Chapter 39

One For All appears mere moments after he sounds the alarm, as Izuku rummages through Toga's pockets. The spirit is all in a panic when he flickers into view, only to stop short when he sees Toga unconscious by the wall, and the button in Izuku's hand.

What did you do?

The heroes are coming and so are some of my friends maybe, Izuku answers. He's found what he was looking for among Toga's miniature arsenal of knives: two thin blades, more for piercing than slicing. He shoves both into his pockets and drags his chair back to its original spot. Is your brother coming?

Obviously my brother is coming! What on earth possessed you—

I'm a distraction, Izuku says. If they focus on me instead of going immediately after him, then maybe he has time to find our rescuers. I need your help. A dark warp gate opens within the room.

With what? One For All asks, with an expression that looks as if he dreads the answer.

The villains are coming back through. A second warp gate opens, and the masked, suited figure of All For One begins to emerge. Izuku slumps in his seat, dragging his wounded shoulder and breathing harshly as he signs his answer.

Help me lie.

Earlier

For the sake of preserving Yaoyorozu's quirk, they throw together disguises at a Kamino thrift shop. Shouto finds a neat dress shirt and waistcoat among the racks, and a black wig to hide his hair. Uraraka's hair is tucked beneath a cap, her jacket heavy and loose-fitting enough to make her look androgynous. Even her face looks different, though she'd been that way already when they met at the train station.

("That'll be the contouring," she'd said, when Kirishima asked her how she'd managed to change the positioning of her cheekbones.

"Contouring?"

"Makeup," Yaoyorozu had explained.

"Makeup's for when you want to look pretty," Uraraka had said. "Contouring's for when you want to commit a murder and throw off the police sketches.")

They're still following the marker Yaoyorozu left on the tracking device's original location. There was some debate back and forth; Yaoyorozu was all for heading to the new location first, but after Iida and Uraraka returned from visiting Midoriya's mother, they ended up siding with him and Kirishima. They would check Kamino first, and if nothing was there, then they would head for the other.

Or go straight home, if Iida has his way.

The UA press conference is being broadcast in the streets, not far from their destination. The sight of his teachers groveling before the press sets Shouto's teeth on edge, though not as much as some of the questions from the reporters in the crowd.

"Seriously?" Uraraka hisses. "Are they really trying to make Deku look like the bad guy for taking down a villain?"

"What villain did he supposedly 'brutalize'?" Iida demands, looking equally incensed. "Do they not realize it was life and death?"

A memory clicks, in the back of Shouto's head. "He had blood on his hands, when we met up," he says. "He wouldn't say what happened, just that it wasn't his."

Kirishima's teeth grind audibly. "They're makin' our classmates sound like—like violent thugs. I know Bakugou's rough around the edges and Midoriya doesn't play nice in a fight, but that's just—" His voice trails off, as if he doesn't have the words for his anger.

"Focus," Yaoyorozu reminds them. "That's not our concern for now. We know it isn't true. In fact, that journalist probably knows it, too. He's just trying to get a rise out of them." She tugs on Uraraka, stepping away from the crowd gathered before the screen. "Come on. Something tells me the heroes will be making a move soon."

"Why do you say that?" Kirishima asks, as the rest of them follow.

"The way they were answering questions about the investigation," she replies. They break away from the crowd and hurry into the quieter streets toward their destination. "Principal Nedzu made it sound as if they don't know where to look. If it were me…" Her eyes narrow. "I'd strike soon after a statement like that. If the villains see that broadcast and think they're still eluding the heroes and the police, their guard will be down."

A hush settles over the rest. They keep close together, watching their surroundings. In the dimly lit streets, the shape of a warehouse facility looms before them.

The alarm chimes softly, and he heaves a deep, deep sigh.

Unwieldy the quirk Search may be, but it is nonetheless useful for his purposes. It is far easier to pinpoint locations that he cannot see—such as no less than eighty Noumu, prepped and ready for instantaneous transport.

The alarm comes when he is focused on those eighty Noumu, forcing his mental gaze back to the room where the prisoners are kept.

The corners of his mouth turn downward. Toga is unconscious. Midoriya Izuku is injured. And Bakugou Katsuki is fleeing.

He considers bringing the errant prisoner immediately to his side, but… no need, just yet. Bakugou seems to be headed in the wrong direction, deeper into the building rather than toward the exits. If he's going to bring the boy back, he may as well bring him back to the room he's supposed to be in.

He is forced, then, to turn his attention further from the Noumu and toward the rest of his assets. The alarm has brought back two of their number: Compress and Magne, whose quirks are most useful for recapturing prisoners. Stretching his own power to the limit, he reaches for Kurogiri's quirk and gives it a light tug.

Beside him, he can feel the doctor's gaze. "I can continue things from here," the doctor says. "I still have to finish compiling all our electronic files."

"Of course," he says. "I may send you amendments to some of your instructions. Nothing major, don't worry." A warp gate opens, and he steps back into the prisoners' holding area.

He observes the scene, as best he can without eyes. Toga is by the far wall, limp and silent. He can't tell what her injuries are—the unconsciousness smothers the rest of her physical weaknesses. Magne crouches beside her, while Compress stands over their remaining prisoner. And as for the boy…

He sees nothing, but hears much. Breath hisses in and out between clenched teeth. His left shoulder is further wounded—already weak from recent dislocation, and now burned as well. It is probably causing him no small amount of pain.

His breathing shakes as well as hisses. It sounds wet. It sounds broken.

"How is she?" he asks. "Not dead, I hope."

"She's hurt—bad," Magne answers. She sounds almost shaken. "Her face—it's not pretty. Some pretty extensive burns, and—hell, are those teeth marks?"

"Are they?" Compress asks. "If they are, it's probably worth mentioning the blood around the kid's mouth."

…Ah.

He turns to the boy, and steps closer.

An awful choking noise reaches his ears. It's like a broken parody of laughter, forced out through uncontrollable tears. It's an ugly sound. An angry sound.

That's all very interesting, especially the anger. He can work with anger. It tends to make people just a bit more malleable.

"I'm sure," he says evenly, "that there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Would you care to offer it up, boy?"

He checks on Bakugou Katsuki. He's still quite a ways from the exits.

For a moment the boy only chokes out another hoarse, bitter noise. Then—"I tried," he rasps. "Tried to escape. One more time." He spits out something—though he doesn't spit it at anyone in particular. There must be blood in his mouth. "He said we could get out. He—I thought I could help him. I thought—if we—" There's no more laughter. He hears the boy's breath hitch and shudder on the way in, and then he sobs in earnest, quietly.

He's learned something interesting about people, and crying, over the years. People cry loudly when they call for help. They cry quietly when they know that no help is coming.

He lifts the boy's chin again.

"Tell me what happened."

The boy is shaking. "We were going to try. One more time. I—I helped him. I held her back so he could escape and—and he—I thought he'd get me out but he—he just—" His breath comes out in shorter gasps. He's choking on sobs, on fear, on rage. The anger in the boy's voice is so palpable that he can almost taste it, like blood in the water.

"He left you," he says softly.

"He—" The boy chokes on his own furious tears again. "He said—"

"What did he say, Izuku?"

The boy ducks his head, and this time he lets him. "He called me a traitor," he whispers harshly. "I tried to tell him he was wrong, and he didn't listen. He didn't even let me talk. A-and then, he said—he said I could either slow him down, or I could slow you down."

He hears Magne hiss through her teeth, imagines the pity and disgust on her face. He sighs then, and it sounds just enough like compassion that it hides the satisfaction and amusement. It's extraordinary, really. His enemies and their ilk do half his work for him.

"You were right," Izuku sobs, angry and helpless and brought low by betrayal. "You were right. He just—he'll tell everyone I turned, and—and even if I prove them wrong, I know they'll never trust me again, I know they'll just—they'll wonder, and…"

"I said before that you were the sort of person who saves his loyalty for those who earn it," he says, covering one of the boy's hands with his own. "If they take the word of a bully over yours, without questioning it—if they turn against you on hearsay alone, then have they earned it?"

"N… no…" the boy says hesitantly.

"No," he says. "They have not. And… for all that you wounded one of my subordinates, I must admit that it must have taken bravery, and no small amount of cleverness. You only made one mistake. One honest mistake of trusting the wrong person, and that… I cannot punish that."

He reaches out, and undoes the remaining cuff. He hears the surprised little hitch in the boy's breath. "You could have escaped yourself," he says. "You could have broken free and run. But instead, you called for us. You called for help, of your own accord, even though you knew I might be angry. Even though you knew you had made a mistake. So now… stand up, boy, and fix it."

"Y-you mean…"

"Find him, and teach him what happens to those who abandon their allies in times of need. You have learned many harsh lessons in your time with us. It's your turn now—teach him a lesson in humility."

He hears the breathing quicken, notes the quiet excitement hidden within such a tiny little sound. "A-are you sure? Even after… after everything…?"

"Show your mettle, Midoriya Izuku. The rest of us have a busy evening ahead of us." He pauses. "I won't give you any hints, mind you. Consider it an assessment of your skills. A new starting line."

In the moments that follow, the world seems to hold its breath.

"Okay." It comes out quiet, but firm. The hand beneath his slowly curls into a fist. "Okay. I'll try your way, All For One."

He smiles, and tries to imagine what All-Might's face will look like, when he sees his precious successor dancing in the palm of his hand. "My dear boy," he says kindly. "If you like, you may call me Sensei."

Shigaraki glances up as Magne and Compress step back through. "Any trouble?"

Compress shrugs. "It's handled, for the most part. Didn't even have to use my quirk for once." He sighs. "Toga's out of commission for a while, however. She's… well, you'll see later. She's been transferred to a different location for now. Just in case things go south here."

"There's some good news, though," Magne adds with a triumphant smile. "Midoriya Izuku's one of us now."

