A low voice drifted out from the black mist.
"Thirteen. A Hero who specializes in disaster rescue. As expected, your combat experience is half a step behind that of a regular Hero."
The children wore faces marked by shock and despair.
When Thirteen’s Black Hole maneuver warped through the mist and appeared behind its user—inflicting sudden injury—the kids who had trusted only the teachers fell into a panic.
"Iida! Run!"
At Sato’s shout, Iida clenched his teeth.
He had already been ordered by Thirteen to act, and although it was the obvious solution to the crisis, he simply did not want to do it.
It felt like abandoning his friends in their moment of peril.
The engine in Iida’s legs, which had stubbornly refused to move, finally roared to life.
Accelerating explosively, he sprinted straight for the entrance.
"Damn it!"
"The kids we missed when we scattered them... The only one we need to wait for is All Might."
The mist surged up in front of Iida, effectively blocking his path.
At this rate, a collision was inevitable.
No—given his unpredictable abilities, there was no telling where or how it might vanish.
"If you call the teachers, this side will be in trouble too."
Iida’s thoughts raced: "I’ve got everyone! The class! I’m responsible!"
His steel boots decelerated sharply, sparks flying from the friction.
But evading the mist seemed impossible.
Iida’s eyes widened in alarm.
What should he do? Could he possibly avoid it?
Impossible.
No matter what he tried, a collision with the enemy was unavoidable.
In that desperate moment, bombardment erupted from the sky.
A directed explosion streaked diagonally from behind Iida, scattering the mist that had barred his way.
Through the billowing smoke, Bakugo’s voice boomed:
"Die! You damn smog bastard!"
Iida looked back and saw Bakugo shouting furiously.
"What are you doing? Move, you rotten elitist bastard! Run! Don’t even look back!"
Snapping back to his senses, Iida pushed through the smoke and dashed for the front gate.
"Automatic door! Should I kick it down? Is it thin enough to break with a kick?"
Just as the black mist reappeared overhead, its polite tone replaced by angry shouts, it roared, "How rude. Glasses! Disappear!"
Out of nowhere, Uraraka burst from Thirteen’s side and seized a metal plate visible through the mist.
The mist, freed from gravity, floated upward into the air.
"I don’t know why, but if you’re wearing something like this, doesn’t that mean you have a body? Go! Iida-kun!"
Sero slapped tape onto the floating metal panel and hurled it away.
With any risk of injuring an ally eliminated, Bakugo’s explosive attack slammed into the enemy with several times its previous firepower.
Leaving the echoing booms behind him, Iida swung open the door and rushed outside.
Bright light welcomed him.
At that moment, Yaoyorozu stood behind Jiro and Kaminari and lobbed a flashbang.
As the pin dropped and the flashbang hovered in the air, she pulled the two closer then dove backward, shouting, "Close your eyes and cover your ears!"
Her own ears were already shielded by earplugs she’d crafted with her Quirk, though she didn’t have enough time to fashion any for them as well.
Flash and blast rocked the area.
In that split second, she conjured an automatic shotgun along with a magazine loaded with rubber rounds.
After the shockwave dissipated, Yaoyorozu rose with a steely gaze and pulled the trigger.
Most of the Villains had been neutralized by the unexpected flashbang.
Merciless violence rained down on foes who now resembled mere target dummies.
Even though they were rubber rounds, the automatic slug fire from the shotgun was absolutely terrifying.
In an instant, the Villains toppled one after another.
Jiro, initially impressed by how quickly the villains were subdued, then gasped in horror.
"What kind of brutal violence is this, Yaoyorozu! Your chest! Your chest!"
"Huh?"
The front of her outfit—designed with a slit to serve as a makeshift magazine—had been torn wide open across her chest.
Jiro shielded Kaminari’s eyes and shouted, "Don’t look, you pervert! Yaoyorozu, cover yourself first!"
"Ah. Right," she replied.
Only then did Yaoyorozu lower her gaze, when suddenly a Villain appeared behind Jiro and Kaminari.
