The White Whale Incident did not fade.
If anything, it became heavier.
What began as a breaking news alert soon transformed into a global fixation. Every screen, every channel, every whispered conversation carried the same name. The White Whale. A creature so massive it blotted out the sky above New York City. A being that appeared in broad daylight and rewrote the meaning of catastrophe.
Entire districts vanished.
Not destroyed. Not reduced to rubble. Simply gone.
Millions of people disappeared without leaving behind bodies, debris, or even echoes of their screams. Emergency lines went dead mid call. Streets that once pulsed with life were now frozen in unnatural stillness, wrapped in a pale mist that swallowed all meaning.
And memory itself had begun to rot.
Captain Celebrity, the United States' former number one hero, was officially listed as missing and presumed dead. News outlets played the same recording over and over again. A man flying toward the creature with confidence etched into his posture. A roar that shattered the air. Then panic. Then madness. Then the fall.
People remembered that someone had been there.
They remembered that a hero existed.
But his voice, his personality, his achievements, even the feelings people once had toward him had faded into something hollow and incomplete. Only archived footage and digital records proved that he had ever existed at all.
Everyone understood the truth even if they could not fully articulate it.
This was the work of the White Whale.
...
In Japan, evening light filtered through tall windows into a private office filled with quiet heat.
Enji Todoroki stood motionless before a mounted television, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the floor. The screen reflected in his narrowed eyes as a news anchor spoke with measured urgency.
"We have received news that United States has officially announced an international subjugation operation against the unidentified calamity class entity known as the White Whale. The operation will be led by the Worlds Symbol of Peace, All Might, alongside America's number two hero, Stars and Stripes. The mission is scheduled to begin in forty eight hours."
The camera shifted to still images of the creature. Satellite photos. Emergency footage. A white mass hovering over a city that no longer existed in any meaningful way.
Enji's flames flickered along his forearms, low and restrained, but present.
"All Might will serve as the central force of the operation," the anchor continued. "Officials state that this may be the most dangerous mission ever attempted in the modern era of hero society."
The television went dark.
The sound of the power shutting off echoed sharply in the quiet room.
Enji's hand clenched slowly into a fist. Heat surged outward as his flames flared brighter, licking higher along his arm. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as his breathing deepened.
"All Might," he muttered.
The name carried weight. Frustration. Resentment.
For decades, Enji Todoroki had chased that name like a curse carved into his destiny. He had devoted his life to surpassing the Symbol of Peace. He had trained relentlessly, sacrificed relentlessly, hardened himself against everything soft or fragile.
And still, the world looked past him.
Another disaster. Another turning point in history. And once again, it was All Might who stood at the center.
The distance between them felt wider than ever.
Enji turned away from the dark screen and approached the window. Below him, the city lights burned bright against the encroaching night. People moved through their lives unaware of how close annihilation truly was.
His reflection stared back at him through the glass. The number two hero. Forever second.
His flames pulsed, responding to the storm of thoughts in his mind.
If that creature appeared here, he would not wait to be summoned. He would not stand aside while another man carried the weight of the world alone. He would not allow history to remember only one name.
This was more than recognition. This was proof.
Proof that he was not lesser. Proof that he deserved to stand at the top.
"I will join the subjugation," Enji said aloud, his voice steady and resolute. "And I will be the one to kill it."
"Then I will surpass All Might."
The flames around him surged in response, roaring softly as if answering his declaration.
...
Across the ocean, the United States was already deep in preparation.
A vast operations center hummed with activity. Analysts poured over data streams. Military officers argued over projections. Heroes stood in clusters, checking equipment and memorizing flight paths.
At the center of it all stood All Might.
His presence commanded attention. Conversations softened when he passed. Eyes followed him instinctively.
Walking beside him was Reinhard. The child who will kill the white whale.
The boy moved with quiet composure, his fiery red hair catching the overhead lights as his azure eyes absorbed every detail. He listened more than he spoke. Watched more than he reacted. Yet beneath his calm surface lay a weight far heavier than any burden the others carried.
They stopped before a reinforced conference room.
Inside stood Stars and Stripes.
America's number two hero faced them with her arms crossed, posture firm and disciplined. Her presence radiated confidence, but Reinhard noticed the subtle cracks beneath the surface. The tension in her shoulders. The fatigue hidden behind her steady gaze.
"So this is the kid," she said, her tone casual but sharp, "All Might has been praising nonstop."
All Might laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, well. I might have spoken a bit too much."
Reinhard straightened automatically.
Stars and Stripes stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. She studied him not as a child, but as a weapon, a shield, and a last hope all at once.
Then her expression shifted.
She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.
"If what Sir Nighteye said is true," she said quietly, "then the fate of this mission may rest on you."
Reinhard met her gaze without flinching.
"You have to kill it," she continued. "Not contain it. Not delay it. Kill it. For the people who vanished. For the ones we could not save."
Her grip tightened slightly.
"I am counting on you."
"I will do it," Reinhard replied. "It is my responsibility."
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she smiled, small and restrained, a smile born from grief rather than relief.
"Good," she said softly.
She turned and walked away, her steps measured and deliberate.
Reinhard watched her leave, a quiet ache settling in his chest. He could feel it clearly. Loss. The kind that never truly healed.
All Might placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I know you will do it," he said.
Reinhard nodded, but his eyes lingered on the empty doorway long after Stars and Stripes disappeared from view.
...
Two days remained.
Across the world, heroes prepared in silence. Endeavor burned with ambition and fury. Stars and Stripes carried sorrow behind unbreakable resolve. All Might once again stood as humanity's shield.
And Reinhard stood at the crossroads of two worlds.
In his mind echoed an old memory. A quiet room. Candlelight. A gentle voice reading a story about a great white beast that erased people from existence. A frightened child clinging to his grandmother's sleeve.
The monster from that story had crossed worlds.
And this time, Reinhard would not run.
The storm was coming.
And when it arrived, the world would remember it.
A/N: Happy New Years!