Iterus.
The eternal name remained unbroken.
The immortal shield had, time and again, brilliantly guarded Kirishima from the monster’s vicious strikes—each crushing blow from its beak slamming into his forehead with unspeakable force.
Yet, the shock had not spared his mind.
Each booming impact reverberated through his aching head as he struggled to think.
"Ah… I'm done for. Damn bastard—you just won't let up, do you?"
While he had never suffered attacks of this magnitude in his current life, the sensation was all too familiar from his past one. Every time he had allowed even a slightly careless strike to connect, the piercing pain that followed was inescapable.
After so long without this searing agony, Kirishima clenched his teeth hard.
The monster’s arm, wrapped around his shoulder, was unyielding.
In this brutal contest of raw strength, it was painfully obvious that Kirishima—overpowered and pinned—had little chance of wriggling free.
And at this distance, landing a decisive blow was nearly impossible.
This was the same brute who had barely flinched even when struck with his entire weight.
An assault launched from such an unsteady, pinned position was doomed to fail.
He was clinging to hardened resolve—strengthened by a material structure once hailed as the harbinger of a new age—yet he found himself trapped in a situation devoid of escape.
There was no path forward—only despair.
"Damn it."
Just as another furious attack hurtled toward him, Kirishima scoffed at the encroaching crisis, refusing to acknowledge it.
He was not merely a man; he was a conqueror who never retreated, a devil who refused to kneel, the undisputed master of an unassailable throne.
There was neither fear nor despair in his heart.
He would fight to the very end.
Even if his arm were severed, he would rely on his legs; if his legs were cut, he would crawl and, if necessary, fight tooth and nail.
Until his final breath was extinguished beneath the weight of his enemies, he would scorch his soul in order to vanquish them.
In that critical moment, something shifted within Kirishima.
The looming stench of imminent death stirred within him every lesson he had ever learned, each skill writhing violently into renewed purpose.
Martial arts was not merely about defense—it was about striking down one's foes.
Across lifetimes, his accumulated experience and honed techniques shattered into fragments, only to be reassembled into a single, formidable force that validated his very existence.
"Kraaaah!"
"Hah. How pathetic. You’re trying for one last, feeble struggle? As if that even matters," sneered a voice.
"Kirishima..."
At the sound of Kirishima’s defiant roar, Shigaraki mocked him while Midoriya let out a soft groan.
Despite warnings to stand aside, Midoriya could not watch his friend perish, and he activated One For All with desperate resolve.
Lightning danced across his entire body, etching scar-like lines into his skin.
In that split second, Kirishima pivoted, turning his body sideways as a fierce red aura enveloped him.
Though the monster was undeniably stronger than him in raw power, it could not endure leg strength that eclipsed its arm strength threefold—the grip on Kirishima faltered.
Seizing the opportunity, Kirishima drove his elbow forcefully into the monster’s forearm.
The pointed strike split flesh, leaving a jagged gash in its hide.
In a fluid motion, he spun and, with another devastating elbow, shattered the creature’s beak from the side.
Having absorbed two rapid blows, the beast staggered backward—and without missing a beat, Kirishima lunged in once more.
"In a clinch, controlling the inside is always the advantage," he thought, echoing advice once given by Samat.
True to that wisdom, he swiftly maneuvered into the monster’s internal space, gripping the back of its head and unsettling its balance.
The creature, which had been straining to resist a pull to the right, found itself helpless as Kirishima yanked it forcefully to the left.
With its body lurching, Kirishima’s horned knee slammed into the monster’s torso with ruthless precision.
Time and again, he hammered his knee into the reeling body, each blow shaking the creature’s core relentlessly.
Witnessing the sudden turn in the clash, Shigaraki ground his teeth and muttered,
"What the hell—is this some kind of manga? You scream like you’re dying, and suddenly you get stronger?"
Perhaps spurred on by that piercing cry, the monster abruptly kicked off the ground, forcing a gap between itself and Kirishima.
This time, however, Kirishima released his grip on the monster’s arm.
No matter how much he’d disrupted its balance, if the creature sought to create distance with raw power alone, there was little he could do but let go.
Dragging it along would only devolve the conflict into a ground skirmish that he could not win, so he resolved to let it be.
Instead, he launched himself at the monster’s rapidly healing front, his fist striking mercilessly at its snarling, tooth-bared face.
Reeling from the impact, the creature took two more faltering steps back. In response, Kirishima evaded a wild arm swing and delivered a low kick straight to its ankle.
As the beast’s balance collapsed—one knee buckling and its body pitching forward—Kirishima, already repositioned, drove a fierce front kick into its face.
"Ghk… damn this bastard," he growled through gritted teeth.
After landing his attack with clean precision, he retreated slightly.
The monster, now on one knee and turned sideways, flung a desperate, haphazard punch that collided with Kirishima’s torso at the same time his kick landed.
The brutal contact crushed his ribs and tore at his lungs, forcing him to cough up blood and grimace in pain.
"It didn’t shatter, but under these conditions it might as well be meaningless," he thought bitterly.
