BOOM.
The impact thundered across the USJ.
Nomu's arm crumpled.
Not bent.
Not pushed back.
Crumpled—bones pulverized, muscle collapsing inward as if gravity had abruptly doubled in that one spot. The limb folded uselessly, hanging at an angle that no living thing should have survived.
The monster staggered back a half-step, regeneration already kicking in, flesh bubbling and crawling as it tried to rebuild what had been lost.
Izuku lowered his fist slightly, eyes narrowing.
…That's it?
The thought came unbidden.
I was expecting more for fifty percent.
Combo ticked up.
10%.
Nomu roared, fury overtaking whatever conditioning it had left, and charged again—faster, heavier, smashing through broken ground with brute force.
Izuku adjusted his stance, calm, almost clinical.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's recalibrate."
He rolled his shoulder, Atlas humming beneath his skin like a restrained titan.
If one fifty percent mangles an arm…
His gaze locked onto the creature's center mass.
Then let's see what happens when I throw dozens of them.
Izuku vanished.
Consecutive punches kept landing on the nomu.
Combo: 250%
Its body became more and more mangled with each punch.
Izuku reappeared at Nomu's chest.
BOOM.
Then—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
His fists became pistons.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Each strike carried the same compressed force as the first—fifty percent Atlas output—but now they stacked, never giving the regeneration time to finish its work.
Combo: 50%
100%
150%
Nomu's torso collapsed inward, ribs pulverizing and reforming only to shatter again a fraction of a second later. Muscle tore, reknit, and tore apart in a violent cycle that pushed its regeneration past its intended limits.
200%.
Izuku shifted angles mid-combo, rotating around the creature faster than its eyes could track.
A punch to the sternum.
A hammerfist to the shoulder.
A straight blow to the neck that snapped its head sideways with a concussive crack.
250%.
Nomu's body was no longer holding a recognizable shape.
Its chest cavity caved in completely, spine bending at an unnatural angle as shockwaves rippled through its mass. Limbs detached and reattached in frantic, uneven bursts as regeneration struggled to keep cohesion.
The monster roared—but the sound came out warped, lungs unable to stabilize long enough to draw breath.
Izuku didn't stop.
He couldn't afford to.
Each punch landed before the last finished echoing.
The ground beneath them shattered into dust, crater expanding outward with every impact as compressed shockwaves hammered the USJ floor into submission.
From the sidelines, Shigaraki stared, eyes wide, scratching forgotten.
"…That's not…" he muttered. "…that's not meant to be possible—"
Aizawa watched in grim silence.
Not cheering.
Not hopeful.
Calculating.
Izuku finally broke off, skidding backward as the combo window closed.
Nomu hit the ground like a sack of broken machinery, body twitching violently as regeneration tried—and failed—to reassemble a functional form.
Izuku straightened, breathing heavier now, sweat running freely down his face.
Combo reset.
He flexed his fingers once.
"…Okay," he said calmly, eyes still locked on the monster. "That's closer to what I expected."
Nomu twitched again.
Izuku's stance lowered.
"Time to end this..."
He clenched his fist,
Let's do this...100% of the base ability... I have about 40% energy left.
The air around Izuku didn't just compress — it collapsed.
Concrete beneath his feet liquefied into powder as gravity warped inward,his leg muscles pressing into the earth.
Izuku took one step forward.
The world failed to keep up.
His punch landed.
There was no sound.
Not at first.
Nomu ceased to exist as a coherent object.
Its torso didn't cave in — it detonated, flesh, bone, and shock-absorption layers atomized into a crimson mist as the force annihilated everything in its path. The creature was blasted apart at the molecular level, limbs vaporizing before they could even register pain.
Then the shockwave arrived.
KRRRRAAAAAA—
The USJ exploded.
The roof didn't crack.
It was ripped away, steel supports snapping like twigs as a hemispheric blast tore upward, shredding the dome, turning everything into a fine dust that dispersed into the sky. Walls bowed outward and collapsed. Observation towers folded. Entire sections of the facility were erased in an expanding ring of devastation.
The clouds above didn't split.
They were obliterated.
Vapor dispersed violently across the horizon, the sky clearing in an instant as pressure waves tore through the atmosphere, scattering cloud systems like dust before a god's breath.
Miles away, windows rattled.
Shockwaves rolled across Musutafu.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then—
Silence.
Nomu was gone.
Not unconscious.
Not incapacitated.
Gone.
Izuku stood at the epicenter of a massive crater, the ground beneath him glassed and fractured, steam rising from scorched stone. His arm trembled violently now as Atlas disengaged, energy ripping out of him all at once.
He dropped to one knee.
Not injured.
Just spent.
10% energy left. I guess even a Senju would find that straining on their energy.
His breathing was ragged, vision was swimming slightly as the exhaustion hit him like the aftermath of a brutal marathon.
"…Combo expired," he muttered hoarsely.
Around him, the USJ was unrecognizable.
Aizawa stared in disbelief, captured weapon hanging limply at his side.
Shigaraki stood frozen near the fountain's remains, hands no longer scratching, eyes wide and empty as he stared at the smoking void where Nomu had been.