"Really?" Spinner taps his chin thoughtfully. "Would've thought we'd end up fighting him at some point. He really seems like the hero type. Stain even said—"

Behind the obscuring hand, Shigaraki's face lights up. "Ah, what the hell does Stain know? I told you all he'd come around. It was just a matter of time."

He turns his head, then, and looks to the clone cuffed to a chair near the bar. It's been sitting quietly ever since they arrived, for a good reason seeing as how they gagged him. "Hey, Twice."

"Yeah, what?"

"Your copies mimic the personality of the original, right?" Shigaraki wanders over to kick the chair lightly. The copy fidgets, but doesn't respond otherwise.

"Yeah! It's sorta like an AI based on the original's brain."

"You made this one hours ago," Shigaraki says. "Think it's gotten the memo that it's supposed to be on our side?"

"How the hell should I know?" Twice snaps, mood flipping on a dime. "Not like it matters. These things are fragile. Too much damage and they fall apart anyway."

"We should probably move it away from the entrance, then," Dabi remarks. "We wouldn't want to give the game away too quickly."

Magne's hand is on the back of the chair, ready to yank it and their decoy prisoner behind the bar, when the door—and the wall surrounding it—erupts inward. The villains nearest to it are sent tumbling back with the force of the explosion.

"Apologies," All-Might says, smile stretched into an angry grimace. "But I've been told it's polite to knock first."

"I cannot believe that worked," Arai says, for at least the fifth time.

"Two reasons why it did," Izuku says under his breath. "One, I had his brother coaching me."

"Yeah, that probably helped some," Arai says dryly.

One For All is no longer with him; he's sticking close to All For One's side, ready to send word through the other dead if anything changes. The halls are crowded; Izuku has to weave between them as he hurries through. It won't take long for a message to reach him, if need be.

He's clear for now, armed with two stolen knives and a pair of cuffs he took from his own chair.

"The other reason's his new quirk," Izuku goes on. "He steals them, but he can't be an instant expert, and Ragdoll—" His voice catches. It still hurts to think about her. "She told me about her quirk. It's tricky, having so much information pour into your head at once. Either he'll be overwhelmed by it and miss what's right in front of his nose, or he'll force himself to focus on a few things and miss a lot of the rest." A grim smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. "He's like how I used to be—either he has it all the way on or all the way off. No in-between."

"Nice," Arai says appreciatively. "So, what're you doing now? Escaping?"

"Too risky. I can't tell if he's paying attention to me or not, so it's better if I stay in the building. Besides, there are—"

He stops then, because there are arms latching onto him, dragging back and forcing him to halt. He knows who it is before he even turns, because it's far from the first time she's ever done this.

Rei hugs his arm, peeking out from beneath her hair with a single wide, jet-black eye.

"Hi, Rei," he says, and manages a strained smile at her. "Things are pretty tense right now, huh."

She pulls at him, trying to drag him in the opposite direction he's headed.

"Rei—"

Not that way, she says. Out is the other way.

"I know," he says. "But I can't go out yet. There's something I have to do first, and I don't know if—"

In the distance, something explodes. The lights flicker as Izuku whips around, every nerve on edge.

"Half-pint, where do you think you're going?" Izuku sighs heavily as Nana appears in the hallway, then blinks closer until she reaches his side. "Good, she found you. C'mon, kid, the heroes are here and if there was ever a time to get moving, it's now."

"The heroes?"

"Some of them, at least," she says. "What you just heard is Mount Lady smashing through the gate. You can go now."

"I can't yet," Izuku says, forcing down his frustration. "I—there's something I need to look for. I-I need to see, it's… I can't leave without seeing for myself."

Nana sighs, frustrated. "No. Absolutely not. For once in your life, Izuku, you need to turn around and run away, got it? Whatever this is, it's not worth your—" She stops short, eyes narrowing. "Where's everyone going?"

The ghosts are filtering out of the hallway—even Arai is gone, without even a word. There's a tension in the air that Izuku wouldn't have detected over his own.

Rei hisses.

Izuku's first, terrifying thought is that All For One is coming to check on his progress. But if that were the case, then One For All would have warned him. There's no time for him to form a second thought, because his answer comes as if summoned.

Tsubasa stands at the end of the hallway, all dead eyes and mangled wings. As Izuku watches, more figures join him. They vary wildly in age, gender, body type, but they all have one thing in common: black eyes, empty voids that seem to draw in the light around them.

"Deku?" Tsubasa calls.

Rei drags at his arm, her grip icy and painful.

"Something's wrong, Ms. Nana," Izuku whispers. "I just—I just have to see. I'll be right back. Keep an eye on All-Might for me, okay?"

"Izuku—"

Heedless of Nana and Rei's protests, Izuku pushes on. He knows these hallways by now.

The small anteroom is very crowded now, with more spirits pressed in than should reasonably fit. It brings uncomfortably familiar feelings into the pit of Izuku's stomach, but he forces them down and steps up to the locked door. He draws his stolen knives from their hiding place.

With a swipe, Rei knocks them out of his hands and pushes him back.

"Rei!" he splutters.

Go back, she says. Go back. Don't go through. Get out, get out, get out.

"Rei, will you just let me—"

It's a bad place! Her arms move in forceful jerks. Her form flickers and blinks until it hurts just to keep looking at her. It's bad! Get out! Don't go in!

"Deku," Tsubasa pleads. "Deku. Help me."

Shut up! Rei hisses, lunging at him until Tsubasa flickers back. Shut up! Shut up! Leave him alone!

Izuku holds his breath and forces past, retrieving his dropped knives. The lock is not a complicated one; at this point, this deep into All For One's stronghold, security is not the largest priority. It comes undone, and Izuku pockets the knives again, just in case.

He opens the door, and Rei shrieks.

"Just a hallway," he murmurs, though he's less and less sure of that the further he goes. "Just another hallway. I'll just take a quick look, Rei, that's all—"

Rei clings to him. She's trembling, gripping him hard enough to be painful. She's staring ahead, into the dimly-lit hallway beyond the open door.

"Rei, what's wrong?" he murmurs, his voice thin in the quiet. "Do you—?"

She flies.

Not back—not away from the hallway. When she flits away from his side, she goes further in, until he barely catches her swirl of dark hair as it vanishes around the first corner.

"What—Rei?"

Time is of the essence. Ahead of him is Rei, his oldest and best friend, and some unknown horror that frightens even her. Behind him are Tsubasa, someone he knew even before he met her, and a crowd of silent, black-eyed ghosts.

Something tugs at the back of his mind—that that's important somehow, the black eyes—but he's far too focused on the choice before him. And really, it isn't much of a choice at all.

When Izuku takes off running, it's forward.

The alley behind the warehouse is cramped, but at least it's out of the way. It's out of sight.

"See anything?" Uraraka asks.

She has Iida by the ankles, holding on to him like a helium balloon while he floats level with the high window. Shouto stands on Kirishima's shoulders, gripping the window ledge to pull himself up and see.

It takes a moment to make sense of what he's looking at.

It's a vast warehouse space, all wide walls and high ceilings, metal catwalks and at least one mezzanine overlooking the machinery that fills the space. It's almost factory-like in its setup, except instead of objects being manufactured, it's…

Beside him, Iida draws in a sharp breath. Shouto feels his stomach twist in horror and disgust, and climbs down from Kirishima's shoulders. He's seen enough. He doesn't need to see any more.

"Well," he says, fighting down the bile crawling up his throat. "Now we know why the Noumu's tracker came here first."

"Why?" Yaoyorozu asks. "What did you see?"

"This isn't their headquarters," Shouto grits out through clenched teeth. "I doubt it's even where they're holding them—it's a facility for making those things."

Uraraka gasps sharply. "Iida?" she calls up. "Iida, I'm gonna bring you back down, okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Uraraka. I think I've seen enough."

A crash and explosion peals out from near the front entrance they had passed before.

"That'll be the heroes," Yaoyorozu grits out. "We're too closed in here—we need to move positions."

"Back around to the side, then," Iida says, as Uraraka pulls him back to the ground and releases her quirk. "Come along, hurry."

They make their way slowly around the side of the facility, until they're just within view of the front entrance. It's been blown inward; the main doors and most of the wall are smashed in, surrounded by what looks like the remains of a truck. Shouto only hopes there was no one in the cab when it hit.

"They got in," Yaoyorozu murmurs. "The heroes are inside, and so is Midoriya. Bakugou too, most likely." She turns to the others, eyes bright with the first sparks of hope. "I think—I think it might be okay. I think they have this."

Shouto cocks his head, trying to listen. They've moved away from the side of the building, behind a free-standing stone wall toward the front. But he can still hear their voices, calling to each other from within the building.

"Jeanist!" This voice he recognizes. That's Tiger. "Jeanist, Mount Lady, I've found her!""

"Ragdoll?" Mount Lady's voice is much easier to hear. "Is she alive?"

"She's unconscious. But she has a pulse, thank heaven."

"This place is more complicated than we first thought," another voice says. Shouto doesn't recognize it, but it could be Best Jeanist. "Searching every room and hallway could take more time than expected."

It sounds, at least to Shouto's ears, like an opportunity to slip in and do some searching on their own. A hand descends on his shoulder—it's Iida, keeping him from making a premature move. Shouto turns to glare at him, ready to fire back at the wordless warning.

"Uh, guys?" Kirishima says quietly. "One of the side doors just opened."

Shouto turns his head, alarmed. Sure enough, a small doorway on the side of the building—one they just passed minutes ago— is swinging open silently. Someone emerges, and his heart seizes. Are they far enough away?

Uraraka gasps. Shouto gapes.

Bakugou comes creeping out of the building, sidling along the outer wall as he checks his peripherals. For a moment, Shouto is too shocked to react.

Luckily, Kirishima isn't. In an instant he's yanking off the false horns and poking his head out from cover. "Bakugou!" he hisses, waving to him. "Bakugou, over here!"

