James groaned out and slammed his head onto the door.

"What kind of diner isn't open twenty four hours?" He complained.

Drake sighed and crossed his arms. He sat himself on the stone wall between the boardwalk and the sand of the beach. The sun was beginning to rise over the calm ocean with the waves sparkling under the dying stars. They had been at it since almost midnight, and there was not a whisper of where Moxie would have been. Granted, James only really knew of one or two places Moxie would have gone, so he had just been perusing the streets and neighboring blocks until he would somehow find the girl.

The Alaskan Dragon had no idea why he had agreed to this. He had flown James around most of Santa Monica and Northern Los Angeles the entire night. While he appreciated the chance at practicing carrying someone over many miles at high speed, he would rather it not be that annoying and stuck-up bully from Florida. he turned and cringed when he saw the boy screaming at the door for the unlit and abandoned diner. James kicked the frame of the door, only for the boy to cry out when he hurt his toe on the impact. He hopped around on one leg and clutched his foot while shouting curses out to the heavens.

Drake hid his face in his palm and closed his eyes. The festival would start at noon, and he would need to go to sleep in the next fifteen minutes in order to have enough energy. He swung his legs over the edge of the stone basin and muddled over towards James.

"...And this place sucks, anyway," James said. "The chili dog was too overpriced, and the waitress smells like garlic!"

"You," Drake said.

James turned around and sneered. "What is it, Alaskan Dragon?"

Drake turned his hand into a claw and pointed a dangerously sharp nail right at James' throat. "I must recieve at least six hours and twenty seven minutes for optimal energy for the school festival. I've had a long day. So it is time for us to go."

"But we haven't found Moxie yet," James shouted and balled up his fist and shook it. "She'll miss the festival if she doesn't come back."

"So?"

"So? So?" James said. "That will mess up her entire future! If she doesn't get on the radar now, she won't catch the agencies attention ever again."

"So what?"

"Stop saying that," James blushed and took a step back from the piercing dark gold eyes of his classmate. "It matters a lot for her career. And if I'm the one that ended that shit because of what I said...it would suck. It really would."

A car rumbled behind and crawled towards the intersection the both stood. The brakes squeaked when the car came to a halt by the streetlamp. Neither paid any mind as Drake examined James. The boy was surprisingly sheepish and vulnerable looking as he slumped his shoulders and stared down at his checkered Vans sneakers. This was part of the reason that Drake decided to go on the late night run with James to begin with. The boy seemed like someone who very rarely asked for help, and seeing him in such a state made Drake want to go out of his way to help.

But only this one time.

"You did your best," Drake said. "But now we must go and get rest. We both have to be at our best tomorrow."

James huffed and rubbed away some sweat from the tips of his styled obsidian hair. "I guess you're right. I just wish there was a way to make up for it."

Drake shrugged. "Play a game or something."

James' heterochromic eyes widened in disbelief. "Huh? A game?"

"Chess. Risk. Clue. You know. A game."

James stared back at the man in silence for a few moments. His mind as blank as the whiteboard in homeroom.

"Is...is that how you normally deal with girls?"

"it's how I deal with everyone," Drake said.

"Oh, I get it," James said. "You bore them to death and then you eat them."

Before Drake could get a word in, the car behind them came to life with the door opening. Out of the sleek black sedan exited Anton. AS disheveled and tired as the green boy was, he bounded out of the car with a certain resolve like he had just heard about an important mission. When he closed the door, the car skid away and raced down the street like a runaway barrel. Without the sound of the engine, the street was now silent except for the three students and the waves crashing on the beach.

"Oi, Kermit The Frog," James nodded his head and beckoned Anton over. "What were you doing in that car?"

Anton drug his feet over and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I had to get something from the drugstore. Allergies."

Drake hummed. "I thought Pathogen would stop you from getting sick."

Anton blinked and wandered his gaze away from the other two. At second glance, James noticed the boy looked a little shade of green than usual. It was aslo strange that the button down shirt he had seemed torn in a couple of places. Not only that, but there was a small pinprick on his skin as if he were punctured by a dart of some kind. Whoever he was with seemed to have roughed him up.