"You damn brats! I’ll show you what happens when you mess with adults!"
A muscular Villain charged in, screaming. At that moment, Jiro had just plugged his earphones into the directional speakers attached to his shins—but he was far too close.
She hurled Kaminari toward him and cried, "Do something! You can at least shock him, can’t you?"
"Huh? Seriously? Idiot!"
Kaminari, who had inadvertently been flung against the enemy, instinctively activated his Quirk.
A surge of electricity jolted through him.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Ah. I’m strong, huh? You can all count on me!"
Striking a cool pose, he turned back toward them—only for Jiro to remark with a frosty tone, "What a lightweight..."
While some skirmishes were relatively contained, others were clearly in dire straits.
Aizawa fought his way through the mob and closed in on a Villain clinging to him.
"Twenty-three seconds, twenty seconds, twenty-four seconds, twenty seconds," he muttered.
"Tch."
"Seventeen seconds."
The Villain mumbled those meaningless numbers in a disdainful tone.
Unperturbed, Aizawa seized the weapon he had been wielding and lunged into the enemy’s grip, ramming his elbow into his midsection.
The Villain blocked the strike with a hand, catching Aizawa’s elbow, and commented, "It’s hard to tell with you darting around, but there are moments when your hair settles—after each action, the gap narrows."
Cracks spread from the villain’s five fingers, extending toward Aizawa’s elbow.
"And those intervals are getting shorter. Don’t overdo it, Eraser Head," the Villain continued.
Aizawa struck the man with his free hand and leaped backward.
"My elbow’s gone," he muttered.
He had taken down enough foes to make a dent, yet there were still too many, leaving him no room to breathe.
Without even a moment to inspect his shattered elbow, Aizawa knocked another charging Villain down and gasped for air.
A low, sinister voice reached his ears.
"Isn’t your Quirk ill-suited for a prolonged battle against a group? This isn’t the usual routine, is it? Your specialty is ambushes and short skirmishes, isn’t it?"
The Villain slowly rose, muttering to himself.
Not waiting for a reply, he continued, "And yet you charged in head-on to reassure the students? How admirable. But as for the Hero, I’m not the real one..."
Before Aizawa could muster a response, an unpleasant murmur emanated from behind him.
Suddenly, a hulking monster standing at his back bared its sharp, serrated teeth and reached out.
Its goggles flew off, and blood splattered.
The creature slammed Aizawa aside with overwhelming force, then sat atop him.
Crushed beneath that immense strength, Aizawa was rendered helpless.
The man with hands all over his body sneered down at him.
"You can erase Quirks. Impressive, but it means nothing in the face of overwhelming power. In the end, you're just Quirkless."
Aizawa attempted to counter by activating his Quirk, but the creature paid him no heed, snapping his arm like a fragile twig.
"Gah!"
"Like breaking a small branch... You’ve erased my Quirk cleanly. In other words, this is pure strength—All Might level, no less..."
As Aizawa desperately racked his brain while cornered, the monster seated itself on top of him.
Then it grabbed Aizawa’s head.
The tiny head, dwarfed by that enormous palm, was subjected to brutal violence in an instant.
Aizawa’s face slammed into the ground with such force that the impact cracked the floor and sent blood spraying.
Even as he clung to his fading consciousness, the monster, mercilessly, lifted his head once more.
Just as it was about to slam Aizawa’s head back onto the floor, a massive shockwave crashed over the enemy.
Everyone winced and looked up as explosive waves burst out in all directions, revealing a giant red demon.
Driven back by overwhelming force, the demon released Aizawa and glowered at the monster rolling across the ground.
"Yeah. Well done. That must have been exhilarating—breaking a Pro Hero like a toy, scattering weak, inexperienced kids, picking them off one by one. It must be great when everything goes exactly as planned… if only All Might had been there."
From those blood-red eyes flowed a blade-sharp, murderous intent, so vivid it seemed as if blood itself might spill forth.