Their classmate is among them in seconds, diving behind their cover and whisper-shouting with muffled fury. "What the fuck are you idiots doing here?"

"We're here for you and Deku, obviously!" Uraraka whisper-shouts back. "Where is he?"

"Are you okay?" Kirishima asks. "You're bleeding!"

Sure enough, there's a gash over his collarbone, but it doesn't look too serious. Scowling, Bakugou tugs his bloodstained shirt to cover it.

"It's fucking nothing, shut up," he growls. "Deku's still in there. He pulled off some half-cocked plan to buy time while I got out."

"And you left him?" Shouto asks.

"I wasn't my goddamn idea!" he grits out at him. "What the fuck do you idiots think you can do here?"

"The heroes are launching a raid to rescue you and Midoriya," Yaoyorozu tells him. "Best Jeanist, Tiger, and Mount Lady are in there now."

Bakugou's eyes widen. "Fuck—is that all? The way Deku was talking, they're probably gonna need more than that."

Shouto's blood runs cold. That's the closest he's ever seen Bakugou to being rattled.

"Why do you say that?" Iida asks.

"Look, they have this bastard shadow leader, all right? Called 'All For One' or some shit. Deku says he steals quirks."

"That's impossible." Yaoyorozu sounds shaken. "There's—there's never been any quirk like that except in stories—"

The air changes.

Shouto can't explain it. He knows what a change in temperature feels like, and this isn't it. But just for a moment, he swears he can feel a chill in the air that isn't his. He looks to the others, and sees his own confusion and alarm reflected in their eyes.

"Got a bad feeling," Kirishima says tightly. "Anybody else feeling it?"

"No shit," Bakugou mutters.

"I can't tell if this is intuition," Yaoyorozu says. "Or the effects of a quirk."

"We shouldn't be here," Iida murmurs. "We should—" Uraraka claps her hand over his mouth.

Footsteps.

Logically, footsteps shouldn't be loud enough for them to hear an individual set, all the way out here. And yet, they reach Shouto's ears, slow and purposeful, before a voice rings out like a tolling funeral bell.

"Welcome, heroes."

They're too close, far too close, but Shouto turns and looks anyway. The angle is bad, but they can see the blown-open front, and the raiding party of heroes gathered inside. And beyond them…

A lone figure stands there, just out of reach of where light would touch. Shouto can barely see him, but he can just make out a dark, crisply-fitted suit, and a heavy, jet-black metal mask fitted over his head.

"Who is that?" he hears Uraraka whisper.

"One villain against multiple heroes?" Kirishima murmurs. "Seems pretty one-sided to me."

As the five of them watch, the lone villain moves to strike.

And the battle is indeed one-sided, but in entirely the wrong direction.

For a few good moments, Izuku can only stand and stare.

There are so few ghosts here. None, actually—the only ones who linger are the strange, silent black-eyed ones he now knows to be former Noumu.

Which sort of makes sense, now that he thinks of it. The only living people in here are Noumu, as well.

That's what freezes him first: the presence of countless Noumu, all clustered into a single space. The panic subsides when he sees that they're enclosed in glass pods, hooked up to wires and tubes, and unresponsive. They're packed into the vast space, like sardines in a can: dozens of the creatures that Izuku has never seen fall to anything less than a top-ranked hero.

As he watches, blackness swirls around the nearest one. And then the next, and the next. It spreads over every Noumu he can see, and Izuku recognizes it. It's the same tar-like blackness that has been used to transport him back and forth over the past few days.

It spreads, overtaking each artificial human weapon. In a matter of seconds, the Noumu vanish.

They give the villains no time to react. Edgeshot moves swiftly, disabling the warp gate villain before he can give them an escape route. The rest of the frontline heroes move in to take down the rest.

All-Might only has eyes for the boy sitting cuffed to a chair toward the back of the room. Green eyes stare back at him over the gag, and his student strains against the bonds.

The villain known as Dabi gets a drop on them, sending out a wall of fire to drive them back. In such an enclosed space, All-Might cannot risk dispelling it with wind pressure. Even a millimeter off, and he could send the entire building up in flames with them inside of it.

And at the moment, he isn't sure that he can trust his precision.

But every quirk has limits, and even Dabi is aware of the risks. When the flames subside, Gran Torino is upon him, knocking him to the ground before he can try it again. The villains put up a fight, but they've been taken off guard. The battle will not last long; it's only a matter of time before every one of them is subdued.

Only—

All-Might halts, scanning the room. He can see Izuku on the other side of the villains, seconds away from rescue. Where is Bakugou? Is he being kept in a back room? It would certainly make sense, given his penchant for explosive noise—

A familiar burst of raw power rattles the entire room, and an explosion of wind pressure ripples out into the midst of the battle. All-Might lunges forward, scattering struggling villains before him in a determined effort to reach his student.

Izuku is on his feet, having blasted his own hands free with a burst of One For All at 100%—Recovery Girl won't be happy with that—

The boy rips the gag out of his mouth and pitches his voice above everyone else.

"It's a trap!"

All-Might reaches him, blood running cold. "Izuku—"

Izuku thrusts one of his broken hands out at him, except—it's not broken. It's melting, like candle wax in a furnace.

Green eyes meet his, furious and frantic. "I'm not real!" Izuku yells. "I'm just a copy made by Twice's quirk! Bakugou and I are at the warehouse in Kamino! Hurry!"

His entire form dissolves into nothing.

"Damn."

All-Might whips around, fury mounting, to find the villains subdued and forced to the floor. Kurogiri is unconscious, making their escape impossible, but Shigaraki Tomura is still grinning. "Guess it didn't get the memo after all." Blackness begins to gather around the downed villains, creeping over them like living sludge. Shigaraki's smile widens. "Have fun."

The villains disappear into the blackness, just seconds before shouts of alarm reach their ears. All-Might exchanges a single glance with Gran Torino, then rushes back outside.

The police is out in force around the building, along with more heroes headed by Endeavor. Minutes ago, All-Might left them standing at the ready, in case backup was needed.

They're surrounded now. The entire area is swarming with Noumu.

He reaches Endeavor first, right as the Flame Hero finishes dispatching an artificial human that lunged too close. "Clones," he says, fighting against his own rage. "They used clones to draw us here. The captive students are at the other facility."

"Typical," Endeavor spits, face twisted into a mask of disgust. "Get out of the way, then. I'll clean up this mess."

All-Might needs no second urging. With a leap and a bound, he's hurrying toward the other strike location with all the speed that he can muster.

Izuku staggers through the empty warehouse on unsteady, stumbling legs. "R-Rei?" he calls. "Rei, where are you?"

He looks back. The only ghosts still with him are Tsubasa and the rest. They're following him now, watching him as if waiting. For what, Izuku doesn't know.

"I-I don't understand," he says softly. "Is this—was that it? Was that what you wanted me to see?"

They continue to watch him. Tsubasa drifts closer, in and out of Izuku's vision. He brushes an empty pod with pale fingertips.

"Tsubasa-kun," he says. "What is it? What do you want from me?"

Tsubasa looks up at him. "Jii-chan."

Izuku jumps. "What—your grandfather? Do you want me to tell your grandfather something?" Cold dread fills him. "Do you want me to tell him what happened to you?"

"Jii-chan." Tsubasa watches him sadly, black ooze trickling down his face.

A shriek rings out nearby—that's Rei's voice. Izuku takes off running through the space, weaving through empty pods until he finds the doorway it's coming from.

From there, it's easy to find her. He can feel her fear in the air, sharp and cold as an oncoming blizzard. Izuku runs through the empty halls, ever mindful of the entourage following him.

He catches glimpses of her ahead of him, as hazy as a hallucination, a trick of the light. Izuku can only follow, calling after her futilely as she darts ever out of his reach.

Finally, she vanishes through a closed door. Izuku tries the handle, finds it unlocked, and follows her inside.

It's cluttered. Desks, drawers, and filing cabinets line the walls or stand in rows throughout the room, leaving only narrow paths between them. Metal rattles from within, startling him, but as he ventures further inside, he finally sees Rei.

He's never seen her like this.

Usually when she's upset enough, she becomes a singular black hole, a point of darkness in the midst of the rest of the world, swallowing light and exuding fear like a tangible substance. But now?

She looks scared. Izuku has never, ever seen her look so scared.

She's clawing at one of the metal filing cabinets, but she can't open it. All she can do is shake it a little.

"Rei," he whispers. "Rei, it's all right, I've got it, just hang on—"

She whips around to look at him, black eyes blown wide with desperate terror.

Black eyes.

Izuku looks over his shoulder, at the silent retinue still following him.

He wonders how he never made the connection. Maybe he just didn't want to. Maybe he was too afraid of what it might mean.

When he opens the drawer, his hands are shaking. It sticks when he tries; the filing cabinet is more rust than metal, and it looks like it's been years since anyone tried opening one of these. Rei is at his elbow, pawing through the folders within. Her fingertips nearly catch on one, nearly inch it out, but they phase through before she can get a grip on it. Izuku grasps it himself, and pulls it free.

Dust makes him cough as he looks at the folder, searching for any clue as to what it means. It's yellow with age, creased in places it shouldn't be, and marked with water stains. Izuku looks to Rei for help, and finds her curled up in a pale, black-haired, quaking ball on the floor. All Izuku can hear from her is the soft, grating, persistent sound of static.

"R-Rei?" No answer. "Rei, you're scaring me." Still nothing.

He opens the folder, and nearly drops it.

There isn't much to it, only a few sheets of printed paper, some of the text blacked out. A rusted paperclip holds it all together, along with a tiny ziploc bag containing a lock of black hair, and a wallet-sized photograph.

A pale, round face gazes out at him from the picture, framed in long black hair. The eyes are wide and yellow, not black, but that doesn't matter. Izuku knows that face.

The next thing he knows, he's kneeling on the ground, hands shaking as he fumbles the clip off. Rust stains his fingers, and he tosses it to the floor and gathers up the photograph and the hair sample and the few pages.