"Oh, well sometimes he does a bad job," Anton said. "He's really lazy."

"But then why are you here?" James said.

"Uh...well...I put in the wrong address and...I have no more money to get back to school. Yup, that's right," Anton spat out. "Just getting something from the drugstore and putting in the wrong address. Nothing else."

Despite his flighty gaze and obviously bad lie, James rolled his eyes and dismissed the whole thing. "Whatever. I don't care. I have bigger fish to fry."

"But what are you two doing out here?" Anton switched his attention between the two of them. "It's almost sunrise."

Drake remained silent and jabbed his thumb towards James. They both looked over at him while he crossed his arms and sighed. His back leaned onto the door of the closed diner before he collected his thoughts.

"I messed up," James said. "I said something I shouldn't have said. And I said it to someone that's actually been decent to me and didn't deserve it. So...I'm trying to find her and apologize."

"Wow," Anton said. "I didn't think you knew what that word meant."

"Well, I do," James growled. "I just don't do it because I'm usually right about most everything," he said before his face fell from an expression of exasperation to one of mroe sobriety. "But...I'm not perfect. And I guess to be the best hero of all time, you gotta iron out some wrinkles. I'm just glad my wrinkles are social and not based of anything physical. Otherwise, I'd be a scrawny broccoli head like you."

Anton rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Do you guys have a way to the school? I'd like to not get caught."

Drake shrugged. "I can fly both of you. It's not that far away by air."

James groaned out to the sky again and thumped the back of his head on the diner's glass window. "I just hate to give up. There has to be some place we haven't looked where Moxie would be."

Anton blinked and brushed some hair from in front of his eyes. "Moxie? Is she missing?"

"In a way," James said. "Why? You know more about her than me? You'd know where she is?"

"I mean," Anton twiddled his thumbs. "Have you tried Steve's house?"

"Steve?" James asked.

Drake sighed. "You mean Steve Buscemi?"

"Yeah, we went there for the bomb hunt. That's how we know Steve," Anton said while pulling out his phone. "We've been in contact with him ever since, but Moxie has been talking to him a lot more."

"Why?"

Anton thought back to when they broke into his house and found the science lab underneath in the basement. He then thought to the conversation under the cafeteria table with Moxie and Robyn. "It's...uh...I guess she just really loves Boardwalk Empire. But...it's about thirty minutes north of our school. Nice place. Lotsa wood there."

James glared at the boy. He could see a lie a mile away, but it was unimportant what secrets the annoying stalk of celery had within him. He gestured at Drake and raised his eyebrows in a questioning look.

"If I take you there," Drake said. "I'm not coming back. I'll drop you off, but I need my sleep."

"Fine," James said. "But if I miss the festival because of this, it's on you."

"Man," Drake said. From his back burst out his dragon wings. "I don't know how I'll be able to sleep tonight."

The crisp air blew past Shoto, his hand skimming over the copper rock that crumbled behind him.

His shoes dug into the face of the hill, the final assault in the climb upward to the summit. It was the only tough part of the hike. With a heave over the lip of the plateau at the top, a few more pebbles tumbled down the slopes surface towards the flat trail about twenty feet below.

The sky, a deep periwinkle with the remaining early morning stars twinkling beneath the shine of the dissolving moon, wrapped the world in a thin blanket that seemed infinite over the horizon. Shoto's breath floated above visible as he massaged the goosebumps growing on his arms.

Around him, the other end of the summit was a gigantic drop-off. The flat face of the west end of the mountain rose thousands of feet above the hard ground of the redwood forest. However, it was a perfect facing for the impending sunrise. It was a glorious sight that showcased the bubbling brooks and dirt passages that crossed over the massive expanse of the forests.

With only his breath huffing and the quiet wash of the pre-dawn breeze licking his ears, Shoto stepped towards the center of the plateau. It was mostly unremarkable save for a single auburn rock placed in the middle for sitting. The ground, a hard but movable clay, gave way to Shoto's imprinting footsteps as he headed for the rock.