The sheer physical absurdity of the blow was evident. The bones, reinforced by the Iterus structure, had withstood the unthinkable without breaking—even against the embodiment of pure mayhem—but had failed in their essential duty of shielding his lungs.
"At least it wasn’t the heart," he murmured with dark humor.
Kirishima couldn’t help but grin as he glanced at the monster—its gaping wound already closing—amid the chaos of fiercely contested battle, the desperate struggle to protect his allies, and his own battered state.
What a magnificent battlefield this was.
Though there were no tens of thousands of spectators, none of that mattered—only the stark reality remained: I am here, and the enemy is here.
The ingredients for a truly blood-boiling clash were already in place.
With a booming laugh, he charged at the monster once again.
The relentless battle resumed—a cacophony of explosive impacts and reverberating shockwaves that shook the very air.
"Hah. This is nothing but failure—a complete failure. Kurogiri, fall back. If we keep this up, we might eventually bring down that insane beast, but we simply don't have time to dawdle!"
Even as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth in the heat of combat against the formidable Nomu, Shigaraki clicked his tongue, resolved to retreat.
With the student sent off to call for backup already lost, a strict time limit was imposed.
Most of that precious time had been squandered battling the monster, and it appeared unlikely that they could subdue it in the near term.
Moreover, neither Shigaraki nor Kurogiri were on par to enter the fray—any direct intervention in a conflict where each strike could collapse a building would only result in them being torn apart.
Just as Kurogiri began to channel his power to form a Warp Gate, the colossal main gate of the USJ studio exploded outward with a deafening roar.
All eyes turned as, through swirling dust, All Might strode forward with a grim, determined expression.
"It’s over now. I’m here," he announced.
"All Might!"
"All... Might..."
As children cheered and Midoriya gazed in awe at the Symbol of Peace, Kirishima used this brief lull in battle to step back.
Coughing violently and spitting blood with every heaving breath, he managed a bitter smile.
"Is this the difference forged by a lifetime of battle? The weight of history is real," he murmured.
Even Kirishima felt a surge of relief amidst the void left by the halted combat—a relief that must have been even more profound for the other young heroes.
Yet, Shigaraki, too, welcomed All Might’s arrival with a mixture of anticipation and relief.
"Ah. Continue," he said.
All Might advanced slowly. "I had a bad feeling—I ignored the principal’s orders and came anyway. On my way here, I ran into Iida and got a rough account of what happened."
He gritted his teeth as the memory of Iida’s desperate explanation flashed before him—the tearful faces of Uraraka and Ashido, the sight of Thirteen collapsed with a gaping wound, and Aizawa bleeding.
"I’m furious with myself! How terrified the children must have been—how hard the underclassmen fought! And that is exactly why I must stand tall and say it!"
"It’s all right now! I’m here!"
Even as he tore the tie from around his neck, All Might’s presence was overwhelming.
"He isn’t smiling," observed Midoriya, shocked at this rarely-seen, wrathful side of the eternal symbol of peace.
Unperturbed by Midoriya’s astonishment, Shigaraki sneered, "I’ve been waiting, Hero. Trash of society."
Unlike their diminutive foe, the other villains looked dazed and outmatched.
"That’s All Might..." whispered one.
"I’ve never actually seen him face-to-face," murmured another.
"His presence... it's staggering," added a third.
"You idiot! Don’t back off! Kill him and we—" Before he could finish, the impassioned villain collapsed.
Almost simultaneously, the surrounding villains followed suit, falling one after the other.
Quietly, Shigaraki glanced at Aizawa’s broken elbow and muttered, "Sorry, Aizawa."
With eyes blazing as he glared at the villains in front of the children, he suddenly kicked the ground with all his might.
Meanwhile, Kirishima—coughing up blood as he struggled to maintain his faltering Demon Form—was lifted and set before Midoriya and the others by All Might himself.
"Kirishima, did you protect the children? Good work. Leave the rest to me now," All Might said, expressing his gratitude as Kirishima’s face finally returned to normal.
Then turning to Midoriya’s group, he commanded, "Everyone, head for the entrance. Look after Aizawa—he’s unconscious. Kirishima is still standing, but he could collapse at any moment. Get out of here, now!"
"Y-yes!"
At that moment, Shigaraki cupped his face with one hand and collected a fallen hand as he muttered, "No… no. No. I’m sorry, Father."
Muttering incoherent words as if on the brink of madness, he pressed his hand against his face before his tone finally steadied, "I got hit while being rescued. Hahaha. State-sanctioned violence—just as expected, he’s fast. Too fast for me to follow with my eyes. But he isn’t as fast as I had imagined; at best, he’s as quick as that devilish bastard, maybe a bit faster. So it was true after all… the rumors that he’d weakened."
His bloodshot eyes, visible through the gaps between his hanging fingers, gleamed with malice and anticipation.
A chill ran down Midoriya’s spine at the sight.
Gritting his teeth, he shouted, "All Might! No! That brainless villain—Kirishima hit him, and the shockwave was enormous, yet he didn’t even flinch! He’s definitely—"
"Midoriya! It’s fine!" All Might interrupted, flashing a sideways “V” with his hand in reassurance.