He looks at the first one.

Subject 777: Examination Report #1

Name: Morigawa Hitomi

DOB: 2XXX-01-31

Sex: F

Age: 9

Blood Type: O

Quirk: Empathy

Height: 129 cm

Weight: 22 kg

Subject Notes

Beneath that, Izuku skims. They're research notes dating back decades, detailing experiments that he can only barely understand. He catches snatches of things, phrases like drug trials and quirk introduction and response to pain stimulus and unforeseen side effects. When he reaches the bottom of the page he snatches up the next one, and the next, and the next. There are only four pages in all, and they're all the same.

Test results, the fourth page reads, about halfway down.

3 Emitter-type, non-physical quirks introduced. Reasonable success.

Psychological conditioning: 78%. Reasonable success.

Physical enhancement: 7%. Failure.

Brain function: Low

NO LONGER VIABLE SUBJECT FOR PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTS

Final notes:

Subject 777 is now deceased, though not due to further experimentation. Experiment 4E proved too much for 777's higher brain functions, resulting in a vegetative state. While this disqualified 777 for further psychological testing, there were still any number of chemical and physical tests I could have run. I tried to tell AFO this, but my attempts to convince him were fruitless, as usual. This morning he visited the lab to receive a verbal report, which I gave. I informed him that there was still a plethora of knowledge to be gained from this subject before termination, but he pointed out that fresh subjects would bring us far better information, especially since he has no plans to use brain-dead subjects when he moves Project Noumu out of the experimentation stage. I pointed out that 777 could still prove useful as a control group, but did he listen? Of course not.

He grows impatient with the pace of our experiments; terminating this latest subject against my advice is only proof of this. Progress does not happen overnight, but I suppose even an immortal man may feel the press of time.

Subject 777's remains have been properly disposed of. A hair sample will be kept for records purposes.

----

END OF REPORT

By the time he reaches the bottom, Izuku can no longer see the page. The words and letters blur together, and the way the yellowed paper shakes in his hands does not help.

He turns his head.

He can't see Rei's face. She's curled up into a ball, her back against one of the filing cabinets, hidden in heavy dark hair as she rocks back and forth. Crackling white noise fills the space. She's a black hole yet again, swallowing up everything in the room until nothing exists except her and Izuku and the black-eyed ghosts beyond them.

The floor beneath him is hard and cold as he crawls to her side. He reaches for her, knees aching. "Rei?"

There's a hitch in the static, before it fades away.

He tries again.

"H-Hitomi?"

This time, she flinches.

"That's your name," Izuku says softly. "Your real name, isn't it? Morigawa Hitomi?"

There's nothing, and then—

"No."

Izuku's blood turns to ice water in his veins. He doesn't know that voice. In ten long years, he's never heard that voice.

"I-It is," he says. His throat aches. It's hard to speak. "That's your name, Rei. That's your face. You were… you were here."

"No." Her hair ripples as if disturbed by wind. She curls up tighter, trembling as she rocks and shakes her head. "No. No no no no. I don't—I don't want it."

"Don't want what?" Izuku reaches out, tries to brush the curtain of her hair aside so that he can see her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut as they leak black ooze.

"It hurts." She rocks forward, and she reaches for his hand, grips it with icy fingers. Izuku pulls her closer, but it's slow progress. "I don't want it, I don't want it—take it back—" The cabinets rattle, and she presses forward, presses into him until her grip is painful and she's crying out in his arms. "It hurts! I don't want it! I don't want to remember!"

"Okay," he chokes out. "Okay, Rei. Okay. You don't have to. We're getting out, okay? We're getting out. I'm getting you out. Let's go. Let's leave, and we'll never come back."

"Get out," she screams into his chest. "Get out, get out, get out."

He gathers up the pages, folds up the photograph and the hair sample inside them, and stuffs them into his pocket, and then he runs out of the records room and shuts it behind him. He reaches out blindly, grasping until he takes Rei's hand, and hurries down the hallway. The lights are even worse off then before; most of them have gone out entirely, and only a few still flicker stubbornly.

"Jii-chan," he hears Tsubasa whisper, but he's past listening. He has to get out, he has to go home—he's done, he's finished here, he's survived and he's hopefully bought Bakugou some time to reach the heroes outside, and he wants to find them too and go home. He wants—

"Jii-chan!"

Rei's hand squeezes hard enough to crush his fingers. Izuku stumbles, comes back into himself, and finally registers the sound of footsteps steadily moving closer. He freezes, schools his face back to blankness, and prepares himself for one of the villains—except who would it be? The others are all supposed to be away, unless they've been brought back, but…

Before he can finish the thought, a lone figure rounds the corner and into the dimly lit hallway. Izuku stops short, heart pounding.

The other man stops as well, catching sight of him immediately. He draws back, seemingly startled, before his tense shoulders relax, and his face lights up in recognition.

It's a familiar face, Izuku realizes. He hasn't seen it in years, but it's hard to forget anything from the day he first realized what his quirk was.

"Jii-chan," Tsubasa rasps.

Before him, his old pediatrician adjusts his spectacles and steps forward to take a closer look. "My word," says Dr. Tsubasa. "Little Midoriya Izuku. It's been years, hasn't it."

If ever a quirk could babble, then that is what Search is doing to him now—or at the very least, it's trying. For the moment he has it quieted, feeling the little nudges of information at a distance, to be examined at his own leisure. For example—

All-Might. Even in a simple quirk like Search, he shines like a beacon, growing ever nearer. The heroes before him will not last long—Best Jeanist is will bleed out soon, and there is little that Mount Lady or Tiger or any of the other responding heroes can do against him, especially with the rest of his henchmen present, most of them even fighting fit.

But All-Might is coming. And that means that their little game is drawing to a close.

He checks on his other assets within the facility. Bakugou Katsuki has finally found the exit. As for Midoriya…

Ah, good. The good doctor has found him. He'll soon be telling the boy of the next step in tonight's little melodrama. Either he'll send their new asset back out to join the rest of them, or he'll take him along when he makes his own efficient escape. Perfect.

And so, when All-Might lands in his midst, in the throes of what he is sure is a towering rage, he smiles behind the mask. His henchmen wisely keep their distance as they hold off the rest of the heroes. He steps forward.

"It's been so long," he says.

"Where are they?" All-Might's voice is a rumble like distant thunder. He senses a fight ahead, but no more than that. How he's missed that—not knowing whether he might win or lose a battle.

He knows Bakugou Katsuki's location, down to the centimeter. An effort of will brings the boy onto the battleground, staggering and dazed by his quirk. Ah, right—this is the first time he's felt it, isn't it?

"Young Bakugou," All-Might calls to him, with forced calm. The boy's eyes widen at the sight of him, with just a drop of hope and relief. "Are you all right?"

"'M fine," is the short reply.

"It's all right now. This will be over soon." He can see All-Might's eyes moving, searching for the other, but All For One does not bring him forth. No need to reveal that—yet. It's been so long, after all.

He may as well allow himself to enjoy this.

At the front of the old facility, a pair of titans clash.

"Dr. Tsubasa." Izuku's mouth is dry. There are a hundred different thoughts and feelings swirling about in his head, and none of them come out on his face, or in his voice. Rei's grip on his hand is painful. The dead Noumu are moving now. Closer, step by step, to the old man who stands before him.

"Jii-chan."

"I'm—I'm so very sorry, dear boy," Dr. Tsubasa says. He's smiling a little, like he's so very happy to see Izuku after so long. "You must be very confused." He beckons. "Come along with me. All For One told me I ought to find you, if I could."

Izuku doesn't obey immediately. "I'm—I'm supposed to find Bakugou?"

"Don't worry about that, he won't be angry that you couldn't," Dr. Tsubasa assures him. "It was only a test, you know. Now come along—or, would you prefer to join the others outside? I can signal him to fetch you, if you like."

"No, that's okay, he's probably busy, I just…" Izuku stares at him, swallowing against the unease that creeps over him. "I didn't expect to see you here. That's all. I-it's been a while."

The old man smiles fondly. "Yes. It has. I'm very glad you've found your way to us, Izuku. It's good to see you again and this… this is a good place. You've been eating well, I hope? Your mother was always very good about that."

It's surreal, as Izuku follows him down another hallway, and into a larger room. It's much neater than the records room he just left. The far wall is dominated by a desk covered in papers and notes, and one large computer screen showing a loading bar near completion. All the while, his old pediatrician makes small talk. He asks how well Izuku sleeps. About his favorite foods. About schoolwork. Izuku answers as if in a dream. Rei presses close and quakes.

File transfer, 88%, the screen reads. A memory drive protrudes from the side of the computer, its blue light blinking softly.

"It won't be long now," Dr. Tsubasa tells him. "We'll be moving to a new facility tonight, since this one's compromised. We'll have to move quickly, once this transfer is complete. I'll miss this old place, though—it may not look like much, but for the past forty years, it's been ours."

Forty years.

Rei's papers dated back thirty.

"Are there others?" he asks. "Other scientists?"

"There have been, in the past," he sighs. "But for the most part, it's only been me. Not everyone can stomach the work that we do here."

He thinks of Dr. Hamada. "The, um," Izuku says. "The Noumu?"

"Among other things," Dr. Tsubasa replies. "Quirk study, as well. And speaking of which—step closer, would you? I thought I saw something…"

Hesitantly, Izuku does so, though Rei's fingers dig into his wrist until he might scream. Luckily, she's holding his right hand, and not his broken left.

But Dr. Tsubasa simply shines a small flashlight in his eyes, squinting through his spectacles at something only he can see. "Ah. Tapeta lucida. Fascinating."

Izuku blinks the colored spots out of his vision. "Um, what?"