Seated at the rock, Alistair drew out a cold breath. His arm resting on his knee, he smiled out at the ghost of the sunrise minutes from crowning over the jagged horizon.

"You could've waited for me," Shoto brushed off some dirt from his pant leg and hobbled over to Alistair.

"You're showing your age, Shoto," Alistair hummed to himself in a teasing fashion. "Maybe cardio is something heroes should focus more on."

Shoto stopped next to the boy. His eyes slid over to the corner and gazed down at the shock of blonde hair tussled by the wind.

"You're a strange kid, you know that?" Shoto said.

"Oh, you just need to get more fun out of life," Alistair brushed back his bangs and beamed up at the Pro-Hero. "Apparently, you won't have that much more time to do so, right? Since you're dying and all."

Shoto swallowed the lump in his throat and contracted his hands into a fist. As nice as the hike had been, the thought of his own doom encircled his mind like a stalking coyote. After his mission was finished, would he have the courage to go through with it? Shoto reached in his pocket for the bottle of pills. He turned them and felt the jostle of the capsules shaking within.

Giving a curt nod, Shoto threw the pack off his back and let it smack the ground. A layer of dust kicked upward as Shoto reached into the bag. He pulled out a silver shovel and slid out a Manila folder with only a few papers shoved into the inside.

Shoto kissed the lip of the shovel onto the base of the rock Alistair sat on and lifted his foot. With a grunt, Shoto dug his soles into the edge of the shovel and buried the top into the hard clay.

"Do you mind," Shoto gestured at Alistair.

Alistair frowned and clambered off the rock. He stood to the side as Shoto wedged the shovel between the ground and the small Boulder. The boy shoved his hands into his strange cloak and watched Shoto lift up the boulder. His arms strained, Shoto groaned out when the boulder gave way and rolled over to the side. It bounced on its new spot and rested with a cloud of dust puffing over the plateau.

Beneath the boulder was a small hole dipping just a few feet into the ground; an imprint from the boulder's weight. Just deep enough to conceal certain items.

Shoto dropped the shovel, a harsh clang emanating from the impact of the metal on a rock by his feet. He reached down and grabbed the folder and stepped towards the hole.

"What are those?" Alistair asked.

Shoto opened the folder and scrawled through the contents. "Just some loose ends. A letter to some of my friends. Family. My will, also. There's really not much left, though. Just a condo."

"Very personal, then?"

Shoto, feeling no consequence out of keeping Alistair informed, flipped over to one letter. He could not help the smile when he read the name at the top.

"I could read you a small piece," Shoto said. "It would ease my soul of at least one person heard some of this from me."

Alistair sat himself at the boulder opposite Shoto.

Shoto felt a squeeze at his heart when he sucked in a deep breath. "This letter is to a classmate of mine. He was very supportive of me when few really were. And...I guess this letter says a few things thanking him. 'To Midoriya.'"

Shoto glued his gaze to the sheet of paper hugged to his chest and swallowed another lump in his throat. "'Midoriya. Thanks for trying to get me cured. At this point, we know there is little that can be done. But...I hope you remember me for being a loyal friend. You're strong enough to go on without me, and I ask that you do so."

Alistair tapped his foot on the ground. A serious look on his face when he noticed Shoto turn and face the edge of the cliff. The moon had faded completely into the oasis of lilac above to give way to the ensuing sun as it would rise any minute now.

"I said to somebody once to never forgot who you wanted to become. You never did. I wish I was as good as you at that. I also wish I was better at being sociable. Being happy. Being as loving as you are with those around you. It...it never made sense to me how you could be so grateful for what you were given. But...but I understand now how important it is to be grateful. I wish I could learn to treat those things in my life the same way."

His eyes beginning to swim with the threat of tears, Shoto kept his sight upward and noticed the sky being traced with a glowing red dot of an airplane. He followed it to keep his composure, the quiet wind making his corneas cool once he blinked and swallowed once more.