"…That," Aizawa said quietly, voice barely audible over the settling debris, "…is not a human's power."
Around the USJ, students who had begun regrouping finally caught sight of the aftermath. Their voices rose in stunned, overlapping disbelief.
"Didn't he look just like All Might just now?"
"That was… that was prime All Might strength!"
"No way—did you see the sky?!"
Kaminari squinted up at the open blue above them, then back at Izuku's silhouette standing in the crater. "Guys… do you think he's, like, All Might's secret love child or something?"
"That doesn't even make sense!" Mina shot back, though her eyes never left Izuku.
Uraraka swallowed, hands pressed tight against her chest. "I felt it… even from here."
Kirishima laughed weakly, half in awe, half in disbelief. "Manly doesn't even begin to cover that…"
Bakugou said nothing.
He stood rigid, fists clenched so hard his arms trembled, staring at Izuku as the world had just shifted sideways.
"…You bastard," he muttered. "How far ahead are you?"
Near the crater's edge, Izuku finally straightened fully, forcing steadiness back into his legs. His breathing slowed, though the exhaustion still weighed heavily in his muscles.
He looked around.
The USJ was ruined. The villains were gone or unconscious. The students were alive.
Mission accomplished.
Shigaraki's lips twitched.
"…Sensei," he said quietly, voice stripped of its earlier mockery, "this wasn't in the plan."
The mist behind him began to stir again, unstable and hurried now.
Aizawa's capture weapon snapped taut as he took a step forward. "You're done here."
Shigaraki's red eyes flicked back to Izuku one last time, something cold and unresolved burning behind them.
"…We'll meet again," he said softly. "I don't know what you are yet… but next time, I'll be ready."
The mist swallowed him.
BOOM!
The front door caved in.
"I AM HERE!"
All Might's voice thundered across the USJ, larger than life, carrying the weight of reassurance and fury in equal measure.
For half a second, there was silence.
Then—
"…Huh?"
All Might stopped.
He looked around.
At the unconscious villains littering the ground.
At the shattered terrain.
At the missing dome, open sky stretches overhead where the ceiling used to be.
At the massive crater in the center of the USJ, still steaming.
His smile faltered.
"…Did I miss something?" he asked.
Aizawa glanced at him, then back at the devastation, then finally pointed with two fingers toward Izuku, who was sitting on the edge of the crater, arms resting on his knees, breathing steadily.
"…He did it," Aizawa said flatly.
All Might followed the gesture.
His eyes widened.
"…Young Midoriya?" he said, disbelief creeping into his voice.
Izuku looked up, meeting his gaze.
"Hey," he said, a little sheepish. "Sorry. I think I broke the roof."
All Might stared at him.
Then at the clear sky.
Then back at Izuku.
"…The roof," he repeated faintly.
Around them, the students finally found their voices again.
"All Might! You saw it too, right?!"
"That punch—!"
"The clouds just disappeared!"
All Might took a slow step forward, boots crunching on broken concrete.
"…Young Midoriya," he said carefully, "…what exactly happened here?"
Izuku scratched the back of his head, considering how to summarize the last few minutes of reality-shattering violence.
"There was a monster," he said. "It was very durable."
All Might blinked.
"…Was."
Izuku nodded before pointing to the remains on the floor.
"Yeah."
Silence stretched.
Then All Might laughed.
A loud, booming, incredulous laugh that echoed across the open USJ.
"HAHAHAHA—! I leave you alone for one training exercise, and you decide to save the day yourself?!"
He clapped a massive hand on Izuku's shoulder, then immediately froze.
"…Oh," All Might added, feeling the lingering strain in Izuku's posture. "You're exhausted."
"Little bit," Izuku admitted.
Aizawa sighed. "That's an understatement."
All Might's expression softened, pride bleeding through the shock.
"…Well done," he said quietly, for Izuku alone. "You protected everyone."
Izuku looked around again.
At the students.
At the teachers.
At the empty space where the villains had been.
"…That was the idea," he replied.
Sirens grew louder outside.
Backup had arrived.
.....
"Oh yeah," Izuku said suddenly, looking up, realization clicking into place. "I forgot you guys don't see it the same way I do."
Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow slightly. "Care to elaborate?"
Izuku tilted his head, thinking back to the moment—the feel of the impact, the absence afterward.
"Sorry, Officer Tsukauchi," he said calmly, not defensive, not flippant. "But… that thing wasn't living."
The room went quiet.
Tsukauchi didn't react immediately. He watched Izuku carefully, eyes sharp but not hostile.
"Most people," Tsukauchi said slowly, "would say you killed it."
Izuku shook his head once. "No vital continuity. No autonomous will. No fear response. No self-preservation."
He met Tsukauchi's gaze evenly.
"It was a construct," Izuku continued. "A weapon with regeneration, not a lifeform with survival instinct. I didn't end a life. I shut down a system."
Tsukauchi was silent for a long moment.
Then he exhaled.
"…That lines up with what our specialists are saying," he admitted. "Biological engineering. Artificial nervous control. No independent identity."