"I only noticed by chance, when I saw you in that darkened hallway," Dr. Tsubasa explains. "Your eyes. They have tapeta lucida—a layer of tissue that serves as a retroreflector. Often found in nocturnal animals, deep sea creatures, and most famously, cats. I imagine you've had trouble taking pictures?"

"Y-yeah," Izuku answers. "My eyes show up red. And I spooked one of my classmates a couple nights ago…"

"Eyeshine," Dr. Tsubasa says with a smile. "It's the main visible effect of the tapetum lucidum."

"But what does it mean?" Izuku wonders how much time he has. He wonders if All-Might has found his way here yet.

"Well, for one, it means you most likely have better night vision than those without it," Dr. Tsubasa says. "Beyond that… who knows? It could be the full extent of your 'invisible quirk,' or it may only be a physical indicator of it." He shakes his head ruefully. "Ahh, I was such a fool, all those years ago. I never checked your eyes, even after your mother said… you saw things, didn't you? Tell me, Midoriya, what did you see?"

Izuku locks eyes briefly with a dead Noumu over the doctor's shoulder, and keeps his voice carefully subdued. "No," he says softly. "No, you were right, that wasn't a quirk after all, I just… imagined things. Pretended I had friends. I was lonely back then."

"Ah, I see…" The old man nods, and seems to accept this. He glances at the loading bar—95%.

"I-I do remember your grandson, though," Izuku continues, and the ghost of Bakugou's old friend flinches. "Tsubasa-kun? We used to play together." He swallows, though his mouth and throat are dry. "How's he doing?"

For a moment, the doctor is silent. "I'm afraid I… haven't had the chance to speak to him recently," he replies.

Tsubasa's black eyes are fixed on Izuku as he answers. "That's all right. I haven't seen him since second grade, so it's probably more recent than me."

Dr. Tsubasa hums thoughtfully. "Well, he went to Jyaku Middle School, and then… oh, it's no use, his high school escapes me. My mind isn't what it used to be." he shakes his head.

"Jii-chan," Tsubasa-kun pleads. "Jii-chan. Don't lie."

Izuku's blood runs cold.

"You talked to me," Tsubasa-kun says, grasping uselessly at his grandfather's arm. "I asked you why. You said you were sorry."

"He lies," a dead Noumu whispers. Scattered, mangled voices take up the low cry.

"Lies."

"He lies."

"Liar."

"Why?"

"Is that… you're being modest, right?" Izuku asks. He feels cold inside. Cold outside, too—that's Rei's hand, still clutched in his. "Those research notes… that's your work, isn't it?"

Dr. Tsubasa looks at him, surprised, and then smiles ruefully. "My memory is going, I'm afraid. It's why my work is so important now. I have to continue it while I still can. Before I'm no use to anyone."

"You'd have been with him, when he first fought All-Might," Izuku says. "You saved his life. All For One, I mean. All-Might told me—he thought All For One was dead. But he survived, thanks to you."

"It was a close thing," Dr. Tsubasa says softly.

"Still," Izuku says. "And… the Noumu? From what I've heard, civilian scientists still can't figure out how they work. There's the extra quirks, but also the physical enhancements. I know now that All For One did the quirks, but the physical stuff… that was you, right?"

Dr. Tsubasa gives a quiet chuckle. "Don't give All For One too much credit, now. I've studied his power—how the quirks are transferred, the effect on the mind and body."

"And you perfected it," Izuku whispers. Rei's file. Subject 777. How many subjects did it take?

The file transfer finishes, and Dr. Tsubasa pulls the memory drive and pockets it, along with several others on the desk. "Years of study," he says. "Of work and research and so, so many sacrifices." He straightens with a smile. "But it's for the best. All For One is far older and wiser than either of us could ever hope to be. I know that he will make sure my work serves the greater good." He pauses, giving Izuku a shrewd look. "This interests you, does it not? The inner workings of quirks?"

"Of course," Izuku answers, honestly enough. They had to move quickly, the doctor had said. But Tsubasa is like him—he likes to talk about his interests. It's easy to distract someone like that. "M-my whole life—I was never sure if I even had a quirk, or if—if I had one, but I just couldn't figure out how to use it."

Dr. Tsubasa looks at him carefully, his mouth turned down in sorrow. "I really did you wrong, all those years ago," he says. "I should have done more to help you, and I apologize. But now… you're one of us, aren't you?"

Izuku heaves a sigh, drawing it out as long as he can. He works his right hand free of Rei's grip, and slips it carefully into his pocket. "I… I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so—there are so many things I didn't know. And so many things I thought I knew that were wrong." He hesitates for a moment. "I'm… I'm so lost. I'm so confused. And I don't want to betray everyone. I don't want to turn my back on my friends. But… but they can't help me. Not really."

"We can," Dr. Tsubasa tells him. Maybe, unlike All For One, he even means it. "I promise you, we can. I can teach you what I know. I won't live forever, but maybe you can carry on my work. I'll do my best to help you." He turns to gather up a few more things.

In his pocket, Izuku's hand closes around the cuffs. "Yeah. I know you will." He moves. It's painfully easy, overpowering an old man, even with one arm useless. One cuff goes around the doctor's wrist, and the other snaps shut around the leg of the desk. It's welded to the floor; he's not getting free anytime soon.

"Izuku—" Dr. Tsubasa splutters, shocked.

"You're going to be very helpful, Dr. Tsubasa." Izuku's voice is cold. Every inch of him is cold, like a brick wall against an oncoming car. He reaches into the doctor's pockets and begins emptying them. The memory drives he stowed away. A remote communicator. Anything that might be used to pick handcuffs. He pockets it all, while the doctor stares at him in open-mouthed shock. When he's finished, he stares right back. He doesn't glare. He doesn't scowl. He just stares, blank and cold, until the color drains from the doctor's face. "You're going to stay here, and be quiet, and when the heroes come for you, you're going to go with them without fighting. You're going to tell them everything you know." He leans in closer. "That's how you're going to help me, Doctor. That's how you're going to pay for what you did to Tsubasa-kun."

The doctor chokes on good air, spluttering, shock and horror creeping over his features. "You don't know what you're talking about—Izuku, please listen—"

"Tell me you didn't," Izuku whispers. He thinks of the last day he saw Tsubasa alive, in a dark alley in Hosu City. He thinks of the records room, crammed wall to wall in experiment reports. "Tell me you didn't turn your grandson into a Noumu. Tell me you didn't murder countless people just to figure out how."

"I-I-I—" The doctor stares at him in shock. "I didn't murder them. Midoriya, I didn't—I held no ill will to them. I did nothing in malice. I was under orders. You don't understand his vision, my dear boy, and—" His eyes widen behind his glasses, knocked askew in the brief struggle. "Listen, you have to let me go. You don't understand—"

"You're right," Izuku says, standing up. "I don't understand. I will never understand. And I don't want to."

The door bangs against the wall behind him. Izuku whirls around, heart leaping to his throat—

Nana and One For All stare back, empty eyes wide.

"Please tell me that's one of the bad guys," Nana says. "'Cause half-pint, you gotta get out of here, now."

"What?" Izuku says.

"He's destroying the facility," Dr. Tsubasa says. His voice is high with desperation. "Leaving nothing useful for the authorities to find. Oh, damn it all, I've left it too long—after the file transfer finished we only had so much time. Midoriya, get me free. You have to get me free, Izuku, please—"

He whips around and lunges for the doctor's cuffed wrist, heart in his throat. Cold hands seize him by the arms, and he cries out when it jars his injuries, but to no avail. The ghosts drag him back.

"Wait," he rasps out desperately. Rei has a hold of him. The dead Noumu are grasping at him, as well. "Wait, just let me free him first, let me—"

No time, One For All tells him. I'm sorry. This isn't your fault.

"Wait!" he pleads. "Wait, don't, I don't want to—!"

They drag him bodily out of the room, until the doctor's desperate cries fade into the distance. Izuku fights them all the way, but it's no use. He's weakened and injured, and they are many. They don't need food or rest like he does.

"Run!" Nana shouts near his ear. "Izuku, just run! Follow him, he'll get you out!"

He doesn't recognize the route that One For All takes. All he knows is that it takes them back through the empty warehouse space, back toward the doorway leading to the hallways beyond it—

It's like thunder, first. It begins behind him, and then it envelops him, and the world goes strange and gray.

"This brings back memories," All For One says, and his voice sails out mockingly from beneath that damned metal mask. "Almost. I'm a bit disappointed, old friend. You were so much more fearsome when last we met."

He's been in his hero form for nearly an hour, and his time is running out. All-Might is limited, and the enemy knows it; as long as Bakugou is here, he can't afford to go all out without the boy becoming collateral damage. The other villains are moving to recapture him, and Bakugou evades them—for now.

But he has to end this. He has to bring him down for good this time. He has to rescue young Bakugou and find his remaining student and make sure Endeavor and the others are holding their own against the Noumu.

"You're looking for your boy," All For One calls out. "Correct? You must be worried about him, all alone and afraid." He dodges a strike, and retaliates with one of his own. His arm has grown many times its usual size, misshapen with protruding ridges, like an immense and flexible mace. "Would it comfort you, to know that he is no longer alone nor afraid?"

All-Might hesitates for a split second, and nearly pays for it when he misses death by inches. He shakes his head furiously. All For One does this—messes with his head while they fight. He pushed through before, and he can do it again.

The macelike arm swings at him, and he blocks the strike with one of his own, sending a shock wave rippling out from the point of collision.

"If you were expecting to find him frightened and grateful, you may be disappointed," All For One tells him. "I'm afraid it's a little late for that."

All-Might clenches his teeth. "What are you talking about, you—"

The words are barely out of his mouth when rolling thunder erupts from within the warehouse. All-Might freezes for a split second and takes a blow to the shoulder for it, as the building explodes like a mortar mine. The outer frame of the building caves in and begins to collapse. Fiery explosions spread, sending a wide swath of destruction through the surrounding area. Screams ring out as bystanders become casualties.