"I leave you my second place medal from our first year Sports Festival," Shoto spat out like he was drowning and gasping for air. "You deserved it more than me, anyway."

Shoto brushed his eyes and closed the folder.

"Shoto," Alistair shuffled over to the man as he looked down at the small gap next to the boulder. "You don't need to go through with any of this."

Shoto scoffed and glared at Alistair. "Seriously, kid. What is your problem?" He snapped. "What do you care what happens to me?"

"I just think you're end could be better suited for something heroic."

"I don't need an ending," Shoto said. "I've done most of what I needed to do on this Earth. And some being up there, I don't know who, but they said my time is up. I've said my goodbyes, and I don't want to be a pity party. I just...I just want to be remembered as strong. And spending the next six months losing my quirk and becoming a bag of bones and skin is not in my future."

Alistair crossed his arms and chuckled. "I just think your remaining time in this realm could be...better suited for other activities."

Shoto raised an eyebrow incensed. The folder in his hands shook with the papers inside ruffling in his tight grasp. "What activities?"

"Sin is a very unique thing to humans," Alistair said burrowing past Shoto's question. "We may be the only creatures in this universe that recognize it. Are harmed by it. Guilt. You have envied many others over the years."

"Resentment," Shoto said. "That's not envy."

"Resentment is born from envy," Alistair gestured out at the landscape over the cliff's edge. The sky was a brighter purple with the stars still twinkling above. "Shoto, I have a certain...gift. A quirk, I guess you people would call it. And it does some very magical things. Very magical, indeed. It can grant you a whole new life. A life where you can be useful. You can make a difference. A life where you can make your friends and family proud at least one more time. A task that's fit for a hero like you. Not just dying off on top of a mountain."

Shoto narrowed his eyes. "What on Earth are talking about? What kind of quirk does such a thing?"

Alistair turned and faced Shoto. "Shoto, I don't think it's a secret now that I know...much about you."

In that instant, Alistair's eyes grew a vibrant green and locked onto Shoto's eyes like a predator finding prey. A brighter green than Shoto thought was possible. However, a tint of light emanated from his pupils which seemed to glow like a flashlight. Despite the warnings in his head, Shoto remained frozen in place from the odd teenager who was now grinning like a maniacal hyena.

"You see, Shoto, you possess a power within your soul different than others," Alistair said. "Very few in this universe have it, but just enough for me to reach my goal. My Creator, perhaps maybe yours, has sent me on a mission to wield these powers so I can return home."

"Home?" Shoto said in a soft tone. He felt his own free will seeping away from him as Alistair's smooth voice and glowing eyes muddled his brain like an fizzing radio station. "What do you mean?"

"I'd like to explain more," Alistair stepped closer to Shoto just an arms length away. "But it would be best to have you on board first."

"But...why me?"

Alistair chuckled. "Shoto, you are the personification of envy. Your entire life has been built upon envy. Even your final letter to this Midoriya person! You wax poetic about it, but the fact of the matter is that you are envious of him. You're envious of so many because they have the things that should be easy. Having a family? Caring for others? These are things some people do on accident. You? You have worked as hard as you can, and it's still not enough."

"You-you're right," Shoto said with a strange tingling raking over his arms like small pellets of rain tickling his skin. "That is my sin. I am envy."

Alistair pulled out what seemed to be strange long wooden stick. With his right hand, he extended it to Shoto. "But I can cleanse your sin and your soul. I can take you to the promised land. All I need in return is that power. And once you agree to this for me, we will both be set free from our sins. After that...we can both go home."

Shoto had no idea what that even meant. Yet, his brain was too unfocused to do much else. He was reduced to a brainwashed stupor. His reasoning drunk like a cat of whiskey injected into his heart. The feeling, not unpleasant, made his body warm in spite the cool morning air. With Alistair's smile and the intoxicating eyes of his, he could resist no more.

"Yes, home," Shoto reached his hand out.

"That's right. Home," Alistair said with the tips of their fingers about to touch. "With a real family."

"Yes. A real family."

"And a real son."

Shoto blinked.