Izuku relaxed slightly. "I figured."
Tsukauchi studied him again, this time longer.
"You understand," he said, "that from the outside, what you did looked… excessive."
Izuku nodded. "I do."
"And you're not upset about it?"
Izuku considered the question seriously.
"…I'm tired," he said. "And I wish it hadn't been necessary. But I'm not guilty."
Tsukauchi's eyes softened, just a fraction.
"That answer," he said, "is why you're sitting in a holding room and not a courtroom."
Izuku smiled faintly. "Good to know."
There was a knock at the door.
Tsukauchi turned as it opened, revealing Aizawa and Nezu standing just outside.
Nezu's tail flicked cheerfully. "Ah! Excellent timing. We've finished the preliminary reports."
Aizawa glanced at Izuku, eyes tired but sharp. "You holding up?"
Izuku shrugged. "I've been worse."
Nezu clasped his paws behind his back and looked at Tsukauchi. "Legally speaking, the Nomu is classified as a non-sapient bioweapon. There will be no charges."
Tsukauchi nodded. "That matches my conclusion."
Nezu turned his gaze back to Izuku, eyes gleaming with something between curiosity and calculation.
"However," Nezu added pleasantly, "we will be having several discussions about escalation, proportional response, and property damage."
Izuku winced slightly. "Yeah… that's fair."
Aizawa sighed. "You blew the roof off a UA facility."
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. "In my defense, it was already a bad day."
Nezu chuckled. "Indeed. A very bad day—for the villains."
Tsukauchi gestured toward the door. "You're free to go, Midoriya Izuku. For now."
Tsukauchi stepped aside, unlocking the cell.
As Izuku stood and stepped out, Tsukauchi spoke again, quieter this time.
"For what it's worth," the officer said, "if you hadn't acted… we'd be counting bodies."
Izuku met his eyes.
"I know," he said simply.
...
"So," Nezu said, tail flicking lightly behind him, eyes gleaming with unmistakable curiosity, "your ability evolved again?"
Izuku nodded once. "Super strength. Plain and simple. Along with my super-speed… yeah. It was actually pretty straightforward." He paused, then added honestly, "But it drained my energy really quickly."
Nezu's ears twitched. "Fascinating. A clean escalation rather than diversification."
"And you didn't think," Aizawa cut in flatly, arms crossed, "to use your super-speed to outmaneuver the Nomu instead of meeting it head-on?"
Izuku looked at him, unbothered.
"The Nomu had shock absorption and regeneration," he replied evenly. "Speed wouldn't have ended the fight. It would've prolonged it."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed slightly. "Explain."
Izuku leaned back against the wall, choosing his words carefully.
"If I stayed mobile, it would keep adapting. Regenerating. Drawing the fight out while Shigaraki regrouped or escalated." He met Aizawa's gaze. "I needed a decisive outcome. Something that exceeded its regeneration threshold."
Nezu's smile widened just a fraction. "So you opted for overwhelming force."
"Yes," Izuku said simply. "One hit that erased the problem instead of managing it."
Aizawa was quiet for a long moment.
"…That's a dangerous line of thinking," he finally said.
Izuku nodded. "I know."
Nezu tilted his head. "Yet you're aware of it. That's the key difference."
He tapped his clipboard lightly. "From a strategic standpoint, your decision was sound. From an educational standpoint—" his eyes glinted "—we now need to teach you restraint without dulling effectiveness."
Aizawa sighed. "Great. Another problem child."
Izuku smiled faintly. "I prefer 'situationally excessive.'"
Nezu laughed softly. "Oh, I like him."
Aizawa shot Nezu a look. "Of course you do."
Nezu turned back to Izuku. "One more question, Mr. Midoriya. Be honest."
Izuku straightened slightly. "Sure."
"If Nomu hadn't been classified as non-sapient," Nezu asked calmly, "would you still have thrown that punch?"
Izuku didn't answer immediately.
"I don't know," he said calmly at last. "If I could communicate—if there was any way to reach them and help them—then no. I wouldn't."
Aizawa watched him closely.
"But," Izuku continued, meeting Nezu's gaze without flinching, "if that individual was hellbent on killing everyone… if there was no opening, no hesitation, no person left to pull back from the edge…"
He paused, not for effect, but because he was choosing honesty.
"…Then I probably would," he finished. "To save people."
The room stayed quiet.
Nezu's tail slowed, then stilled.
"That," he said thoughtfully, "is not the answer of someone chasing power."
Aizawa exhaled through his nose. "It's the answer of someone accepting responsibility."
Izuku nodded once. "I don't want to be judge, jury, or executioner. But I won't freeze when people are about to die."
Nezu leaned back in his chair, paws folding together. "You understand that once you cross that line—even for the right reasons—it stays with you."
"I know," Izuku replied. "That's why I don't want to cross it unless there's no other choice."
Aizawa studied him for a long moment, then looked away. "…That's more restraint than most pros start with."
Nezu smiled faintly. "Very well. Then UA's role is clear."
He looked back at Izuku, eyes sharp but approving.
"We will teach you how to recognize that moment correctly—and how to make sure it truly is the last option."