Confronted by that torrent of unmistakable hostility, the man with hands all over his body muttered in disbelief,
"Hah? What’s that? Another Pro Hero? I’ve never seen him before."
"Sorry to disappoint—I’m not a Pro Hero. I’m a student, you undergrown brat."
"A student? Just a student? Hah. Are you really aiming to be a Hero? You look more like a Villain."
Kirishima replied in a low, sullen tone, "That’s exactly the kind of taunt only a loser like you would make. I decide how I live—not based on my looks."
Coldly, Kirishima then hoisted Aizawa onto his shoulder.
The moment his powerful legs kicked off the ground, he vanished from everyone’s sight.
No one was quick enough to react.
Before anyone realized it, he had reached the waterside and set Aizawa down in front of Midoriya and the others, who had been watching the battle.
"Sorry to burden you, kids. I’ll be blunt: just holding that black guy at bay is all I can manage right now. So can you protect Aizawa-sensei for me?"
Seeing the once-confident eyes now calm and steady, Midoriya swallowed hard.
It was the first time he had seen Kirishima so composed since eleven years ago.
He sensed it instinctively.
Right now, Kirishima was prepared to die.
Midoriya, forcing his cracked voice into shape, asked, "Is that all I can do?"
The question carried a multitude of emotions.
Frustration, fear, determination—all surged within those words, and Kirishima managed a faint smile.
If it had been the Midoriya of yesterday, he might have simply said, "Okay."
With genuine satisfaction for his own growth, Kirishima replied, "Yeah. For now, that’s our limit. I can only exert every ounce of strength to hold him down, and you can only protect Aizawa-sensei from the rest. But next time, things will be different."
At Kirishima’s parting smile, the man with hands all over his body sneered, "Ah. Is this your students’ hot-blooded friendship? How touching. But what now? There won’t be a next time for you. It's game over."
"Think whatever you want. But whenever I see guys like you, one thing always comes to mind—save those theatrics for after you've killed me. It just makes you sound cheap."
"Kill him! Nomu!"
With that shrill cry, Kirishima charged at the black monster.
The red demon and the black monster clashed.
Reaching the enemy at a speed beyond ordinary human perception, Kirishima abruptly decelerated.
Normally, he would have transitioned seamlessly into an attack, but the enemy’s physical prowess was on All Might’s level.
As the foe reacted by throwing a punch, Kirishima deftly sidestepped.
Locking eyes with his adversary, he unleashed his strongest, most confident strike.
The blow—potent enough to breach a fortress of steel—defied the bounds of space and time as it struck the monster’s head.
A massive boom erupted, sending a fierce shockwave in all directions.
Those present shielded their faces against the rushing cloud of dust.
Through narrowed eyes, they beheld the aftermath of the collision.
"Tch. So it still doesn’t work..."
Despite the sheer power of the strike, the monster—its head now exposed—simply tilted in indifference.
Kirishima clicked his tongue in resignation, as he had expected.
Then he immediately moved to evade the enemy’s counterattack.
His body blurred as he darted back toward the foe’s side.
The relentless, rapid exchange between the two monsters continued almost imperceptibly.
Kirishima dodged countless attacks while continually flanking and pressuring the enemy from behind, launching his own barrage.
The foe absorbed the onslaught with his body while relentlessly pursuing Kirishima.
Their deadly dance—one circling while the other chased—generated colossal shockwaves that rippled through the plaza.
Pushing his aerial control to its limit to deflect incoming strikes, Kirishima mused, "Truly, his technique is wild—raw, almost primitive. In [Demon Form], I can handle him."
Thinking ahead to the inevitable bloodbath with this enemy, Kirishima knew one thing was essential to avoid defeat.
In [Demon Form], his physical prowess had to be sufficient to recognize, block, and evade the foe’s attacks.
If the disparity in raw strength were insurmountable, then no amount of technique would matter.
But if he could maintain even the bare minimum of physical durability, he was determined not to lose.
It didn’t matter if his power was lower or his speed slower.