A real son?

Katsu?

"What?" Shoto asked. "What are you talking about?"

Alistair's smirk evaporated. "Uh...this is the part where you take my hand, Shoto."

Shoto's eyes became more focused and unclouded as he faced the boy. He stepped back and glared at the boy. "What do you mean by that? A real son? Just how patronizing can you be?"

"Shoto, we can debate this later. Just take my damn hand so I can do the spell," Alistair thrusted out his hand and jabbed it at Shoto's shoulder.

"No," Shoto bit back. "I've worked too hard and too long at raising Katsu for him to not be a real son. He is, and you saying otherwise won't change that."

"If you cared so much, you wouldn't kill yourself then. For him," Alistair said.

"I'm doing this for him. He's not going to watch me deteriorate," Shoto raised his voice. "He's going to remember me for who I was. And it's not like I'm leaving him with nothing. He has a support system. He has people that care for him. I'm going to be remembered by him as strong and that won't be tarnished by me just withering away."

"So when you face a big challenge like cancer, you give up," Alistair said. "That's a weird definition you got there for the word 'strong.'"

"What's weak is being a burden for people to take care of. I'm doing everyone a favor."

"How selfish of you," Alistair said. "You'd leave him with that grief. You'd leave just because you couldn't take a little pain. And most of all, you'd leave without doing this favor for me?" Alistair huffed and crossed his arms. "Can we go now?"

"I'm not doing a thing for you." Shoto fumed. His opened up his fist with a cloud of frost pluming over his palm. "Now, who the hell are you? What are you? Answer. Or, I suggest you leave me be so I can handle the last of my business. I'm my own man, and I'm ending this on my terms."

Shoto plunged his hand into his pocket and lifted out the bottle of pills. Looking inside, he saw the orange tint surrounding the red capsules and blinked when the capsules cascaded over one another. Feeling weak for a second, he saw through the bottle Alistair's puzzled expression and suddenly gained the gust of bravery he needed. He yanked the bottle down to his chest and twisted the cap off. Right at the center of his neck, his mouth was agape and ready to ingest them.

He froze.

A still and calming silence overtook the formerly gusty mountain peak. A stalemate of sorts brewed between the two. Alistair, his eyes almost daring Shoto to continue as the Pro-Hero had the bottle ready to empty its contents into his body.

This was it. There would be no turning back. It was either to end this now or wither away like the trees branches shedding itself of leaves for a permanent winter. In that instant, Shoto became aware of his surroundings more than ever. The sound of the far sparrows fluttering wings over the treetops. The scrunch of his shoes on the ancient rock underneath him. The stars above hovering like ghosts as they disappeared into the now light pink sky. His mind screamed at him to finish the job lest he be trapped into the prison of memories that played through his head like a projector posing film stock on a theater screen.

Yet, the film clicked through him as he saw his life. The anger of his father. The silent visits to his mother. The empty wooden chairs that surrounded him at the dinner table as he munched on barely boiled ramen. Then, his time at U.A. Meeting his entire class. How they all seemed to admire him. The first time in his life he felt apart of a group that cared about him. The villains they took on and defeated.

Midoriya.

Momo.

Katsu.

The final villain he knew he could not defeat.

Shoto placed the lid on the bottom of his lips. The capsules pressed on his dry mouth and threatened to tumble in.

Then...

"Awgh!" Shoto shouted.

A shock of ivory hot electricity zapped at his heart. Shoto collapsed to the ground on his back. His head slammed back onto a rock which scrapped at his hair and dug into his skin. Dropping the pill bottle, It rolled over a few feet away between the center and precipice of the plateau. The clatter of the pills inside shook and rattled before resting in a small crack away from him. His heart, already pounding before, raced like a speedboat towards a waterfall.

Shoto grabbed his chest. He was unsure if he had just been bitten by an animal or if he was having a heart attack in such a high stress setting. He squeezed around his heart, the organ popping with every beat as he gasped for air akin to a traveler's parched body in the desert.