Izuku straightened slightly. "That's all I can ask for."
Nezu tapped his clipboard once. "Then we are in agreement."
Aizawa turned toward the door. "Get some rest, Midoriya. You're going to need it."
Izuku nodded. "Yes, sir."
As he stepped out into the hallway, the door closing softly behind him, Nezu spoke quietly to Aizawa.
"…He's dangerous," Nezu said.
Aizawa replied without hesitation. "Yeah."
A beat.
"…But he's trying very hard not to be."
Nezu's smile returned—slow, thoughtful.
"And that," he said, "may be the most important trait of all."
....
Izuku collapsed onto Himiko's chest as his bones had finally decided they were done pretending.
She caught him without hesitation, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers threading gently through his hair. His weight wasn't a burden. If anything, it felt grounding.
"I'm so tired, Himiko…" he murmured, voice muffled against her shirt. "What is my life becoming…"
She didn't answer right away.
Instead, she tightened her hold just a little, chin resting against the top of his head. He could feel her heartbeat — steady, real — a reminder that this moment existed outside of villains, teachers, and impossible power.
"…It's becoming loud," she said softly. "And scary. And kind of amazing."
Izuku let out a weak, humorless huff. "That doesn't help."
"It's not supposed to," she replied. "I'm not here to fix you."
Her fingers slowed, brushing through his curls in a repetitive, soothing motion.
"I think," Himiko continued, quieter now, "you're becoming someone who keeps choosing people over fear. Even when it tires you."
Izuku's shoulders sagged.
"That's exhausting," he admitted.
"I know," she said. "That's why you're allowed to rest here. Just make sure you're not becoming a second All Might."
He shifted slightly, pressing closer, and for the first time since the USJ, the tension in his chest loosened.
"…I don't feel like a kid anymore," he said after a moment.
Himiko smiled faintly, though he couldn't see it. "Yeah. That happens when the world starts leaning on you."
Silence settled between them — not awkward, not heavy. Just quiet.
After a while, she spoke again.
"You didn't become a monster today," she said firmly. "You stopped one."
Izuku swallowed.
"…I needed to hear that."
"I know."
She kissed the top of his head, brief and gentle.
"Sleep," Himiko said. "Tomorrow you can worry about what you're becoming. Tonight, you're just Izuku. And you're safe."
His breathing slowed before he resolved himself.
Propping himself up, he gave a cheeky smile,
"Oh, I don't think I'm quite as tired now..."
Pinch.
"Izukuu..." She panted, "Your mother isn't even asleep yet."
He smiled,
"She knows about us. She'll busy herself."
Himiko looked bashful before she nodded.
....
Yaaawn.
Izuku started his morning by checking his notifications after defeating the Nomu,
[Congratulations on defeating the USJ Nomu! You have gained 1x diamond ticket.]
Spin it.
[Congratulations, the user has gained:
* [Hoopa]
|Mythical Familiar|
Pokémon - Hoopa is the Djinn Pokémon. In addition to its ability to use dark and psychic attribute attacks and its great physical might, Hoopa is capable of using its rings as incredibly versatile portals capable of penetrating even dimensional boundaries between universes.]
Izuku's eyes widened.
"What the fuck..."
Izuku had finally understood what the prefixes were.
They're the worlds they come from.
Izuku slowly crept out of his bed and quickly got ready before leaving the house, giving Himiko a peck on her forehead.
It was the weekend, so they had two days off from university.
Izuku slowly made his way to a dark alley.
The alley was quiet.
Not abandoned — Musutafu never really slept — but quiet enough that the sounds of the city dulled into a distant hum. Neon lights flickered at the mouth of the street, casting long shadows between stacked crates and rusted fire escapes.
Izuku stopped near the center and exhaled slowly.
"…Okay," he muttered. "Let's do this carefully."
He focused inward, reaching for the familiar space he'd only felt faintly since waking up.
"Hoopa," he said softly. "Manifest."
The air twisted.
Not tore — twisted, like reality itself had been gently grabbed and rotated out of alignment.
A golden ring snapped into existence first, hovering at chest height. Symbols etched along its surface pulsed with a deep violet glow. A second ring followed, then a third, orbiting lazily as if obeying a logic Izuku couldn't quite grasp.
Then something stepped through.
Hoopa emerged upside down.
Literally.
A small, floating figure tumbled out of a ring headfirst, did a lazy flip in midair, and landed cross-legged in the air in front of him, rings clinking softly as they settled into orbit around its body.
Purple skin. Gold ornaments. Eyes that gleamed with ancient amusement.
It stared at Izuku.
Izuku stared back.
"…You're real," Izuku said flatly.
Hoopa grinned.
"Hoopa is always real," it said, voice light and musical, echoing slightly as if coming from more than one place at once. "You finally opened the door."
Izuku swallowed. "You're… a djinn?"
Hoopa tilted its head, rings spinning faster for a moment. "Among other things."
"Who are you loyal to?"
"You. I'll try to complete whatever requests you have to the best of my ability, but if it's something foolish, I won't be happy," It confirmed in a squeaky tone.