He gapes, and the fiery rage in his breast turns to ice in an instant.

Iida, of course, moves the fastest. As soon as the rumble from within reaches their ears, he grabs the others—Uraraka and Todoroki under one arm, Kirishima and Yaoyorozu under the other—and rockets away from the building with an instinctive Recipro Burst. He feels his engines overheat in an instant, but it does the job. In a burst of desperate speed and strength, he drags his friends away from the building and toward the nearest cover. He drags them through a few scrapes and bruises as well, but it's preferable to worse injuries. The explosions deafen them, but do no more than that.

When they subside, the warehouse has nearly collapsed in on itself, and Iida stares at it in horror.

"He… he was in there," he says, stricken. "Bakugou said…"

Beside him, Todoroki and Uraraka share a single look.

"You three stay here," Todoroki says. He's lost the wig, and his hair is a tangled mess. "My phone's on silent, and service is still up, so we can keep in contact."

"We'll be right back," Uraraka adds.

"But—" Yaoyorozu starts, a second too late. The pair of them are off and running already, around the side, skirting the battle as they head straight for the collapsed building.

Kirishima starts to rise, but Iida stops him. Todoroki is well-trained and strong, and Uraraka's quirk is best-suited for the half-cocked plan they've probably thought up. The more of them move, the more likely they'll draw attention to themselves.

"We'll wait," Iida murmurs. "We'll wait and watch, and send word in to them if we need to."

The situation is far out of his control. It has been since the night began. All he can do now is trust in his friends, and hope for the best.

Izuku comes back into himself either seconds or minutes after the explosion hits, and the first thing he hears is crying.

He's never heard Rei cry before. She's made a lot of sounds over the years, but never anything that required a voice.

His entire left arm is a useless mass of pain. His head hurts. His ribs hurt. A lot of different things hurt.

"You have to understand," Dr. Tsubasa says, and Izuku looks up.

The doctor stands over him, hands held out in an almost pleading manner. He doesn't look much different from when Izuku last saw him, except a little paler, and lacking anything in the whites of his eyes.

"It was all in the name of progress," he says. "Besides the change that All For One plans to bring to this world—do you realize the possible applications of this research? The possibility of physical enhancement, a deeper understanding of human psychology? A few dozen sacrifices, a few hundred even—can you honestly tell me that they are not worth the many millions of lives that could be improved with this research?"

"You bastard," he hears Nana hiss.

"You need to leave," Izuku rasps. The doctor's ghost looks at him, startled. "You need to get out."

"You… can see me?"

Izuku opens his mouth to repeat himself, and—

"Jii-chan."

Slowly, the doctor turns around. Izuku looks past him, and sees the dead Noumu gathered just beyond.

They aren't waiting anymore.

"Oh," Dr. Tsubasa says, and Izuku has never heard so much mortal terror fit into such a small sound.

The dead descend upon him, as three figures—Nana, One For All, and Rei, move between them and him, so that he doesn't have to see what they do to him.

He can hear it just fine, though.

Izuku has cried a lot in this place. Most of the time, it was out of necessity, but now…

Now he cries because he can't stop. Even when the screams die down, and Tsubasa-kun and his grandfather and all the dead Noumu are gone, he can't stop. He can't do anything but curl up on the ground and sob until he can barely breathe.

He feels gentle hands on him. He hears Nana's voice, calling to him desperately, but he shakes his head.

He made a promise, once. He swore to himself that he would never, ever make a ghost, and now…

Now he's done that. He's made a ghost out of someone he knew, and it doesn't matter what he did, it doesn't matter why, and it doesn't matter whether it was deserved or not. All that matters is that a man is dead because Izuku was careless, because he was angry and he didn't think, and what sort of hero does that make him?

He's not sure how long he lies there, injured and sobbing and feeling alone even with ghosts at his side like they always have been, ever since he was small. He opens his eyes and finds Nana and One For All gone, and Rei is still there but he feels more alone than he's ever been before.

And then

"Hey."

A foot nudges him. The voice is familiar to him, but his vision is too hazy for him to see the face that goes with it. A nudge comes again, harder this time.

"Hey. Kid. If you're crying, then it means you're not dead, and if you're not dead then you can get up and get out of here."

A choked sob escapes him, and a pale face swims in his vision overhead.

"H-Hino?"

"Surprise," the ghost says dryly, crouching by him. "Your pushy friend Nana found me and sent me on ahead to get you up. Something about me being enough of an asshole to pull it off." He tilts his head to the side. "You gonna prove her wrong, or are we getting out of here?"

"I can't," Izuku chokes out.

"Can't what?"

"I can't do this. Everything—everything I try just fails, and I can't." His voice cracks pathetically, but he's beyond caring.

"I'll ask again, can't what?" Hino retorts. "Can't get up off the ground and walk? No one told me your legs were broken."

"I killed someone."

"I don't see how that constitutes broken legs, kid." Hino reaches out and grabs a handful of the back of his shirt. "C'mon. Get moving before the rest of this damn building falls on you."

And part of Izuku thinks, good, let it, and it must show on his face because Hino spits out a curse and drags him up to his knees.

"I am not playing around," he growls. "Get the hell up, Midoriya, or so help me I will drag you out of here by the hair—"

"What's the point?" Izuku snaps, as anger turns his tears scalding. "Every time I've done anything in this place, I've made everything worse for everyone else! I can't do this! I can't—I just can't."

Hino lets go of the back of his shirt, and grabs the front instead.

"Can't what?" he grits out in Izuku's face. "Can't be a hero? Is that what you're saying? Don't give me that bullshit, Midoriya."

"Why do you even care?" Izuku spits back. "All you care about is playing stupid pranks on Endeavor, so why do you care about what happens to anybody else? Why are you even here?"

"Because I owe you, damn it."

Izuku isn't expecting this. Not the words, nor the fierceness in Hino's voice.

"You want to know how I know it's bullshit?" the ghost asks. "I've already seen you save someone. You saved my sister and you don't even know her damn name, so don't you dare sit there and tell me that you can't!"

Izuku stares at him, confused and vaguely unnerved. "Y-your sister? I don't—who?"

A bitter laugh escapes the ghost, and his grip on Izuku loosens just a fraction. "Fuck," he mutters. "You really had me pegged, you know? When you said I was the kind of person who dyed my hair to piss off my family. Well, you were right, because I hate my fucking family. Except my sister. And you helped her."

"I-I don't—"

Hino's form flickers. His dark hair fades, the color leeching out of it. "I couldn't help her," he says tersely. "I couldn't do anything to help her, alive or dead." The color vanishes, leaving his hair snow-white. "And then you came along. And you gave her son back to her." He gives Izuku a little shake as he lets go. "You did more for her in one afternoon than I ever could in twenty-five years. So don't you dare sit there and tell me you make everything worse."

Izuku gapes at him. "You mean—you're—you're Todoroki's—"

"Yeah," he says dryly. "And speaking of which? He's on his way. As in, he's in here, in this building, looking for you, right now."

The feeling of his heart dropping to his stomach is either relief or dread. Izuku isn't quite sure which. "Where?"

"Get your ass up off the floor and I'll show you." As Izuku staggers to his feet, Hino cracks a sardonic grin at him. "Oh, and before I forget—I saw a face I recognized on the way in. Wanna hear something interesting about Dabi?"

The building around them may as well be made of matchsticks, and it's making Ochako's hands itch. Most of it was brought down by the initial blast, but some sections are still, just barely, standing. Other parts of the building are giving way, and she can hear the buckling architecture both near and far. Every distant rumble makes her jump. The air nearby feels cold; Todoroki has his right hand half-raised and ready.

Deku once said she and Todoroki were well-equipped for rescue work; her quirk is good for finding and freeing trapped victims, and Todoroki's right side is perfect for shoring up damaged structures. She wonders if he ever thought they'd have to put it into practice rescuing him.

Several times they have to change course, either because the way is blocked, or because Ochako recognizes the sound of a structure about to collapse. There's little need to talk; Ochako stays close to the light of Todoroki's fire, and adds the light from her flashlight to it. They tap and point to indicate better routes. They help each other over rubble without any need for a question and answer.

At some point, Ochako realizes she has no real idea how they're supposed to find Deku in all this. As sure as she is that there won't be any villains left in here, she doesn't feel comfortable shouting. How long will it take them to scour this entire ruin? How long do they have before the heroes start moving in, and they get caught?

And if Deku is here, lying injured somewhere, then how long can he afford to wait for them?

Inevitably, they reach a fork in the path. Actually, "fork" is putting it lightly. It's more like a cross section of hallways; various wall sections have fallen down, leading to several possible paths with maybe even more further. It's the kind of place where it'd be easy to forget which way they came.

They stop here, briefly breaking off from each other to inspect each possible path. They all look equally dark and forbidding, to Ochako's eyes.

"How sure are we that there won't be villains left?" Todoroki asks, rejoining her. "I doubt we have a lot of time left, and if we split up to cover more ground…"

"That's a bad idea," Ochako says. She sees him scowl. "Todoroki, no. I know this was sort of my idea, but… we promised Iida, and Momo. We promised we wouldn't take more risks than we could handle. It's bad enough that we came in here at all. Let's not make things any worse."

"We have nothing," Todoroki reminds her. "We have no idea which way to go, and we can't afford to keep wandering around while the building comes down around us."

"Well we can't afford to wander around alone either, Todoroki," Uraraka grits out. "Look, I know you're scared, but we can't just…"

At first, she thinks it's a mirage. She sees it, she's sure she sees it, in the darkness over Todoroki's shoulder, down one of the middle-right paths. She doesn't even mean to point her flashlight that way; it's just how she's holding it, and because of that, she sees the figure dash past, just beyond the reach of the beam.

For a split second, Ochako sees her clear as day, and then she blinks and the darkness is empty.

It wasn't much. Not a villain, or a Noumu, or Deku. As far as Ochako can tell, it was just a little girl—but what would a little girl be doing down here?

