Smoke swirled through the ruins of the U.S.J.

  All Might stood at the center of it, a silhouette backlit by filtered sunlight and drifting ash. Midoriya stared, panting, bones shattered, body bruised, barely holding himself up on one elbow. He could feel the heat coming off All Might, the steam...

  All Might glanced back toward him with a tired smile.

  “I’ve really gotten weaker,” he said, voice low and light, like he was just chatting with an old friend. “In my prime, five punches would’ve done it.”

  He turned slowly back to the villains, still smiling. “But I had to hit him three hundred times.”

  Midoriya felt his stomach twist. That wasn’t bravado. That was a countdown. A confession. The steam wasn’t dust. It was the sign that All Might was out of time.

  Shigaraki trembled. His hand twitched toward his neck, fingers raking at the crusty skin.

  “Did... Did All Might cheat?” he hissed.

  Kurogiri floated behind him, voice calm and deliberate. “Tomura Shigaraki. Calm down. Look at him.”

  Shigaraki paused. Kurogiri leaned in closer.

  “Nomu’s attacks clearly did damage. He’s barely standing. And the students, look. They’re terrified. The other villains are waking. We still have time to finish him before backup arrives.”

  Shigaraki stopped scratching. His hand dropped.

  “Yeah... yeah. That’s right.” He stepped forward slowly, a twisted grin growing. “We have the final boss cornered.” They both charged.

  Behind him, Kirishima and Bakugo braced themselves. Todoroki crouched low, frost trailing from his fingers. Midoriya could feel it, all of them readying for a last stand. But he also knew what they didn’t.

  All Might couldn’t move.

  Midoriya surged forward before he could think, ignoring the pain, forcing One for All into his legs. The moment he pushed off, he heard bones snap. But it didn’t matter.

  He reached them instantly, arm cocked, aiming for Kurogiri’s collar.

  “Don’t get close to All Might!” he shouted.

  But just as he swung, another hand appeared through a portal. Shigaraki. Fingertips inches from his face.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  A gunshot cracked the air.

  Shigaraki yelped and yanked his hand back, blood spurting from his palm. Another shot rang out. Then another. Then three more.

  Midoriya collapsed, skidding across the ground.

  From behind, Snipe’s voice rang out: “Move, move! Target’s hit go, go!”

  Teachers and pro heroes surged into the scene. Kurogiri panicked, opening a wide portal, dragging Shigaraki through.

  They vanished.

  Midoriya gasped, head spinning. He looked up just as the steam around All Might faded enough to reveal the truth. He was thinner. Smaller. The transformation was beginning to fail.

  All Might looked at him and smiled softly.

  “Thank you, young man. Those few seconds you bought... they saved my life.”

  Kirishima sprinted toward him. “Midoriya!”

  But he didn’t reach him.

  Robinn blurred past.

  No hesitation. No words. Just a streak of movement and wild urgency in her face. Her eyes scanned everything Midoriya barely registered, she was aiming for the epicenter.

  “Robinn...?!” Kirishima called after her.

  A massive concrete wall slammed down between them.

  Cementoss glared at the students. “Everyone to the front gate. Now. You’ve done enough.”

  On the other side, Robinn sprinted across cracked concrete, vaulting debris, closing the distance.

  All Might had fallen to one knee.

  He didn’t look up.

  She skidded to a stop in front of him, arms half-raised, not quite a hug, not quite restraint. Her mouth opened but All Might cut her off, voice hoarse but sharp.

  “Not now.”

  She froze.

  Then, slowly, lowered her arms. Silent. But her face didn’t show shock. Just hurt. And something else, something older. Like this moment had happened in her mind before.

  Midoriya, still watching from the rubble, felt his blood run cold. He wasn’t the only one who knew anymore, but...

  She already knew.

  League of Villains Hideout

  Shigaraki crashed into the room, groaning, bloodied, screeching about Nomu.

  “He was supposed to win! We were supposed to kill him! And he... he... he’s still breathing! It’s not fair!”

  Kurogiri floated behind him, tattered, voice shaky. “We couldn’t retrieve Nomu. He’s... lost.”

  A monitor flickered on. Static. Then a cold voice.

  “You weren’t wrong. Just... premature.”

  Another voice joined. Calm, but colder. “Where is Nomu?”

  Kurogiri bowed his head. “Captured.”

  Silence.

  U.S.J. Front Gate

  Class 1-A regrouped. A few injuries. Mostly shock. Only Midoriya had serious damage. He was loaded onto a stretcher, groggy, mumbling All Might’s name.

  Tsuyu turned to the detective nearby, Naomasa Tsukauchi.

  “What about the others?”

  Naomasa offered a tight smile. “Critical... but stable. They’ll pull through.”

  A voice crackled over a nearby radio. “We’ve apprehended a suspect, 400 meters south. Big, black, muscular. Might be the one they called ‘Nomu.’”

  Hospital – Infirmary Wing

  Tsukauchi entered quietly.

  All Might lay on a hospital bed, bandaged and breathing shallow. Still in his true form, gaunt, skeletal. The image of power drained.

  Beside him sat Robinn.

  Curled in a plastic chair, her body slack, arms wrapped around her legs. Her face was pale, but she wasn’t crying. Just watching. Guarding.

  Tsukauchi didn’t speak. Just nodded to her. She nodded back.

  He stepped closer. “Thirteen’s stable. Aizawa too. Barely.”

  All Might opened one eye. “The kids?”

  Naomasa smiled faintly. “They’re all fine minus Midoriya.”

  All Might turned his head. Slowly. To Robinn.

  His voice rasped.

  “Class 1-A... will be legends.”