[Confirmed. Familiars cannot and will not betray the user. This is backed by the Chaos Gacha. They do have their own personalities, though.]
Izuku nodded.
"So... do you know about the gacha..."
Hoopa nodded but said nothing else.
Izuku understood it didn't want to say too much.
"So...think we could go to another world?"
Hoopa grinned at its master's face.
"Of course, master! Do you want a hopeful world? Or maybe one without you?" Hoopa asked.
Izuku took a moment to think.
That bartender. He said... this was a world where I didn't get a quirk...
"Hoopa, can we go to a world where I got a quirk?" Izuku spoke.
Hoopa cocked its eyebrow before speaking sweetly,
"One where you get a quirk or one where... You get given a quirk?"
Izuku swallowed,
"The latter."
Hoopa nodded, the grin never leaving its face.
"Very well," it said lightly.
One of the golden rings slid forward and expanded, the symbols along its edge rotating lazily as space inside it deepened. There was no dramatic pull this time, just a subtle shift in pressure, like stepping into a different room with heavier air.
Izuku hesitated for half a second, then stepped through.
The sensation was strange but not painful. No tearing, no vertigo — just a brief moment where his balance felt off, then solid ground again beneath his feet.
He blinked.
They were standing on the UA campus.
But it wasn't his UA.
The layout was the same, but everything felt… newer. Cleaner. The buildings looked less worn, the paths less scuffed by years of foot traffic. Even the air felt different, brighter somehow.
Izuku slowly turned in place. "Okay. So this is definitely UA."
Hoopa floated out beside him, rings orbiting lazily. "Same place. Different branch."
Izuku's eyes flicked back to the students instinctively.
"A couple of months after the USJ incident," Hoopa said.
Izuku frowned slightly. "So… early in the term."
"Yes," Hoopa replied simply.
Izuku glanced at Hoopa again. "They can't see you?"
Hoopa shook its head, rings chiming softly. "Not unless I want them to."
"Want me to make you invisible too?"
Izuku hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Let's not draw attention."
Hoopa snapped its fingers.
There was no flash, no distortion. Just a faint pressure behind Izuku's eyes, like someone gently smoothing over a thought before it fully formed.
"That's it?" Izuku asked.
"Yes," Hoopa said cheerfully. "You exist. They just won't think about you."
Izuku stepped closer to the path to test it.
Students kept walking past him.
None of them reacted.
Izuku let out a slow breath. "Why are they so...Young?"
"This universe's UA is a high school."
Izuku was gobsmacked for a second.
"They train heroes from their teen years?" Izuku said incredulously.
After calming down, he slipped his hands into his pockets and walked alongside the flow of students. Teachers crossed his path without pause. Aizawa passed close enough that Izuku could hear him mutter about paperwork.
Nothing.
No recognition. No hesitation.
"This is weird," Izuku murmured. "Being here without being here."
...
"So where the hell is the other me?" Izuku muttered, a little more exasperated than he meant to be. "I wonder what quirk he has… wait…"
The thought clicked into place on its own.
"…One For All."
Izuku stopped walking.
For half a second, his mind tried to sprint ahead of itself, pulling threads together that didn't quite belong to him yet. He felt the instinctive urge to dig deeper, to chase the implication.
Then he shook his head firmly.
"Nope. Not doing that," he said under his breath. "Not without context."
Hoopa floated lazily upside down beside him. "Spoils the surprise?"
"More like spoils my sanity," Izuku replied.
He glanced around the hallway. It was quieter than before. Too quiet. Most of the first-years were gone.
"Where is my class?" Izuku sighed.
Izuku frowned. "So that's why UA feels empty."
He thought for a moment, then nodded to himself,
"Alright," he said. "Let's go meet the mouse."
Hoopa perked up. "The clever one?"
"Yeah," Izuku said. "He's always been sensible. And he's probably one of the only people who'd actually believe me if I walked into his office and said I'm not from this timeline."
Hoopa giggled. "Hoopa likes him already."
They changed direction, heading deeper into the administrative wing. The psychic haze of invisibility held steady as they passed staff offices and empty meeting rooms.
As they approached the principal's office, Izuku slowed.
"…I'm not here to change anything," he reminded himself. "Just information. That's it."
Hoopa floated closer, lowering its voice conspiratorially. "Questions only. No pranks."
Izuku gave it a look. "I don't trust you when you say that."
Hoopa smiled sweetly.
They stopped outside the familiar door.
Izuku took a breath, raised his hand, and knocked,
"Hoopa, just don't let him see you, bring my invisibility down."
Hoopa nodded, snapping its fingers once. The pressure behind Izuku's eyes lifted, clean and immediate.
"Come in," Nezu called.
Izuku stepped inside.
Nezu looked up from his desk.
And frowned.
"Izuku… Midoriya?"
Izuku closed the door behind him and stood there, hands at his sides, posture relaxed but alert.
"Hi," he said. "This is going to sound strange."
Nezu's eyes narrowed slightly. Not in alarm — in focus. His tail stilled.
"You're... older," Nezu said calmly. "You're not meant to be here. You're in Kamino right now, trying to help out with Bakugou's rescue."