He strained his head up and looked over the tips of his shoes. Alistair stood several feet away with that weird weapon in his hands. His face a unamused scowl.

"Looks like I'll have to do this the hard way then," Alistair huffed and pointed that strange wooden stick at Shoto's chest.

"What did you do?" Shoto panted. "What is that thing?"

"It's how I direct my power," Alistair said with a show-off smirk. "My creator has allowed me some pretty fun tricks, but I can only use it on certain people."

Shoto had enough of the cryptic language. Realizing that Alistair was quite serious about keeping him alive for his own nefarious purpose, Shoto had to get to the bottle right away. He scrunched his leg up and dug it into the ground right at his waist. Using his leg strength, he thrusted himself back to his feet and lumbered forward. He lunged at the pill bottle like a python striking prey as his hand reached out for the receptacle.

As fast as he covered ground, Shoto yelled when he felt another stab. An invisible katana slashed at his chest which made him fall right onto his face. His body slid over the hard rock and minuscule pebbles a few feet before his head dug into a crevice and stopped him. His body was incapacitated with the shock of the attack which rendered his limbs frozen and spasming. Just as soon as the shock arrived, it left with only the numb memory of the pain wracking through his body. His heart hurt worse than ever, and Shoto flipped himself onto his back.

Alistair sashayed over towards the man. He hummed with his green eyes still illuminated in the pre-dawn haze, the odd stick in his hand pointed right at Shoto while he came towards him. "What's wrong, Shoto? Feeling a little gassed over a small wooden stick? Well, perhaps that cancer of yours is causing you to be weaker than I thou-."

His right sight smoldering like a smokestack struck by lightning, Shoto thrusted out his hand. A flume of fire hurled at his palm and shot out at Alistair. The fire roared and illuminated the outline of the boy as the flames raced for him. The fire cocooned the boy, erasing his shape into the train of flames. The heat broiled the sweat singing Shoto's brow; energy escaping his body as his arm strained for relief from the blast.

Shoto rested on his side with his head hunched onto his shoulder. He gasped for air and slowed down his breathing with the grey smoke in front of him dissipating. The flames evaporated into the light orange of the ensuing sun soon to be escaping beyond the horizon.

What he saw next made Shoto gasp.

A light blue fizzle of an outline with an electric hiss swatting the outline of a certain blonde boy.

Alistair phased right through the smoke apparently uninjured by the attack.

Shoto yelled out and slashed another fireball. This time, it was small and pitched right at Alistair's center.

The boy flinched none as the ball flashed right through his body like air and travelled into the ether beyond the edge of the summit. It was as if he was not even there.

"Is this your quirk?" Shoto asked. "Objects go right through you?"

"My quirk?" Alistair mocked. "I don't have a quirk, Shoto. Because I am not of this universe."

Just then, a bright flash from behind Alistair. Shoto shielded his eyes when the light descended as quickly as it arrived. Peering up at the figure now towering above, he saw Alistair's handsome face casting a shadow that cooled Shoto from the heat that began to emanate from the morning sun. Behind Alistair, however, was a pair of sleek, solid white wings that seemed to float just an inch away from his back. More metal than feather, the wings gleamed and caused Shoto to hold out his hand again to shield his eyes.

"I have been sent here to erase your sin of envy, Shoto," The boy said as he pointed the wand right at his face. "And you are going to come with me to repent and help me get home."

Before Alistair could react, Shoto slammed his hand on the ground. A platform of ice enveloped the ground where the two stood. Using it as a foundation, Shoto built a wall of ice and rose it from the ground to create a shield between him and the boy's view. Knowing he could simply phase through attacks, Shoto decided using surprise and stealth was his best method to get to the pill bottle. The ice chiseled and clinked with the crystals sparking like fireworks. Forming a tall enough shield, Shoto snapped back to his feet and created a ribbon of ice leading towards the orange bottle in the crevice. In a split second, he though to Bakugo's use of his nitroglycerin quirk and decide propulsion would give him the momentum he needed even if Alistair found him to attack again.