Without hesitation, he charged at the monster and unleashed a cross-shaped chop.
"Carolina Smash!"
The impact burst through the creature, sending a pillar of water soaring upward as the shockwave struck the surface.
Yet the monster showed no visible damage, instead attempting to envelop All Might in a crushing embrace.
All Might dodged its grasp and struck its stomach with tremendous force—but again, the attack yielded no effect.
"It really just won’t listen!"
"It’s not listening because it’s built to absorb shock. If you want to damage a Nomu, you must tear its flesh apart—just like that devilish bastard did. Whether or not you allow it to do so is another matter," explained Shigaraki with a mix of derision and admiration.
Expressing his thanks for the unsolicited advice, All Might circled behind the Nomu.
"Thanks for the explanation—I guess that makes it easier!"
Grabbing the creature around its waist, he hurled it backward.
A blast of sound more tremendous than any before tore through the air, sending clouds of dust skyward.
Watching that display, Kirishima ground his teeth and, summoning every ounce of strength, transformed once again into his demonic form.
Though his Demon Form—which should have taken only ten seconds to fully manifest—stuttered and stalled, he managed to shout to Midoriya and the others, "Head to the entrance, just as All Might said! There are others waiting over there—get out of here now!"
"Aren’t you coming too, Kirishima? In that condition you won’t be much help. Or… maybe All Might actually needs you?"
At Sho’s words, filled with genuine trust, Kirishima offered a bitter smile.
While it was humbling to be the recipient of such faith, it did not render All Might invincible. He was clearly weakened, and these villains were perfectly capable of landing a hit on him.
"I'm only sticking around for contingency’s sake. Now go!"
Midoriya’s heart sank at Kirishima’s words. Even if the villains had devised a plan to kill All Might, they wouldn’t be of help in their current state. Still, if anyone could be an asset in an emergency, it was Kirishima—despite his battered condition.
Yet, a gnawing premonition gripped his every step.
He recalled the news broadcast on the subway that morning—live updates of All Might’s heroic exploits. Even today, All Might had subdued a villain.
"I watch hero news on my commute every day. When Thirteen-sensei lifted three fingers saying All Might wasn’t present, that was a clear sign of his limits. It meant he’d overexerted himself."
Peering through swirling dust that blanketed everything like volcanic ash, Midoriya bit his lip in anxious thought.
He remembered the words All Might had once spoken while revealing a horrifying scar by lifting his shirt:
"This wound is from an enemy ambush five years ago. Half my respiratory system was destroyed, and my stomach was removed. Repeated surgeries have left me worn down. My limit now is probably around three hours a day."
Then, with a gravitas that only a true hero could muster, he declared,
"The Symbol of Peace, the one who rescues by way of a smile, must never yield to evil. My smile is the mask I wear to hide the burden of being a hero—and to fool the fear within."
Midoriya felt tears welling up inside him.
After all his struggle—after achieving One For All and making it into U.A.—today, all he managed was to help Sho dispatch a few low-level villains.
He'd been shielded by Kirishima—who fought on while coughing up blood—and now he was protected by All Might.
And yet, in this dire moment, he had to leave All Might behind.
"I alone know All Might’s secret… and the coming crisis!"
As Midoriya hesitated, caught between conflicting emotions while looking toward All Might, the dust began to settle.
What emerged was a sight that robbed him of breath.
The upper half of the Nomu—once pinned to the ground by its weight—was now surging upward from beneath All Might’s waist through a sinister black Warp Gate carved in the earth.
In that bald, unnatural posture, it had sunk its claws deep into All Might’s side.
"You thought you could pin me to the concrete and stop my movement? I’m not about to let you succeed. A Nomu’s power matches yours!" it taunted, grinning as it addressed Kurogiri, "Heh. Nice work, Kurogiri. An unexpected opportunity has presented itself."
As Kurogiri’s eyes glinted with anticipation at those words, the monster’s claws burrowed even deeper into All Might’s flank.
"Ah... that hurts," All Might grunted, twisting his body in a futile attempt to shake off the relentless grip. Yet the monster’s arm remained locked in place.
"Incredible power," Shigaraki murmured, scratching his neck as he observed the scene.
"Kurogiri," he said quietly.
"I’d rather not have blood and guts all over me, but if it’s from someone of your caliber, I’ll take it gladly. The Nomu’s job is to restrain someone as elusive as you, and mine is to close the gate and tear you apart once you’re broken," replied Kurogiri, his tone laced with cold satisfaction.
With a subtle yet decisive motion, Kurogiri manipulated the warp gate that had partially engulfed All Might.
The dark portal began to shrink ominously, as if heralding impending destruction.
At that juncture, Kirishima’s Demon Form—once a process that took barely ten seconds—finally reached its completion after a series of hesitant, lagging transformations.
Drawing a deep, ragged breath through lungs diminished by blood, Kirishima summoned every ounce of his strength and stomped the ground with unyielding force.
The red demon, burning with life and determination, reentered the battlefield.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register