Izuku nodded. "That's part of the problem. I'm not from this Kamino."
Silence.
Nezu studied him carefully, gaze flicking over details most people wouldn't notice. His breathing. His stance. The way his eyes moved.
"…Interesting," Nezu murmured.
Izuku blinked. "You're taking this very well."
"I tend to," Nezu replied. "When improbabilities walk into my office instead of exploding."
He gestured with a paw. "Sit. Start from the beginning. Slowly."
Izuku did, taking the chair across from the desk.
"I'm not your Izuku," he said plainly. "I'm from a different timeline. Similar world. Different path."
Nezu's ears twitched. "Time travel?"
"Close," Izuku said. "Branch travel. I just… stepped sideways."
Nezu leaned back slightly. "And you expect me to believe this."
Izuku shrugged. "I was hoping you would. You usually do."
Nezu smiled faintly. "Flattery noted."
He tapped a claw against the desk. "Give me something verifiable."
Izuku didn't hesitate. "All Might possesses One For All. He was grievously wounded in his fight with All For One previously. I healed him in my timeline."
Nezu froze.
Slowly, he turned his head and looked at the bookcase.
"…That knowledge is classified," he said softly.
Izuku nodded. "In my world, too."
Nezu looked back at him, eyes sharp now, fully awake.
"…Very well," he said. "I believe you."
Izuku let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thank you."
Nezu folded his paws together. "Now. What do you want from this little trip of yours?"
Izuku leaned forward slightly.
"To help. What's going on in Kamino?"
Nezu's ears dipped as he exhaled, fingers steepling on the desk.
"There was a training camp," he said. "It was attacked. Bakugou Katsuki was captured. The pro heroes have planned an operation to retrieve him from the League of Villains' base."
Izuku snorted before he could stop himself.
"Of course he was," he said. "He's a pain as a uni student in my world. I can't imagine what he's like, aiming to be a hero at this age with that temper."
Nezu's mouth twitched, just barely. "Your assessment aligns with our internal reports."
Izuku leaned back in the chair. "Let me guess. They're worried he'll defect."
Nezu nodded. "Among other concerns. All For One is involved. Or at least… suspected."
Izuku's expression sobered. "So this is bigger than just a rescue."
"Yes," Nezu replied. "The raid is already underway. Most of your class is watching from Kamino Ward."
Izuku stared at the desk for a moment, tapping his fingers once against his knee.
"…Does All Might know?" he asked.
Nezu's eyes softened slightly. "He does. And he's going anyway."
Izuku let out a quiet breath. "Figures."
He stood, pacing once across the office.
"I'm not here to replace anyone," Izuku said. "And I'm not here to take credit. But if things go wrong—"
"They might," Nezu interrupted gently.
Izuku nodded. "Then I want to be close enough to act."
Nezu studied him for a long moment, calculating probabilities that didn't quite fit any model he'd built before.
Nezu's tail flicked. "And you're prepared to accept responsibility for what comes after."
Izuku met his gaze. "I won't be here long enough. It'll be attributed to a ghost in the system."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Nezu nodded. "Very well."
He reached into a drawer and slid a small data tablet across the desk.
"Kamino Ward. Coordinates. Hero positions as of ten minutes ago," Nezu said. "No direct engagement unless absolutely necessary."
Izuku picked it up. "Observation first."
"Always," Nezu agreed.
"Well, I guess it's time for the fastest man alive to get to work," Izuku exhaled as he cracked a finger.
[Active abilities: Atlas, Observation Haki, Burden Breaker, Combo.]
Fwoom!
Izuku vanished.
Nezu muttered,
"Faster than All Might... huh, his words might have merit."
.....
Kamino Ward blurred.
Buildings stretched into streaks of light and shadow as Izuku tore across the cityscape, his feet barely touching solid ground as Burden Breaker continuously sped him up. Observation Haki painted the world ahead of him in layers — movement, intent, danger — letting him thread through traffic, over rooftops, between radio towers without slowing.
He wasn't sprinting blindly.
He was navigating.
Sirens wailed below. Helicopters hovered near the edge of the ward. News vans crowded intersections, cameras trained on a single ruined district.
Izuku slowed just enough to stop tearing holes in the air and landed silently atop a building overlooking the operation.
Smoke rose from a cluster of shattered warehouses.
Heroes were already in position.
He crouched, eyes narrowing as Observation expanded.
A dozen pro heroes moving in coordinated bursts. Civilians held back behind barricades. Police perimeter holding — barely.
And deeper in—
Something heavy.
Something wrong.
Izuku grimaced slightly.
"…Yeah," he murmured. "This is where it goes bad."
Hoopa floated into view beside him, rings rotating slowly.
"Want invisibility?" it asked.
Izuku nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. Full mental camouflage."
Hoopa snapped its fingers.
The world didn't change.
But Izuku slipped out of it.
He stepped off the rooftop and dropped down into Kamino Ward, unseen, unheard, moving parallel to history as it unfolded — close enough to touch, but not yet ready to interfere.
"Observation only," Izuku reminded himself quietly.