"Uraraka?" Todoroki calls to her. He glances over his shoulder, as if following her gaze, but there's nothing to see anymore, if there ever was.

In the back of her mind, Ochako remembers the drawings on the fridge.

She'd only glanced at them briefly, before Iida called her back out, but she still got a good look at the wobbly crayon drawings that Deku must have made when he was little. A dark-haired girl had been in several of them.

Mrs. Midoriya had tried to claim that it was her quirk, to talk to people who couldn't be seen. Ochako had caught the lie.

"That way," she says. She doesn't wait for Todoroki to answer; she just moves. She has to clamber through a hole in the wall, but it's easy enough to clear the rubble and make it to the other side. If she just goes, Todoroki will probably follow.

Ochako looks in the direction that she saw the girl move. She shines her flashlight to the end of the hallway.

It's brief, again. Almost like a reflection, or a trick of the light playing off the shadows. For an instant the beam falls upon the little girl standing at the hallways' end, face hidden in dark hair, watching Ochako before she vanishes again.

Sure enough, Todoroki catches up to her. "Uraraka, I thought you were the one who said—"

"It's this way," she says. "I—I think I heard something. Come on."

"I didn't hear—"

"Just trust me?" She meets his eyes briefly. He sighs, but doesn't argue with her.

They reach the end of the hallway and turn the corner. Ochako sees nothing but a pile of rubble blocking most of the path, but she presses on, clambering over it to the other side. There are no more forks in the road; just one path ahead of them.

And then, just ahead, she hears something for real.

The hallway bends up ahead. Ochako catches just a hint of uneven footsteps, before someone comes stumbling into view.

A head turns toward them. Eyes flash white as they catch the edge of Ochako's flashlight beam.

She freezes where she is, and Todoroki stops short. From the end of the hallway, a noise like a strangled sob reaches them.

Ochako has never been much for running; she's not bad at it, but she's not the best in their class. But now, for once, she matches Todoroki pace for pace as they rush forward.

Deku slams into them with a choked cry of pain. One arm goes around her neck, the other around Todoroki's, and Deku drags them both into a hug. Ochako hugs back, whispering an apology when she squeezes too hard and hurts him. Todoroki's only a beat behind.

"You shouldn't be here," Deku whispers. "It isn't safe. A-All For One—"

"Bakugou told us," Todoroki says. "All-Might's fighting him now. Are you injured?"

"Yeah." Deku pulls back, wincing. Todoroki re-ignites his left hand once he's at a safe distance, and Ochako hisses through her teeth when she gets a good look at Deku's face. "It's mostly my left arm—" He stops, staring at Todoroki's other arm, and the splint on his right hand.

Todoroki moves it behind his back. "It's nothing—"

"I'm sorry." Deku's staring at Todoroki's injured hand with quiet, wide-eyed dismay. "I-Is it broken? I didn't mean to, I swear—I just—I knew they had me and I just wanted you to let go."

Ochako's heart sinks, and she feels Todoroki stiffen beside her. "Oh, Deku."

"It's nothing," Todoroki repeats, and links his right arm around Deku's left. "Now come on—it's time we weren't here."

The building is shifting around them again. Ochako takes hold of Deku's other arm. "C'mon, Deku. Let's get you out of here."

The battle before them seems to last forever. Tenya's heart has been in his throat since the building first went up in fire and thunder, and the few glimpses he catches of the fight only heighten his tension.

All-Might is the most powerful hero; everyone knows that. Tenya has known that since he was a child.

And yet, as he watches his teacher meet the villain called All For One head-on, again and again, he realizes something terrifying.

All-Might is struggling.

It shouldn't be possible.

"It's because of Bakugou." As if reading his mind, Yaoyorozu grips his arm to steady herself as she speaks. "He has to hold back, because Bakugou's in the line of fire."

"Then we have to get him back out," Kirishima murmurs at his other side. "Long as All-Might's in his face, I doubt that guy'll be able to teleport him back."

"There's nothing we can do at the moment," Tenya warns them. "He's surrounded by villains, and there are only three of us."

A moment passes, and Yaoyorozu's grip tightens. "Make that six."

His first thought is that Uraraka and Todoroki are back, but that would only make five, wouldn't it? Unless…

Tenya looks to her, then follows her gaze back over his shoulder. For the first time since this terrible night began, he feels his heart lift.

Supported on both sides, Midoriya looks much the worse for wear. His face is battered, his clothes torn and dirty, and the bruises beneath his eyes have only deepened.

But, he's alive. He's here. He's within reach.

Tenya stretches a hand out toward him. Midoriya meets his eyes, then looks past him. His face goes paler.

"How long?" he rasps. Tenya can barely hear him over the din of battle. "How long has he been fighting?"

Tenya turns back around to see. "It's difficult to say…"

He blinks.

There's steam on the battlefield, surrounding All-Might on all sides. Tenya doesn't know what it means, but it can't be anything good.

"Midoriya!" Kirishima lunges forward, nearly tackling Midoriya in a hug. Both Uraraka and Todoroki gently press him back. "Listen—I hate to ask this. I know you've been through a lot. But…" His eyes are bleak. "You know more than we do. Bakugou's right in the middle of that, and it's keeping All-Might from going all out against the guy in the mask. Is there a way we can get him out?"

Midoriya moves forward. He's limping a little, but he gently sidles away from Iida's silent offer of support, and moves up to their vantage point beside Yaoyorozu.

There's something different about him, Tenya realizes as he watches his friend—how he moves, how he carries himself, how his eyes spark and glow in the dim light.

He looks… cold. There's no other way to describe it.

"Yeah," Midoriya says. "There is." He looks back, and his eyes are like stone. "I'm gonna need all your help."

In the end, it's a blow to the side that does it.

The dregs of One For All are fumes now, and keeping his power within his grasp is like trying to hold smoke in his hands.

But he does it anyway, because he must. Because there is nothing else that he can do.

He is angry, and perhaps it makes him careless. Perhaps the pressure and fear within him get the best of him, and All For One slips past his defenses, swinging a reinforced limb straight into his wound from six years back.

Pain explodes his vision. For a few nauseating seconds he is blind and deaf, numb to everything but the taste of blood in his mouth. When his sight comes back, it is obscured with steam, and the arm that he holds out as a shield is wasted and frail.

"How unfortunate," All For One drawls at him. The mask makes his voice sound more like a machine than a man. "Did you ever imagine that the truth would come out this way?"

Toshinori looks down, at his lopsided mess of a body as his failing hold on One For All keeps only some of his muscle mass in place. He looks up, at the lights shining down from a news helicopter.

He looks at his other arm, still swollen with muscle. How many more strikes does he have within him? How much longer can this battle be dragged out?

What does he have left to fight for, now that the world he helped build is crashing down around his ears?

They're shocked. Every one of them saw it happen, and the sight leaves them stricken until Izuku has to bark at them.

"Hey!" he snaps. Todoroki looks back at him, face tense. Iida and Yaoyorozu look to him as well, with Uraraka barely a beat behind. Izuku has to smack Kirishima on the back of his head to get him to turn around, too. "We're running out of time. Do you all know what you need to do?"

"Yes," Todoroki answers.

"Wait," Yaoyorozu says. "What about me?"

He digs into his pocket, brings out the handful of memory drives he stole from the lab, and presses them into her hands. "Take those. Keep them safe. Give them back to me when this is over. If you can't, make sure they go to a hero you trust. Aizawa-sensei would be best."

"A-alright, but—wait, what do you mean 'if I can't'?"

"Um, Deku?" Uraraka speaks up. "I think we all know what we're supposed to do. But… what are you going to be doing?"

To be perfectly honest, the last thing he wants to do is answer that. They'll only get worried. Or worse, they'll try to stop him.

He looks beyond them, to the ones they can't see. Rei is still here, still silent and clinging to him. Hino and Tensei are here, watching for his next move. And when he turns back to the battleground, he can see Nana at All-Might's right side, and One For All at his left.

And throughout the battlefield, all around them…

There must be hundreds of them. More dead that Izuku can count. They surround the two combatants, pale and spectral, every one of them watching and waiting to see who walks away from this fight, because watching is all that they can do.

Hundreds of ghosts. All For One has lived a long time, and it shows.

He's already broken his vow. He's already handed one murderer to the ghosts that waited for him. If they get what they want, how much more sleep can he possibly lose?

The ground beneath him shifts, and he hears warning cries from his friends. He glances down at the black tar forming around his feet, and it's almost a relief to see. It means someone else is making the decision for him.

A warm hand closes around his, and he follows it back to its owner's face.

He doesn't panic. This time, he can aim for pressure points. This time, he can make Todoroki let go without hurting him.

"He has Ragdoll's quirk," he tells them. "So I'm going to make sure he's looking at me instead of anyone else. Get in position. Stick to the plan. If everything goes right, you'll make it out with both of us."

He doesn't hear them reply.

"Tell me," All For One says. "What is it like, to watch everything you've ever worked for crumble around you? What is it like to know that everything you've ever done was for nothing?"

"None of it was for nothing." Toshinori spits blood when he speaks. "It's too late, All For One. I already passed on my power."

"Yes." He can't see the face behind that mask, but Toshinori can sense that his enemy is smiling. "I know this. You made a fascinating choice—I did so enjoy getting to know him, these past few days."

"Then you know he's strong," Toshinori retorts. "No matter what happens today, he is strong. Even if you kill me now, All For One… he will be so much more than I ever was."

The masked head tilts to the side. "…Are you so sure of that?"

His heart leaps to his throat. "If you've harmed him—"

All For One laughs, clear and cold. "Nothing so graceless, Toshinori. You ought to know me better than that. I didn't need to kill him, or take his quirk. All I wanted was to destroy what you've created. And I've done that."

His veins flow with ice water instead of blood. "What are you talking about—?"

"Children are so pliable, these days," All For One says. "Even the ones that think they hate you. You just have to know how to talk to them."

"What did you do." Rage and fear boil up within him. "What lies did you poison him with?"

"Why don't you ask him?" All For One's hand twists. There's a blur of black, and—

Izuku stands at his mortal enemy's side, hunched and battered with torn clothes and blood on his face, staring at Toshinori with the coldest eyes he ever hoped to see.

"Don't look so shocked," his enemy says. "He's a smart boy. Even he knows that it's better to learn from your teachers than copy them." He pauses, and there's a note of satisfaction in the way he tilts his head toward Izuku. "This will end soon. Once this is over, I can't imagine you'll be seeing each other again. But I'm not without a heart—if there's anything you'd like to say to one another before then, now is the time."

There's a split second of blinding terror, a single moment in which despair comes crashing down on his flagging spirit, and his heart sinks so low in his chest that it threatens never to rise again.

And then, his student turns his head, shuts one eye in an unmistakable wink, and waggles his right hand.

Hi All-Might, he finger-spells. I'm ok. AFO blind. Can't see sign.

Toshinori's eyes widen.

Weak right side, left shoulder, left knee. Ragdoll told me.

He wants to cry, honestly. And if All For One is blind, then maybe he can even get away with it.

"Well?" All For One prompts.

"No," Izuku says aloud.

"Hm. A shame. Very well, then—"

"I mean," Izuku says. "No. I'm talking to you. I know, it's probably hard to tell, if you can't see which way my head's pointing."

Toshinori chokes on blood, cutting off a warning.

"I mean, it's been interesting," Izuku goes on, and begins to shift away from All For One and toward Toshinori, until he's standing at the side, halfway between them, and facing the enemy. "Very exciting. But I'd like to go home now."

Silence stretches, for a few frozen seconds.

"You seem surprised," Izuku says. His voice is flat, almost dead. If anything, he sounds disinterested.

"Perhaps," All For One says, in a low, quiet tone. "You ought to think very hard about what you are saying, boy."

"Oh, I have. I've thought about everything I've ever said to you. And I honestly didn't expect you to believe most of it." He pauses. "I know I was feeding you bullshit, but I didn't think you'd actually swallow it."

"Izuku," Toshinori warns.

"Thanks for letting me run around your hideout for a while, though," he continues, as if heedless of the danger he's playing with. "I found some cool stuff."

There's another beat of silence, as the world stands still. And then—

The breath leaves All For One in a metallic hiss. "You… cunning little viper."

"That means a lot, coming from you."

"Now, this is a surprise." To anyone listening, All For One sounds calm. Toshinori wonders if Izuku can hear the quiet tremble beneath the machine-like smoothness, like a bowstring stretched taut. "I knew you were a clever one, but I never thought that All-Might would choose a successor with such a poisonous little tongue."

"Don't take it personally," Izuku tells him. His eyes haven't lost their chill. "I lie to everyone."

"And look where it's gotten you." All For One steps forward, and Izuku steps back. "Do you think your teacher can protect you, when he's this close to death himself? You're as good as alone."

"You're wrong," Izuku says, and his voice shakes only a little. "You're wrong about him and you were wrong about me. You were wrong about Bakugou, too. Did you know that when I told him to burn me and leave me behind, he didn't want to? I had to yell at him to get him to do it."

Something hisses within the mask, and it's not the respirator. Toshinori braces himself, ready throw himself between them if need be. Even if he can't win, he can give his student time to run.

"All-Might?" Izuku's voice tugs his attention away, and the boy catches his gaze and holds it. "He was right about one thing. About learning from teachers, instead of copying them." His green eyes bore into Toshinori's. "Don't copy her."

"Brave words." All For One's mace of an arm ripples and changes again. The metallic ridges protruding from the flesh look sharper now. "Perhaps you should have feared me instead."

Izuku's eyes flash as he looks back. "You think I don't? You do scare me, All For One. But the thing is, I'm always afraid. Every minute of every day. And when you're afraid for that long, you forget what it's like to feel anything else." His hands curl into fists. "And now, when something frightening comes along, I can't tell the difference anymore between the new fear and the old." His mouth twists into a look of contempt. "Of course you scare me. You think that makes you special?"

"Izuku, stop." Toshinori's voice cracks.

It cracks because he feels All For One's menace ripple out in an almost tangible wave. In all his years, Toshinori has never been sure whether it was a quirk or simply the power of All For One's presence. He exudes pure malice as if it's a chemical weapon, seeping beneath the skin, into lungs and hearts and eyes, until it replaces all sense with distilled terror. It brings images to Toshinori's mind, of blood and ruin, widespread death and destruction. In the face of that fear, all his mind will let him see is Nana dead and Izuku murdered in front of him and everyone he has ever known and cared for screaming to him for help, crying out as they suffer and die beyond his reach.

It takes a moment to shake off the feeling, before his vision clears and he sees Izuku very much alive in front of him, trembling and crying with bared teeth and cold, cold eyes.

"I can see now that I was mistaken with you, Midoriya Izuku," All For One's voice booms from behind the mask. "I will enjoy watching you suffer.

"No you won't," Izuku answers in a voice all cracked and broken. "You won't get the chance."

"Perhaps not. But the legacy I leave behind will only grow stronger. You're a fool if you think that one victory means—"

"Where's your doctor, All For One?" Izuku asks.

All For One stops.

He doesn't just hesitate.

He stops.

Toshinori feels the taut bowstring snap in two.

"You shouldn't have killed her," Izuku tells him quietly. "Maybe you wouldn't have lost so much, if you hadn't. Or maybe I would've found another reason to hate you. It's not like you make it hard."

"What are you talking about?" All For One snarls behind the mask.

"It doesn't matter if I tell you." Izuku's eyes burn cold with anger. "I doubt you ever even learned her name."

All For One lunges, but it's slow, even to Toshinori's eyes. The macelike limb seems to drag through the air, instead of whipping around with the same blinding speed as before.

(He can't see, of course. He can't see the hands holding it back, dozens upon hundreds of pairs of hands, holding back the blow, slowing it down enough for Toshinori to catch it, and for the boy to slip beneath it.)

One For All lights up the night. Izuku kicks out at All For One's weak knee, and in the space left by the enemy's pain, he hurtles clear.

Something flies overhead.

The plan had been simple. A ramp of ice and Iida's speed give them momentum, and Uraraka's quirk takes away the weight that might have held them down. With Iida on one side, Todoroki on the other, and Kirishima higher up in the middle, Izuku sees his three friends sailing through the air above the battle, and hears Kirishima's desperate call.

"Bakugou! Bakugou, up here!"

Bakugou is just ahead, surrounded by the remainder of the League of Villains. His head tilts back, and his eyes widen at the sight.

"Grab my hand!" Kirishima yells. Bakugou doesn't hesitate. A series of powerful explosions send him hurtling upward, and Izuku readies himself to leap after him.

A hand closes around his arm, hard and cruel and burning at the touch.

"Not so fast, Midoriya." Dabi's voice sounds close by his ear.

Izuku whips around until they're almost nose to nose, staring the villain dead in the eye as he whispers back.

"Go home to your mother, Todoroki-kun."

Dabi lets go. Izuku rips himself away, calls One For All into his limbs, and leaps.

He feels hands behind him, supporting him, boosting him upward until his friends are within reach. He's surrounded by the dead, reaching for him and helping him. Just for a moment, Izuku feels himself reaching back, not with his hands, but with something else.

It's Todoroki who catches him by the hand. This time, Izuku doesn't let go.

A warp gate opens, even though Kurogiri is unconscious. All For One's hand twists, and Magne's quirk activates at his command instead of hers. The scattered remnants of the league are forcibly brought together and thrust through the portal. When it finally closes, cutting off Shigaraki's final scream of protest, the two of them are alone on the battlefield.

"You've lost," Toshinori says.

One. He has one more strike left in him. He has to make it count.

"I won years ago, Toshinori." All For One hisses back. "Do you know why? Because I planted the destruction of this world as we know it. It's only a matter of time."

"Then I will raise its salvation." Toshinori steps forward. "I will bring you down now, All For One. And they will bring down Shigaraki Tomura."

"You haven't figured it out, have you?" All For One says. Gone is his facade of calm and control. His voice is tight with rage, even behind the mechanical quality the mask gives it. "You believe yourself the savior of the world, when you failed to save someone who should have been so close to you." His breath hisses in and out through the mask. "Shigaraki Tomura, born Shimura Tenko. What would your precious Nana say, if she knew that you had failed her own grandson?"

Toshinori flinches back as if struck. His heart has been torn and savaged so many times over the past three days, and All For One threatens to shred it completely.

His heart nearly fails him again, but—

Don't copy her.

He can't fall here. Not when he has a student—when he has many students waiting for him to raise them. Not when there are civilians here, trapped and injured by the destruction of the warehouse and its surrounding streets.

I can't die yet. I have too much to do.

He stokes the failing sparks within him, gathers up the dregs of One For All until there is nothing left to take. He has one more strike left in him.

He meets All For One in the middle, one last time.

They don't see it. None of them see it, except for Izuku.

No one see hundreds of silent spectators finally move. No one sees them closing in and reaching for the enemy, not for his flesh but for the metal mask on his head.

Everyone sees the final blow as it lands, but no one sees the hundreds of hands stretching out, clawing and tearing at the mechanisms that keep their killer breathing and beyond their grasp.

No one sees that.

They see All-Might standing alone on the battlefield, battered and broken, and they see him point, and they hear the words You're next ring out from the Symbol of Peace. But no one sees the pale, silent man standing at his side, tears rolling down his face as he lifts his hands and signs to the one person who can.

It's done. Thank you, and good luck .

Izuku sees it from where he stands, exhausted and supported on all sides by friends, both living and dead.

He turns, buries his face in Todoroki's shoulder, and sobs until his voice is gone.