He turned around facing away from the pill bottle. Holding his hand out, he channeled all of his energy into one large blast. The explosion, abnormally small, was enough to propel Shoto backwards over the ice trail. With his other hand, he spat out a wall of ice that followed him and created an embankment that cocooned him from Alistair's sight. Protected from his gaze and his wand, Shoto slid backwards and rocketed towards the pill bottle.

"No. Stop!" Alistair shouted. He phased through the wall of ice and saw Shoto skating towards the pills.

Turning his head back, Shoto saw the bottle at the end of the ice trail. He got closer and prepared to reach out his hand.

Stab.

This time, it really hurt.

Shoto could not even hear the scream when he plunged backwards and slammed onto the ice. The wind rushed out of his lngs like a dam breaking and releasing water. Fortunately, his backup to the plan worked and he still moved towards the bottle. His body slid, and the friction between his clothes and the ice caused him to stop. However, gritting his teeth through the pain, Shoto reached his arm back and rolled his eyes towards the very corner of his lids.

There, shining in the rising sun, was the bottle of pills that would end this nightmare. Despite the pain, he reached closer for the pills.

"I said, stop!"

Another slice. This time it pierced at the nerves that led towards his arm.

Shoto lost control of his arm. His limbs spasmed like he was set on fire as he roared out in pain, After all the villains and battles he had been in, he had never felt such agony with the muscles in his body cramping up and shriveling with every burning second. He fought his own brain to extend his arm and reach for the pills just inches away. His fingers extended, and he fought through the convulsions with every torturous inch closer to the sweet end that awaited him.

Just a few more inches.

His fingertips right at the bottle.

"Shoto, stop!"

Stab.

Shoto screamed again and thrusted his hand right to the bottle. However, his hands snapped into an involuntary fist. He inadvertently punched the bottle and caused it to pop out of the crevice.

The pills inside rattled with some spilling out along the floor as the bottle careened towards the edge. Hitting a few pebbles, it slowed to a halt right at the precipice of the cliff.

Alistair lifted the distressing spell from Shoto. The man splayed himself flat on his back and wheezed for air. His arms weak and legs locked in a cramping angle, he shivered from the ice floor beneath him kissing his bare arms and the skin revealed from the ripped tatters and holes from parts of his hiking pants torn in the crash he just committed.

The turpentine mixture of pain and shame at being bested by what appeared to a teenaged boy made Shoto's heart heavier than the pain that still coursed through his abused muscles. He bit his lip with his teeth leaving indentations to charge through the pain and frustration. However, it was all for naught as he looked down at himself and his maimed body.

When he looked up at Alistair, the boy stood right next to him and stared straight down like a vulture examining the death throes of road kill before pecking its corpse.

Shoto's breathing quickened like the starting of a race car engine. He grunted and snorted out hot air in defiance at the boy. With a shout, Shoto blasted out an explosion right at Alistair's face.

It phased right through him. The boy didn't even flinch.

Another shout.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Shoto screamed as the flames erupted right at the boy, but it was no use. Alistair stood, this time his face more solemn than normal. His eyes lidded, the boy had his wan to the side as he saw Shoto lose his mind.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

One more scream.

With a final attack, Shoto reached out his hand and prepared for a big blast right into Alistair's face. he knew it would not work, but he would at least feel better about trying to take down the adversary. However, when he pooled his energy into the last gasp, there were no flames to be had. No explosion. Shoto pumped his hand, but not even a smolder appeared no matter how hard he tried. He was a gun that had used up all of his ammunition.

Shoto coughed out a dry heave and collapsed his arm back onto the ground. With the cough, the harsh sobs assaulted his throat.

Tears started to threaten his eyesight, Alistair becoming blurred like he was viewing him through frosted glass. He was weak, tired, and his quirk now unreliable due to the cancer that was just now starting to shut down his body. More so than the pain, the promise of a future where his quirk would be unusable made him cry out harder. He was a shell of himself, and all he could do was hug himself around his chest and cry out to the sky.

"Please, somebody help," Shoto cried out. He closed his eyes as the sobs jolted through his body. "Midoriya, Father, Mother! Somebody! I need help. I want somebody. Please!"