Hoopa giggled. "For now."
Izuku's gaze locked onto the center of the commotion.
All Might's fists were locked in another figure's grasp.
All For One...
Izuku smiled.
"This is going to be easier than I thought," He whispered to no one in particular. "First, though, let's get the kids and the injured out of here."
He moved.
Not in a straight line.
Izuku threaded through the area like a ghost. To anyone watching, it would've looked like people were simply… no longer where they'd been.
A woman trapped under a collapsed storefront vanished, reappearing behind the police line with a startled gasp.
Two officers blinking in confusion suddenly had three unconscious civilians placed between them.
A chunk of falling concrete froze mid-drop as a slab of ice formed beneath it, turning a lethal collapse into a ramp that guided people out instead of crushing them.
Izuku didn't stop moving.
He didn't speak.
He just kept removing variables.
Hoopa floated along above the streetlights, rings spinning lazily. "You're cleaning the board."
"Hard to fight when there are civilians everywhere," Izuku replied quietly. "Harder for him to play mind games."
A sudden spike of intent flared.
Izuku turned his head sharply.
A shockwave tore through a side street as a Nomu slammed into a building, debris spraying outward toward a cluster of injured heroes.
Izuku appeared there a heartbeat later, Atlas reinforcing his legs as he caught the collapsing wall with one hand and redirected it into the pavement. Concrete shattered harmlessly.
"Evac route's clear," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
The heroes nearby stared, confused, some clearly sensing something but unable to focus on it.
Mental invisibility held.
Izuku was already gone.
"Time to get myself and the kids out of there," he muttered.
He moved again, this time deliberately toward the edge of the ward where the students had been corralled behind temporary barricades and police lines. Observation painted their positions clearly in his mind — fear, confusion, anger, helplessness.
He appeared among them like a passing gust of wind.
One moment, they were watching the distant clash on giant screens and through drifting smoke.
Next, the ground vanished beneath their feet.
There were startled shouts, gasps, and someone yelping in surprise as gravity seemed to lurch sideways.
Then solid ground again.
A quiet street several blocks away. Emergency lights. Medics. Police officers who suddenly found themselves staring at a group of UA students who absolutely had not been there a second ago.
"What—?!" Kaminari started.
Uraraka grabbed her own arm, wide-eyed. "We moved…?"
Bakugou spun around instantly, explosive instinct flaring, eyes sharp. "Oi—! Who the hell—"
Izuku was already moving again.
One by one, in rapid succession, he relocated them in small clusters rather than all at once, careful not to overload anyone or draw too much attention in a single spot. Some were dropped near heroes. Others near medical teams. Always just out of immediate danger.
No speeches. No reassurance. Just results.
Eventually, he grabbed a ripped piece of cloth and tied it around his face.
"Time to get stuck in the action?" Hoopa asked.
"Nope, time to give an old man some rest," Izuku confirmed.
He stepped forward and vanished again, not toward the ground this time, but upward—skirting the edges of the shockwaves rippling through the air. Every clash between All Might and All For One sent pressure rolling outward like a storm front.
Izuku threaded through it.
He reappeared just behind All Might as another blow was thrown, timing perfect. Atlas surged, not explosively, but cleanly.
Izuku placed a hand against All Might's back and pushed.
Not hard.
Just enough.
The momentum shifted. All Might slid out of the line of attack instead of meeting it head-on, boots carving shallow trenches in the pavement as he stumbled a half-step to the side.
"What—?" All Might started, instinctively bracing.
Izuku was already moving past him.
He intercepted the next strike meant for All Might, catching it and redirecting the force downward into the street. Asphalt detonated, but the shockwave didn't reach All Might this time.
All Might turned sharply. "Who—"
Izuku didn't answer.
He struck All For One once—clean, compact, Atlas reinforcing the blow just enough to stagger him rather than obliterate him. Combo ticked up, but Izuku didn't chase it.
"Nezu sent me. Don't worry, All Might, because... I've got this. Rest now, old man."
All Might stiffened. "Nezu—?"
All For One laughed, low and amused, the sound distorted behind his mask.
"And who are you?" he asked. "Another successor? Another borrowed symbol?"
Izuku tilted his head slightly. "No."
He stepped forward, just enough for AFO to feel the pressure change. Observation Haki mapped every twitch, every micro-shift in balance, every quirk priming beneath the surface.
"I'm the contingency," Izuku continued. "The one he didn't plan for."
All For One's smile widened. "Ah. A hidden card. How delightful."
Izuku moved again.
Not a blitz. Not an explosion. Just constant pressure, denying space, denying rhythm. Every time AFO tried to angle toward All Might, Izuku was already there, redirecting, interrupting, forcing him to engage on unfavorable terms.
Behind him, All Might finally took a full breath without pain clawing at his chest.
"…He's faster than me," All Might murmured, half to himself.
All For One noticed.
His tone sharpened. "You're not here to win."
Izuku didn't deny it.
"I'm here," he said, "to make sure you don't."
The street cracked again as Atlas flared just enough to force AFO back a step. Dust billowed. Sirens wailed somewhere far off.