It didn’t matter if his reach was shorter or his defense weaker.
Even accepting all those disadvantages, Kirishima simply had to fight smarter.
It wasn’t about whether one hit was dangerous or if he was forced into a preemptive strike—he just had to land blows without taking any in return.
"What is this! Why did that kind of monster appear? You said it was All Might level! Then why can’t you kill it?!"
As the clash dragged on, the man with hands all over his body vented his frustration.
At that moment, the air warped and a black mist materialized.
"Shigaraki Tomura."
"Kurogiri. Was Thirteen dealt with?"
Responding to the call from Kurogiri, Shigaraki’s voice softened slightly as he asked.
"I rendered them immobile, but a few students escaped our scattering—one got away."
"Hah? Haah. Kurogiri, if you weren’t a Warp Gate, I’d have torn you to pieces..."
He replied in an irritated tone.
Watching the monstrous brawl unfold before him, he raised both hands and muttered, "No matter what, against several dozen Pro Heroes we can’t keep up. We're done for. Ah, it's game over this time. Shall we retreat?"
Nearby, Midoriya’s group—those gathered around Aizawa and listening to the enemy—asked in confusion, "Retreat? Did he just say retreat?"
"That’s what I heard," came the reply.
Shou furrowed his brow deeply.
Something about this felt off.
After all this chaos, were they really just going to pull back?
Tsuyu, equally uneasy, said in a tense voice, "I have a bad feeling about this, Midoriya."
"Yeah. After causing all this chaos, to simply retreat... If they pull back now, U.A.'s sense of crisis will only worsen."
Even as he replied, Midoriya never took his eyes off Shigaraki.
He had learned from countless battles with Kirishima and Bakugo that if you let your guard down, you’ll perish without a sound.
"But before that—before everything falls apart—as the Symbol of Peace, at least preserve a shred of your pride!"
At Shigaraki’s muttered words, the three exchanged disapproving glances.
In an instant, the enemy closed the distance and reached out toward Tsuyu.
Just as the lethal hand—capable of disintegrating a person—was about to cover Tsuyu’s face, Midoriya slammed it away.
Instinctively, the enemy then reached out with his concealed hand toward Midoriya’s wrist.
Midoriya gritted his teeth, ready to unleash One For All, when a shard of stone streaked in from the fray and struck Shigaraki’s flank.
"Ghk! You little bastard!"
Even amidst the fierce brawl, it turned out that the stone—likely kicked loose by Kirishima—had made its mark.
The result of that seemingly insignificant movement was anything but trivial.
Clutching his flank, Shigaraki rolled away, and Kirishima suffered a heavy blow.
The monster that had been tailing Kirishima finally caught up and delivered a full-force punch.
Seeing the fist hurtling straight for his face, Kirishima lowered his stance.
At the moment his center of gravity broadened and steadied to endure the monstrous impact, he thrust his forearm outward from within.
The fist—previously barreling toward his head as if it would shatter it—was deflected as if it were nothing.
Seizing the opening without hesitation, Kirishima transformed the hand at his waist into a makeshift spear and pierced the monster’s heart.
It was a picture-perfect counter—a one-chance dive flowing seamlessly into a clinch.
For a moment, both monsters froze in place.
Midoriya’s face hardened at the sight. He had feared it, but Kirishima had finally killed someone.
Whether to feel relief that the Villain was neutralized or sorrow for his friend’s plight was a complicated mix of emotions.
Then, as if on cue, the enemy moved.
Even with his heart pierced, the creature clutched Kirishima’s shoulder.
It then attempted a headbutt.
Unable to free his hand from the enemy’s grip, Kirishima glared at the razor-edged beak advancing toward his face and sneered, "Damn it. My life was never meant to be easy."
A deafening roar erupted from the tips of his fingers—unilateral and absolute.
From the opposite side, another boom tore through the air with an ominous force.
The war—smiling wickedly at the sight of blood and flesh—mercilessly advanced to its next phase.
The full-scale bloodbath had begun.
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