Alistair's arms hung heavy next to him as he considered the crying man. "I thought you wanted to die, Shoto. I thought that was your wish."

Shoto hugged himself tighter. "No, I don't want to die. I want to my friends again! My family! Mother and Father! I just...I just don't want to be so miserable anymore."

"And you thought death would be the best way out of that?" Alistair asked in a soft tone.

"I didn't want to go through the pain," Shoto stammered out. "The pain of getting better. Of trying to fight it. I didn't want anyone to see me become so weak."

The boy's green eyes narrowed as he tilted his head at Shoto. "You're far from weak, Shoto. But you're belief that you have to leave a memory of bravado and strength instead of honest perseverance has led you here. Imagine you had tried to follow your cancer treatment. You had been honest with Katsu. You hadn't pushed Moxie or Doctor Tsuchida or Midoriya who just wanted you to get better. You envied there optimism. Their ease in fighting through life and maintaining the joy of life despite what they face."

Shoto wiped away the tears and gaped at Alistair. "I do. And...this is my retribution. Isn't it?"

Alistair nodded and let out a quick hum. "Maybe. But you don't have much of a choice anymore, Shoto. Either you join me and help me achieve my goal, or you can take those pills and die. But believe me, I don't plan on killing you. I couldn't even if I wanted to. You are the Sin of Envy, after all. I need your magic in order to get back home You and I possess the same kind of soul in that way. That said," Alistair raised his wand back at Shoto. "I can't kill you, but I can still make it hurt like hell until you decide."

Right as the boy thrusted the tip of the want at Shoto's chest, Shoto's refelxes kicked in and he reached out his palm.

Stab.

Whoosh!

A final spout of fire slammed forward and slashed at Alistair's face. While Shoto grunted out from the pain of Alistair's magic, the boy reeled back as the heat scorched him rigth in the face. He yelped in pain and brushed away the dying flames from the attack.

Shoto's eyes widened. Alistair nearly dropped his wand when he stumbled backwards and tapped at his own porcelain face. The tips of his hair and eyebrows were slightly singed. The edges of his cloak smoked and smoldered in the pale sunlight now starting to glow above.

"W-what?" Alistair asked more to himself.

The boy stared over at Shoto.

Without another word, Alistair pointed the wand again. Perhaps it was just a fluke.

Shoto, however, was ready. This time, a cloud of frost surrounded his opposing fist.

The wand pointed at Shoto.

Stab.

Shling!

When he felt the pain, Shoto slung his arm forward. The ice below crawled like a wildfire over the ground. He lifted up the freeze off the ground and created a surge of ice that rose up into a short wall that crescendoed forward. Right at Alistair's face, the ice collided and knocked the boy backwards.

He fell onto his back and rolled over before bounding back to his feet. His wand still in hand, he rubbed his cheek and shivered from the impact with the ice.

"What the bloody hell?" Alistair asked. "What are you doing?"

Shoto rose up to his feet. In those split instances, he connected the dots between the impact and his quirk.

This kid is invincible. Untouchable, Shoto thought to himself. But when he uses that strange stick, he becomes vulnerable for only an instant. Apart of my reality for just a split second. In that moment he attacks me...

Shoto rushed forward. A newfound energy coursing through his blood vessels, he braced himself for the inevitable shock of pain. Squeezing his fists together, he saw the whites of the now surprised boy's eyes as he flicked his wand at him again.

Stab.

Shoto slashed a rope of fire from waist height and flung it forward. The fire band spiraled and blasted Alistair off his feet. The boy face-planted and rolled himself on the floor. Covered in auburn dirt and dazed from the impact, Alistair stumbled back to his feet and pulled his arm out to regain balance.

When he attacks me...I can attack back.

With a quick breath, Shoto charged forward again. This time, his purpose and energy now renewed. He could end this threat right here and now. Then, he could get his bottle and finish his final task.

Alistair raised his wand.

Shoto leapt forward, his fist out and ready to strike.