Hoopa hovered above the battlefield, rings spinning slowly, watching the exchange like a chessboard midgame.
"Ooo," it whispered. "The bad man is annoyed."
Izuku settled into his stance, breathing steadily.
Fwoom!
Izuku disappeared from everyone's vision.
I can handle it. 100% of Burden Breaker... I CAN ACTUALLY HANDLE IT!
BANG!
His fist slammed into All For One's face before the sound of his movement caught up. The impact folded the mask inward, shockwaves detonating outward in a tight ring that pulverized the street beneath them.
250% Combo.
All For One was hurled backward, boots skidding, cloak snapping violently as he barely managed to stabilize himself mid-slide.
Izuku didn't give him time.
He was already there.
Another strike. Then another. Atlas reinforced each blow just enough to transfer force cleanly, not wasteful, not theatrical. Combo climbed steadily as Izuku threaded between retaliatory blasts, slipping past compressed air cannons and warped gravity fields by fractions of a second.
All For One lashed out blindly, quirks stacking in rapid succession.
Too slow.
Izuku ducked under a sweeping shockwave, pivoted off the cratering asphalt, and drove a fist straight into AFO's jaw.
"Too slow, old man," Izuku muttered, already moving again.
Another hit connected to the ribs. Another to the side of the head. Each impact cracked armor, shattered reinforced plating, sent pressure rippling through the surrounding buildings.
All For One growled, stumbling, forced onto the defensive for the first time in years.
Izuku stayed close.
No pauses. No space. No rhythm to adapt to.
Every attempt to counter was met with a reposition. Every quirk activation was anticipated a fraction too early. Observation fed him intent before motion, letting him slip through attacks that should've erased him outright.
Atlas thrummed hotter with every exchange.
Sweat poured freely now, energy bleeding fast, but Izuku didn't slow. He couldn't.
This ends quickly, or it doesn't end at all.
Another blow landed, snapping AFO's head sideways. Concrete behind him exploded as his body was driven through it.
Izuku followed through the dust, already lining up the next strike, Combo ticking higher as he pushed the villain back step by step, denying him the chance to reset.
Above them, Hoopa hovered, rings spinning faster now, eyes gleaming.
100% Atlas
500% Combo.
Izuku didn't hold back.
BAAAANG!
The punch connected squarely.
There was no recoil.
No resistance.
All For One's body simply… failed.
The impact erased the space he occupied. The shockwave didn't just crater the street, it flattened it, tearing through Kamino Ward in a violent radial burst. The air itself seemed to shatter, clouds above dispersing violently as if punched apart from below.
What remained of All For One was flung backward as paste, armor and flesh atomized under force far beyond what regeneration or stacked quirks could compensate for.
There was no scream.
No last words.
Just absence.
Silence followed, heavy and absolute, broken only by the settling of debris and the distant wail of alarms.
Izuku landed at the center of the destruction, boots sinking slightly into cracked asphalt. Atlas finally disengaged in full, the hum beneath his skin fading as his legs buckled.
He dropped to one knee, then sat fully, breathing hard, sweat pouring freely as the drain hit all at once.
"…That's it," he muttered. "That's done."
Above him, Hoopa's rings slowed, their glow dimming as the pressure in the air finally eased.
"Home time?" Hoopa asked.
Izuku smiled faintly, still breathing hard. "Almost."
He pushed himself back to his feet and turned toward All Might, who was still standing where he'd been left, shoulders slumped slightly now that the fight was over. The man looked older up close. Smaller. Like the weight he'd been carrying had finally caught up to him.
"There's one last thing for me to do," Izuku said.
He raised a hand.
"Greater Healing Light."
Fwoom.
Warm light spilled out, not blinding, not explosive. It washed over All Might in steady waves, sinking into damaged muscle, scar tissue, and exhausted organs. The strain lines on his face softened. His breathing evened out. The pain that had been gnawing at him for years loosened its grip.
All Might gasped softly, then straightened in surprise. He pressed a hand to his chest, then laughed under his breath, stunned.
"…I feel," he started, then stopped, clearly at a loss for words. "I feel normal."
Izuku lowered his hand, the light fading as the last of his energy settled.
"Good," he said. "That's how it should be."
All Might looked at him, really looked this time. "Young man… who are you?"
Izuku shrugged slightly. "Just someone passing through, talk to the mouse about it."
He stepped back as Hoopa floated in beside him, already opening a ring behind them. The portal hummed softly, edges rippling.
"Now we're ready to go," Izuku said.
Hoopa nodded. "Trip complete."
Izuku took one last glance at Kamino Ward. The heroes were arriving. The injured were being treated. All Might standing tall again, alive and whole.
Then he stepped through.
The ring snapped shut, leaving behind a street full of questions, a healed Symbol of Peace, and a future that would now move forward without the shadow that had loomed over it for so long.
A/N: So we're finally done with that then, eh? Welp, u can get access to another 2 chapters on my pat-re0.... @Djini. For 7 dollars you'll get access to 15-18k words, the equivalent of 14-18 "Normal" chapters. I think that's fair, cheap even for some :) Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed.