SO HERE WE ARE. The end of Kamino. These last few chapters have really felt like they need to be taken in all at once, or at least I feel like they have. So hopefully this chapter will nicely wrap up everything that happened... for the most part. Gotta keep some mysteries going. But overall this is intended to feel like an 'ending' chapter to a lot of big arcs. This should also feel a bit more... polished than the other chapters since I had my fancy new PC to work on it properly and not in bits and pieces.

So hopefully you guys enjoy it. Read on my dudes!


From the second the Divine Void overtook him, Azrael that he had been too late.

He knew that power. He knew who wielded it.

The Praetorian of the Archangels had come for Lucifer.

The world froze around him while he continued to move. One such as him, a being that was outside the usual rules that governed those of heaven, hell, and earth, could still move through the time-stasis.

But the world could not.

He saw demons mid-strike, heroes in the very second of using their quirks, policemen with bullets hanging, suspended, from the barrels of their guns. He saw families running, cowering, bloody, bruised, and broken.

He saw them all with pinpoint accuracy. Frozen in time.

And then he saw the angels. The human spirits who had given themselves to the Legions. He saw their faceless, ethereal bodies, made of light and glory, descending into the world.

He saw them taking the hands of the dead and leading them away into the void of light. Many more he saw plunging weapons into the frozen host demons, burning them to nothingness. They were easy prey, after all. They had taken possession of physical forms and thus were trapped. And yet they were also aware enough to know that they were trapped. Trapped and forced to watch as the angels advanced.

They screamed as they burned from the gouging, beheading wounds of the holy weapons.

One or two of the angels saw him, rushing through the city at speeds that should have left windows shattered and buildings collapsing in his wake. Now the stasis had been established, he could move freely without causing damage.

Inside he could feel the beast rumbling through his blood. It had been a long time since he had been a party to such carnage. The smell of blood and ash, bodies and death lingered even here, even in the Divine Void.

He even felt something he hadn't felt in a long time ghost up his arms and his neck. The extended feathers of his Fallen form.

With a mighty effort of will, he forced back the darkness within himself. It faded into his blood like a fine mist.

But it never truly vanished. It never truly would. And in the back of his mind, he wondered if he would have to call upon its might to stop what was about to happen.

If it did come to that, then he knew he would never be forgiven.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt okay with that.

He arrived at where he was sure the church was supposed to be. Instead, there was nothing but devastation. Rubble, fire, corpses, and demons. Humans frozen in desperate fighting, their terrified, enraged, or hopeless expressions lit by the bright void-space that had replaced the shadows.

The rain was frozen in the air, yet still, it pattered against Azrael as he moved through the open sky.

Still, he felt its cold touch on his flashing golden skin.

He spotted his siblings easily. They were like lighthouses of dark and light even in the stasis void.

Satani was vast in their war-form. A terrifying, seductive, all-consuming, all-corrupting Serpentine-Bull thing that spoke of the darkest lusts and desires of mankind's soul. It was the tempting blade, the poisoned kiss, the need for base satisfaction. It was all those things, and more, and it was terrible.

And yet even at this moment, when they were brought to their knees, Azrael knew something had changed about them. Something he didn't have the time to assess, but something he suspected he already knew.

He heard Lucifer speak, his body having taken on his huge, corrupted, unlight-clad war-form. The Dragon-Wolf, the terror that haunted the hearts and souls of mankind. The very evil of hell washed off him in waves, daring to corrupt the stasis void. The light clashed like swirling, mixing waves against the shadow he projected. Yet he was diminished in ways that only now were truly revealed. Still royal, still noble, and still with the flickering halo-crown of their claimed throne of darkness.

But certainly, against their other siblings, diminished in their might and glory.

It certainly didn't help that he was almost brought to his knees. Panting and coated with his own blood and gore. He bore open wounds across every limb, great renting cuts that showed muscle and even bone, and even his tail was cut at the tip.

And yet he still refused to fall. Still, he forced his back straight and his head high.

"Hello, Gabriel."

Gabriel was… incredible. The twin of Lucifer, and yet more of a bright mirror to their ever-present darkness. Gabriel was like a wall of defiance made manifest, an unbreakable shield and sword combined. Simply looking at Gabriel made even Azrael feel braver, more courageous. It made him feel as though he could accomplish anything, even the horror of the war that had broken out in the span of hours.

Gabriel was human-like in form, as no Archangel possessed a corrupted form like the Fallen did, and yet in so many ways, they were Lucifer's perfect twin, sharing their body shape and even facial features. Though where Lucifer was dark-haired and blue-eyed, Gabriel was golden-haired and with eyes that burned red with the fire of life and creation. It was a warmth to Lucifer's cold. A purity to Lucifer's corruption. Even their armor, a copy of the armor now worn by the Redeemer Prince, was somehow brighter and less corrupted.

Where Lucifer's form was spiked, debased, and glowing with the blue flame of hell, Gabriel was white and gold. Where Lucifer's halo was a corona of never-ending darkness, the very death of the sun, Gabriel's halo was bright and golden and shining with the purity and light of their Father.

Where Lucifer's blade was made of the last moment, a cold, empty void of a weapon speaking of the end of all things, Gabriel held the first moment. A dark blade, contrasting with their being, but a darkness that spoke of the beginning of all things, the very first instant in which all motion was set.

And where Lucifer's wings were torn and destroyed into nothing more than bloody stumps, Gabriel's were great, golden-blonde wings of shimmering feathers.

Before he could stop himself, Azrael dived before Lucifer, landing before him with his swords held out to either side, his body covered in ash and fire, his clothes torn but his eyes still blazing bright.

He was not diminished, and he could still fight.

"I won't let you take him!"

The words fell of out Azrael's mouth before he could even stop himself. Behind him, he heard Lucifer panting, and that sent an anxiety oh so close to fear tearing through Azrael's gut. Celestials didn't pant, they didn't get exhausted, and yet Lucifer was ruined. He could hear his heart struggling to beat, his blood almost forcing itself through his too-close-to-mortal body.

Gabriel simply looked at him. There was an utter contempt to their gaze that was crushing in its weight. Gabriel had always been that way. They were a leader, even amongst the Celestials. Someone who brokered no argument when a command was given.

Azrael, however, stood firm. He was the black sheep, and he would play his role.

"Move aside, little sibling. This is a deal you cannot alter."

Even their voice was pure and as solid as the very earth itself, without any doubt or hesitation. It was resolute, almost stubborn.

Gabriel was surrounded by six, softly glowing figures in golden, Roman-style armor. They were their court, their Seraphim. They were each armed, though not all alike. One held a great shield and spear, another a huge sword the size of their entire body. Another a mighty double-headed axe, another held a sword and a shield. Two of them had bows which they aimed at Satani and Lucifer respectively.

"What… what has happened to me…" Satani breathed out. They were clutching their sublime chest tightly, so tightly that their claws were starting to dig into their flesh. "What… what is this feeling…"

"Be silent, deviant," Gabriel growled with a commanding tone at their sibling. "And wait your turn."

"She… she stole something from me." Satani panted as his form curled back into itself, becoming the lithe, four-armed but identifiably humanoid being it was before. "I can't- what is this feeling?"

Indeed, something was missing from their devious sibling. Something that had always been a part of them, but was now… no longer. So lost were they that they hadn't even noticed several of the Seraphim moving to surround them.

It would be a struggle even for one of the Celestials to avoid being hurt by four of the strongest angels in heaven.

Lucifer too shrank down to a more human form, though his was beaten and bloody beyond anything a human should be able to withstand. A body torn and ruined and soaked in its own gore.

The fact those wounds weren't healing spoke volumes at how far he had fallen from his once apex position at the top of their siblings' hierarchy.

Save, perhaps, only for their twin standing before them.

As the two remaining Seraphim moved to surround Lucifer, the King of Hell quietly breathed out, "stand aside, Azrael."

"No!" Azrael's voice was almost panicked. Almost. "I won't- I don't care- I can't-"

"Do as they say, Unforgiven," Gabriel ordered. "Enough blood has been shed here, even our blood. I would have no more if I could help it."

"No!" Azrael protested again. "I won't! Gabriel, please- he's not like before! He's changed! He's-"

"Azrael. It's okay."

Lucifer stepped forward and placed a hand upon Azrael's shoulder. It was a move that their past self would have made controlling and mocking, but now it was… soft, thankful.

It was the gesture of one who appreciated the love of their sibling.

For a moment, the two stared at one another before Azrael finally, and reluctantly, lowered his twin katana blades and moved to one side with the soft bow of his head.

The two Seraphim did not fully advance. Indeed, they kept their weapons trained on the King, but they did not surround him as they had Satani. Rather, they simply stood at the ready.

Was it so obvious that he was no longer a threat?

Lucifer let their hand fall from Azrael's shoulder and straightened up, matching Gabriel for every inch despite the terrible blows dealt to his being. For a moment, the two stared at one another, and an ancient tension hummed in the air between them, a tension that had clearly never been resolved.

It was an old, old argument, one without a resolution.

"You could have come earlier, you know. Saved some of those precious souls you care so deeply for."

"My time to arrive was now, as it has always been," Gabriel responded. "And this is more than you deserve, traitor."

"Or maybe you just wanted me weakened before you clasped me in chains." Lucifer smiled, their teeth were pink with blood. "Afraid you couldn't beat me a second time?"

"I fear nothing." Gabriel's stony expression didn't change. "Especially not you."

"Not even Father?"

Gabriel didn't respond, and Lucifer laughed, though it turned into a wet, bloody cough.

"So, what happens now?" Azrael asked slowly, his eyes darting from Gabriel to the surrounded Satani, to Lucifer.

"You already know," Lucifer replied with a pained shrug. "Father wants me home. So, I am to go home."

"What happened to me?" They turned to see Satani had slowly gotten back to their feet. They seemed to be completely ignoring the Seraphim, and one might assume rightly so. Their eyes were, instead, locked upon Lucifer. "You know, don't you? What has that little bitch stolen from me?!"

"That little bitch, as you call her, is in the process of being reborn," Lucifer replied in a cold tone. Their eyes glanced to the miniature sun, which still bloomed upon the battlefield, suspended in its furious, fiery glory. "If she survives of course. The next part is all on her."

"But what has she-"

"Did I not tell you to be silent?" Gabriel turned their eyes onto Satani, and even the Lord of Lust and Desire hesitated at their look. "You know what they have taken from you. If you even took a moment to search within yourself, you would know."

"I'll take it back." Satani spat through needle teeth. "I'll take back what belongs to me! I'll rip it from that thief's soul!"

"You will do no such thing, or rather, you will not have the chance to. Not for a long time, anyway." Gabriel responded sharply. "Or did you not think you would be punished, Satani?"

"You can't arrest me." Satani grinned, their strength returning more and more with each passing moment. "Father would not have me return to the Empyrean Halls. I am banished to Hell, remember? It is my realm. I have a role to play."

"Indeed. You are banished to hell. And you shall remain there." Gabriel turned to them fully now, and their power radiated from them in waves.

And yet Azrael noticed something… different about it.

Something that all the siblings, apart from him, now seemed to share.

"For this disruption to Earth, for the lives you have taken here, and for the meddling in the lives of mortals and immortals alike, you are to be sufficiently punished for your actions."

Satani practically swayed. "Oh, please, nothing you can do will hurt me, dearest sibling."

"It is not pain you are to be sentenced with." Gabriel almost smiled. Almost. Azrael could see the tiny twitch at the corner of their lips. "It is inaction."

Satani's smile dropped. "What?"

Gabriel moved, and Azrael found himself utterly astonished by the purity and power of their action. It was as if it had always been that way. As if time itself made exceptions for the Primus Inter Pares of the Archangels.

Satani was suddenly on their knees. Within the next moment, their hands were clasped in great, shining chains made of an immaterial silver. Already the Fallen Archangel was screaming in pain. Gabriel reached forward and grabbed the Fallen Archangel by the throat, hauling them back to face the others.

"You are to be chained to your perverted throne, and there you will stay for the next ten thousand years." The mighty one commanded, their very body glowing with their holy rage. "And furthermore, you shall not speak, until such time as your sentence is over."

Like a swift blade, they went to pull out Satani's wicked tongue, but before they did, Lucifer suddenly stepped forward.

"Wait! I demand an answer to a question." Gabriel paused, surprised at the action, and Lucifer pressed forward before they had a chance to deny him the boon. Lucifer's eyes locked onto Satani. "What was the name of the demon you sent to abduct Izuku when he was young? Tell me, so at least Azrael can see justice done upon them in my stead."

Satani paused for just a moment, then smiled slowly, carefully, and with deliberate venom. "Dearest sibling, do believe me when I tell you that I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lucifer's eyes widened in shock, just as Gabriel tore out Satani's tongue. The spray of blood splattered before Lucifer and Azrael's feet. Within the next moment, the Seraphin had moved in. One came from behind Satani and wrapped what looked to be a mere strip of cloth around the mighty Fallen Archangel's mouth.

The monster of temptation screamed without sound, their body trashing in pain as the strip, clearly blessed and holy, began searing into their flesh.

With the swipe of a hand, Gabriel opened up a vast, dark hole in the Divine Void and practically spat as he announced. "Chain them to their throne." They looked to Lucifer. "I will take this one personally."

Without another word, the Seraphim departed. Lancing hooks into Satani's flesh with lightning speed and dragging him on shimmering wings to the black hole. The monstrous Fallen resisted, but even they could not struggle against chains forged by their own siblings.

With a final, muffled scream of rage, pain and defiance, they were swallowed by the Hellmouth, and dragged back to hell to serve their sentence.

Silence fell once again on the world frozen in time.

"Izuku was almost abducted?" Azrael asked softly, his voice almost echoing into the void.

"Yes. And not by them. Which means-"

"The others. They know." Azrael nodded slowly. "So, it's really happening. Our age of isolation is ending." Their eyes turned to Gabriel, who stood, strong and resolute and invincible before them. "And you know it too, don't you?"

Gabriel was silent, but the silence was broken by Lucifer's harsh, coughing, bloody laugh. "Of course, they do. It is impossible to hide, my twin. What woman tempted you, hm? Or was it a man? I assume it can work both ways. Unless you performed some terrible ritual like this one here, one which ironically played right into Father's hands."

Gabriel continued to be silent, their eyes narrowing deeply.

"Please, sibling, before you take me away to my Father's loving embrace, at least tell me how you figured it out. Surely it wasn't through the same experimenting I did, or perhaps you were simply spying on me?"

Yet before Gabriel could respond, something suddenly curled in Azrael's heart. Some measure of bitter anger at their sibling. Anger, mixed with righteous indignation.

"You… BASTARD. You slept with some mortal! You bred with them!" Azrael spat on the floor before them. "Does that count as Falling? I'm sure you fell on them several times!"

"Quiet."

"Or did they fall on you?"

"No, no, Gabby would never let anyone top them."

"BE SILENT." Gabriel snapped suddenly, stepping forward and causing the very earth to shake under their feet. "It wasn't like that!"

"Oh, but you get to stand there all high and mighty and look down on me! On all of us! Mr. Purity of Spirit fucked someone and had a bastard child!"

Lucifer was grinning with bloody teeth. "It is ironic, sibling."

"Love," Gabriel suddenly cut in, "is not a sin."

"Oh, so you loved them? That makes all the difference, does it?"

"YES."

Azrael was shocked into silence. Gabriel took another step, grabbed them by the shirt, and pulled them close. Their golden eyes were blazing with fury. "You know it does."

"Calm down, both of you." Lucifer forcibly separated the two, and Azrael had the sudden flashback of them doing something very similar several millennia ago.

"My twin, tell me at least, do the others know?"

Gabriel was quiet for a moment. "No. Not yet. I… admit, I am loath to tell them." Their blazing eyes turned on Azrael again. "Which is why I am to give you purpose, sibling."

Azrael felt a quiet shock run through him. There was literally no task in the universe to which Gabriel could not do. So, to ask him for a favour was… well, it was odd, to say the least. Unless…

"Is this… is this part of my forgiveness?"

"It can be. Perhaps it may be the start. Come, there is one more task to perform before I bring Lucifer to father's embrace." Gabriel turned his head and began to walk slowly towards the edge of the vast sun. Lucifer and Azrael followed, keeping an easy pace beside them.

Azrael soon saw to whom they were walking towards.

All Might's body lay on the ground, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. Beside him, an angel knelt, their long hair falling down around their head, their faceless expression unreadable, but Azrael could feel the sorrow coming from them.

"The Champion?" Lucifer coughed again, blood falling from their mouth before they wiped it away. "What about him? His time has come. He'll make a nice addition to your Legion, sibling. He may even be a Seraphim with time."

"It is not his time yet. Metatron has foreseen it. Therefore," and they knelt down beside the fallen human. They placed their hand over the wound and, remarkably, it began to close up. "He'll live, but their time is done. Never again will they take to the field of battle."

"You're saving All Might?" Azrael raised an eyebrow. "That seems petty of you."

"It is not him I am saving. Is it his charge. The upcoming Symbol of Defiance. The new Champion of Humanity. The Ascendant One. The old must remain a while longer, to guide and teach them." Gabriel rose again and looked to Lucifer. "Such strength I see in this man, and yet it is barely the embers of the flame he once had." Then his eyes turned to the angel who was still kneeling beside him, holding All Might's head within their hands. "Leave him be. You are still, and will forever be a part of them, Nana Shimura."

The angel, Nana Shimura, only nodded, unable to speak. However, she placed one last hand upon the bloody, dirty forehead of the skeletal-thin man, brushing back a single strand of limp hair, before rising, and fading away.

"Azrael. I will send word to you soon enough of the task you are to complete. You," their eyes flicked to Lucifer, "And the Redeemer Prince."

Lucifer only smiled softly before looking to Azrael. "Look after him, sibling." Azrael moved and embraced Lucifer tightly, though as they held one another, in a voice so small and so quiet that only a Celestial could have heard the words, he heard Lucifer add, "and don't you worry. It's all part of the plan."

Azrael let his sibling go and watched as Gabriel grabbed Lucifer tightly by the shoulder.

The world was moving back into motion. The wind was picking up, and heat was rising from the nearby fires, which began a slow, gradual, but increasingly quick dance back into life.

The void was collapsing, growing smaller and smaller with each second that passed. The newborn sun before them was quickly collapsing back into itself.

Azrael stood tall, strong, and determined as the light around them all grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter.

Until it simply wasn't.

And reality came back online.


Toshinori opened his eyes.

He had felt as though he had been dreaming. In that dream he had seen seven figures around him, looking down at him. He didn't recognize them, except for one.

One had been Nana, his old mentor. She had smiled at him, and nodded, though when he had reached out to her, she had stepped back. He had wanted to be with her, to be with all of them. He knew they were the previous users of One For All, he had known that implicitly, though how he wasn't sure.

He knew his time had ended. He was dead. He had died defeating the evil that was All For One. He had stopped the ritual that would have ended the world, he had helped free the son of Hell who had the heart of a human, and he had made sure that his own successor, the boy who had come into a warzone to save his friend, could continue on without him.

So why didn't they want him? Had he not done enough? Had he not sacrificed everything he had in the pursuit of the greater good of mankind?

Could he not finally be allowed to rest?

Just as he felt the weight in his heart growing too great, he saw someone emerge out of the other, fading shadows. A thin, skinny man with white hair and bright eyes.

"It isn't your time yet, Yagi." He spoke with an echoing tone, one which buzzed with a subtle life and energy and power that Toshinori didn't understand but knew was also within his gifted power. "You still have to guide him. The world is about to change, and Hitoshi will be part of it. Be there for him, be the mentor so few of us could be."

He stretched out his hand and within it was a shining light. He smiled, softly, calmly. "Now, wake up. Wake up and take your final bow, All Might."

And so, Toshinori had woken up.

He was laying in the dirt. In the falling rain which drenched his freezing form. He could feel his blood dripping from the many wounds he had. His bones felt broken and ruined in his own skin. His hand slowly moved to his side, where he knew he had been stabbed through the gut. It should have been a fatal blow, so why was he alive?

The wound was there, it still hurt like hell, but it was… healed. Not completely, but enough to stave off death.

Toshinori Yagi would live.

But All Might was dead.

From somewhere far away he heard people shouting, ambulance sirens, screams of pain, of anguish, of panic.

But he didn't hear the war. He didn't hear the madness of battle, and that strange pressure he felt around the Celestials had almost vanished.

Almost.

A shadow fell over him, though it was lined with a softly glowing light. Or at least it seemed that way for only a moment.

Then he realized who it was, looking down at him with great wings outstretched to block the now softly falling rain.

"… Hawks?" He could barely speak, his voice a rasping, broken whisper.

"Awaken, Champion of Mankind, Faded King. Your battle is now over. Peace be upon you." They held out a hand towards him.

Toshinori didn't take it.

"No."

"No?"

"I'll get myself up."

He could hear people approaching. Shouts of recognition, of help.

He was All Might still, if only for a minute longer, and no one could see All Might being helped to his feet, not even by the angelic figure of Hawks.

And so, though his body screamed, and his bones ached and every inch of him only wished for sleep and rest, he began hauling himself up. First onto his side, then his knees, then, as he saw other people finally approaching, to his feet.

There was a camera pointed at him, a woman in dirty, burned clothes with a tight cloth around her arm where red blood blossomed. "A- All Might?"

Toshinori looked to the camera. His secret was exposed now, open to the world. His skeletal image would be broadcast all over Japan. They would all know that the mighty Symbol of Peace had finally fallen. And yet, in one last show of strength, his body inflated to the familiar form it had once been.

Before the news crew stood All Might. Tall, proud, strong, and still undefeated. He stood, and raise one fist defiantly into the air, his face hidden in shadow, dripping with rain and dirt and blood.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence and the awe of the people before him.

And then Hawks moved.

He didn't speak, and Toshinori was glad of that. He might have somehow stolen the moment, which even at that point Toshinori felt selfish for thinking.

Instead, Hawks copied the fallen hero. With a defiant smile, he too raised a fist into the air.

Then the woman copied him, tears in her eyes. Then the cameraman. And without even seeing it, Toshinori knew that all across the nation people were copying the statement. He could hear them, on the wind, a soft wave-like sound as thousands of people cheered his name and held their fists up with his.

He was not defeated, and neither were they.

Good had won. Humanity had won.

"Now," he spoke the words almost as a whisper, though they were in the deep, strong voice of All Might. He looked directly to the camera, his blue eyes flashing in the dark. "It's your turn."


"Now, it's your turn."

The words echoed in Hitoshi's mind.

Nine hundred and fifty-two people dead. Thousands upon thousands more wounded. It was a national tragedy, one that the modern age had been ill-prepared to accept. The balmy days of the long peace had finally been shattered.

All Might… was done.

Hitoshi knew he would never forget that moment, not for the rest of this life. But then again, he knew he would never forget anything from that night.

They had managed to get to the hospital, but they hadn't counted on the fact that it had been almost completely overrun with wounded people. Some had nothing but cuts and bruises, others bleeding profusely. It hadn't taken long for them to be shoved into a side room and told to wait. The room was packed with others who were mostly lightly wounded and together they soon managed to get a corner to themselves. So, the six of them, seven counting Dark Shadow, had watched the one still working television.

They had seen the constantly blurry, static-laden footage of the battle. They had seen the images of All Might fighting All For One, though constantly the screen had died and they'd had to switch to long-range.

Hitoshi couldn't see them, but they were there. The two Fallen. It almost seemed as though the entire battlefield had been on fire, constantly exploding with earth being thrown into the air. But he knew that was them, the two impossible beings simply tearing through buildings, people, anything to kill one another.

Izuku had still been out. His body was healing still, and it was almost weird to watch as the cuts slowly stitched themselves back together.

He'd been out even when it had all ended.

When the camera had finally gotten close enough to see All Might smash All For One into the ground, even after being ran through, and then… then something weird had happened.

He felt as though he had blinked, and the world had… shifted.

Everyone had felt it. He looked to each of his friends, or at least sort-of friends in the cases of Katsuki and Ibara, and they all shared the same, strange, confused look. As if they had all suddenly and instantly woken up out of a sleep that had stolen over them. They weren't the only ones, as the other occupants of the room had seemed to act in the same, slightly drowsy manner with a strange, hushed murmuring coming over them all.

That was when Izuku had finally opened his eyes.

He had jolted upright, shocking everyone. He had been in a state of true panic for a moment, thrashing about and grabbing onto anyone he could reach. His eyes were wide, lost, and unfocused.

Hitoshi had been terrified. He had thought Izuku was long past that sort of mental break, and seeing the confused, afraid look in his eyes sent a shiver down his spine and chewing into his guts.

Finally, Izuku had come around, breathing deeply as Hitoshi had grabbed him into a hug.

He had almost asked something, possibly where they were, but then all their eyes were drawn to the TV.

And together, they watched as All Might stood, defiant and victorious, fist held high with the Archangel at his side, matching his movement.

Katsuki had been the first to copy the action, cheering in victory. Then Ibara, then Shoto, then Fumikage, then, with a glance to one another, Izuku and Hitoshi. Soon the entire room of hurt, injured, weary people were standing and cheering in one great motion of humanity.

Hitoshi had been smiling even, tears of relief lining his eyes, before he heard the words.

"Now, it's your turn."

He had heard Shoto sigh with relief and Katsuki proclaim how it was a message to them, personally. How now they, the students of UA, had to take up the mantel, and how he'd prove it as being the next number one. Ibara had clasped her hands together in reverent prayer. Even Fumikage had bowed his head in respect at the message sent by the greatest of heroes.

Hitoshi heard the echoing cries of joy, cheering, and defiant screams into the night that rushed through the hospital, and then the entire city, like a hurricane. It was life surviving. It was good triumphing over evil. It was humanity rising, phoenix-like from the ashes of devastation.

But Hitoshi didn't cheer. Neither did Izuku.

Together they sat, side by side, as they alone seemed to know what it all meant.

The age of All Might was done.

It was Hitoshi's turn now.

And the weight already made his shoulders ache.


He had been so close.

Tomura Shigaraki sat alone in the tiny, damp, dark room of their safehouse. The only light was the soft glow of the TV screen, showing rescue crews scurrying like ants over a devastation that was miles in length. And that was just the church.

He had been like this for some time. He had drunk very little and eaten less. His body arched from the inside at its lack of motion.

But inside his soul burned.

It burned because it had all been just within his grasp. Power. Power to make right the wrongs of the world. To punish those who had thrown him aside and abandoned him to the terror brought on by his own hands.

People who had rejected the spiritual world in favor of an idolator's culture, built around men like All Might.

That alone seemed to be the one golden, shining light in all of this. That All Might was dead. The man, Toshinori Yagi, was still alive, but he was nothing more than a revenant walking. In a strange way, he had become an odd mirror of his Sensei.

A skeleton, still moving, speaking, and thinking. But a skeleton, nonetheless.

Sensei…

Tomura's fingers curled tightly around the blanket wrapped over his shoulders. His clothes were old clothes, dirty and worn, and completely black. Sensei wouldn't approve, but Sensei wasn't there. Not anymore. His subtle, but firm guidance. His power, which had always been felt even in his words, no longer lifted Tomura to his feet or pushed him forward.

His loss was an aching wound inside him.

But just as bad was Father's absence. Without Father to cast his brilliant light, it felt foolish to wear the robes of black and burning red. Without Father, everything felt… dull, gray, and lifeless. All food tasted like ash and all liquids like tar. Without Father, there was nothing but the absence of emotion, of feeling, of life.

A great, yawning emptiness where even his own apathy should be.

All of it felt like an odd dream. The church, the preparations, even the night of the ritual where his future had been robbed from him. It was a distant life that wasn't his, yet one he still had memories of. He felt… disconnected. His soul felt twisted and raw and exposed within his heart.

Everything felt wrong.

And yet he felt… free.

Sensei was gone.

Father was gone.

There was no one left but himself and the few remaining Heralds who had survived the night.

Well, that was the other silver lining.

She was gone.

He wasn't sure what had happened to her. Compress had said they had last seen her at the edge of the ritual, just as they had escaped into Kurogiri's gates. Dabi had claimed that in some of the news footage he could see her dead body, laying in some of the rubble, though the footage he pointed to was blurry and hardly definite proof.

Either way, she wasn't here. She wasn't in the safehouse, and for that at least he felt something other than cold emptiness.

He felt the bitter joy of relief that his rival for ascension was dead.

She had to be dead. What else could have happened to her in all that madness?

"Master Tomura."

He turned his head slowly and saw the familiar form of Compress standing in the doorway to the otherwise pitch-black room. The soft glow of the screen reflected oddly on his twisting mask. In one hand he held what looked like an open box of microwave noodles.

"What do you want?"

"Magne wishes you to eat. I do too. I am still bound by contract to you, and it is my duty to make sure you don't die, even of your own neglect."

Tomura was silent for a moment before his eyes narrowed and he looked away. "You're all I have left, huh? A stupid fanatic, a nihilistic arsonist and two soulless demons."

"You forgot Jin," Compress announced as he moved further into the room. He brushed aside some uneaten fast food, which was really starting to smell, and placed the noodles down beside Tomura. "He is here too. Legion still torments him, of course, but I believe the War in Toyko has sated their bloodlusts for now."

Tomura kept silent.

Compress straightened up and moved back behind him, though to Tomura's irritation, he didn't leave.

"… what?"

"Why are you behaving like this?"

The question shocked Tomura. Compress, out of every demon Tomura had ever met, was polite to a fault, even more so than Kurogiri. He had always been calm, loyal, and ready to do whatever was asked of them.

"What's with the attitude, huh?" The man snapped as he turned his head, his red eyes practically glowing in the dim light. "Aren't you supposed to be serving me?"

"Serving, yes. Protecting, yes. But there is nothing in my contract that requires me to be polite. And now that Lord Satani is no longer here to baby you, I no longer feel the need to play the happy butler."

Tomura's rage boiled inside him. How… dare this pathetic, meager demon stand there and insult him! Father never babied him! Father carved signs into his flesh, beat him from pillar to post, made him hurt, torture and kill others to prove his worth!

Father… Father…

"You don't know what you're talking about." Tomura hissed, turning and getting to his feet, the blanket falling from his shoulders. He was illuminated in the dark by the faux light of the TV, making him seem even more thin and ethereal. "Father never-"

"Lord Satani wanted to use you for no other reason than their own selfish ambitions. You saw the result of that ritual, yes? The devastation it caused?"

Tomura stopped suddenly. He had seen it. On the TV they had shown the vast crater where the church had once been. A huge hole, perfectly cut into the ground, as if something had exploded and expanded outwards at its epicenter, obliterating everything it had touched until it had receded back.

Nothing had survived that blast. All For One's body had been disintegrated.

But… he would have been in the very center had he not been made to escape. He would have been consumed by whatever it was that had happened. Some survivors reported seeing a sun blooming into existence. Others had spoke of a terrible, yawning darkness that was like the opening of Hell's eye.

Not one recount was quite like another.

"It's because it failed. It's because I wasn't there to-"

"It failed because it was never designed to succeed. Lord Satani's goal was obvious in the end. All they wanted was to kill their sibling, the King. Everything they ever did was to complete that goal. You, Sensei, the Heralds. Everything was for them and them alone. That is what they were, and still are, Tomura Shigaraki. They are lust, they are desire, they are want. And wants only ever serve the self."

Tomura's body was shaking with anger, and yet he didn't have the energy to march over to the demon and disintegrate the body he was standing in. He felt… sick, twisted, and wrong. He felt a headache coming on, and his tongue felt dry, and his eyes burned and-

He felt those things. All those things.

The numbness was fading.

"So, what?" He finally hissed. "So, are you going to kill me to escape your contract? Are you going to go back to Hell, to find some other fool's soul to steal?"

"No." Compress shook their masked head. "Not at all. I am still here to protect you, as my contract demands. However, I must tell you." And they took a step forward. It was so confident and fearless that Tomura almost took a step back. The demon's presence was disturbing, as all demons were. It made his skin crawl at their nearness and hell-touched air. "Things are changing. Lord Satani saw that, and I see it too, but they were blinded by their selfishness. They believed the change was a reordering of Hell's hierarchy, but they're wrong. The change is coming here, to all of us. They were also wrong about you."

Tomura kept his gaze, his fingers itched to reach out and touch the demon. To see their body turn to ash and their blighted spirit to be banished back to hell.

But… Father wasn't there anymore. Neither was Sensei. They certainly would have demanded this disrespect be paid in blood.

But Tomura? Tomura would hear him out.

He was not them, after all, and they were no longer here to punish his disobedience.

"Fate surrounds you, Tomura Shigaraki. It calls your name and caresses your skin as it does with Himiko Toga, as it does with Prince Nemesis."

"Did." Tomura suddenly reminded the demon. "It did surround that bitch. Now she's dead."

"You really think so?" Compress chuckled at the notion. "I have my doubts."

The casual comment made his skin crawl once again. She couldn't have survived, she couldn't have stolen the glory that was his destiny. She couldn't have arisen, or they surely would have seen it.

And yet there had been no body…

"Eat your food, Tomura Shigaraki. Drink something, get a shower, and pull yourself together." The demon turned away and began walking towards the door. "It is time for you to start taking the true steps towards your destiny."

"And you know what that is?" Tomura spat. "I'm not going to follow some stuck-up demon in a stupid mask."

"Actually, I have no idea what your destiny is, only you can know that." Compress called as they reached the door. "But you are free now. Free to decide for yourself what that means. One thing I do know for sure, is that you are part of the ending of this era of the world." He paused and glanced over his shoulder. "And you'll do it as a human."


Home.

It was supposed to be a place of comfort. Of warmth and safety. A place he could return to and feel as though everything would be alright, if only for a short time. He could lay his head down on his own pillow and sleep until all his problems went away.

It was an illusion of course. Being home didn't really change anything, but it would at least make him feel a bit better.

But all Izuku felt, as he sat onto his bed, was emptiness.

After the battle, he and his friends had finally been seen by a doctor, and once they had realized who he was, they had taken him quickly into custody. After a long and grinding series of questions, followed by a doctor's checkup, he had been cleared to return home. They had all been cleared, though Izuku had only found that out via the group text.

Of course, he wasn't completely healed. Even his own accelerated gifts took time, and he sported all new patches and band-aids up and down his arms. They had threatened stitches, but Izuku had convinced them he'd be fine.

But all that was just physical pain.

There was nothing he could do for what he felt on the inside.

He knew Lucifer was gone. He had known even before Azrael had dropped in on him, along with his mother.

He could… feel it somehow, in his very soul.

The King of Hell had been taken, and he would probably never see him again.

Azrael hadn't cried delivering the news, but neither had he seemed utterly untouched. Instead, he had seemed… resolute, as if this was all part of some great plan he only had assurances was working as ordained.

Inko had of course burst into tears and grabbed him into a hug so tight he thought his ribs might break. That was fine though. His mother's hugs were the best, and at least he still had her. Together they had held one another for a long time, without speaking.

What could be said?

What was stranger, at least to Izuku, was that even he if knew that Lucifer was gone, he didn't find tears coming to his eyes.

He felt far more upset at the fact that now All Might was gone.

He knew it would be destroying Hitoshi. The teenager wouldn't reveal it openly, but Izuku knew his best friend. He knew how he guarded his emotions well, and how deeply those emotions ran.

Hitoshi would mourn the loss of the Symbol of Peace privately.

The strange, empty, confusing hole inside him where Lucifer had previously been was… something he couldn't process. Something he didn't want to process because he was scared of what it might mean.

For now, he would lock that away.

For now, he was here.

Sitting in his gloomy room with nothing but the crystal-clear memories of the last forty-eight hours playing on a loop inside his mind.

He had no idea what the death toll was, but he knew it would be high.

And it was all… it was all on him. It was all his fault.

Nemesis moved in his blood, the welcome warmth of his other-self giving some relief to his still exhausted muscles.

"Father did what they could. We are alive because of them."

"That doesn't make it right." He whispered to himself. It had been a long time since he'd had this kind of one-on-one conversation with Nemesis.

He fell onto his side, the mattress bouncing from his weight. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone, but he didn't click it on.

Rather, he propped it up on the desk across from his pillow and looked to his own reflection.

Nemesis looked back. Eyes jet black, pupils blazing green.

Their expression, however, was the same. A sort of muted, emotionless blank that teetered on the edge of a hundred pits.

At any moment that expression could become anger, sorrow, fear, loss. It could become a crowing victorious snarl or a guilty downcast frown.

It could become anything.

"Azrael said he wasn't really gone. Just in heaven."

"They are no longer here though." Nemesis replied through Izuku's lips. "So, what does that mean for us?"

"It means… I don't know." He replied honestly, for what else could he say? Lucifer had taught him much in the short time they had been together, and already he was regretting not asking for more. Not spending more time with him. Not… not being kinder to him.

"Lucifer deserved our anger. They always did. Do not forgive their sins from their one good deed."

"Uuugh." Izuku buried his face in his hands and curled up, his tail whipping hard onto the bed. "I'm so fucking… what am I supposed to do? What the fuck am I supposed to feel about this?"

"We do not know. But we are alive." Nemesis replied with a ghost of azure flame along his dull scars. "And we have mother. We have Azrael. We have our friends and allies. And if she survived, perhaps, we may have our cousin."

Izuku looked through his fingers at that. In the madness of what had happened, he had almost completely forgotten about Himiko. From what Azrael had told him, the ritual seemed to have gone off, it was what had prompted Gabriel's arrival.

Izuku hated not being there for that. He felt as though he had been cheated from his final goodbyes, but people didn't get to say goodbye so easily, not in real life.

And Izuku knew he was not someone who could ever play by the rules of others, the rules of humans. He was caught between having their emotions, their capacity for love, and yet dealing with the utterly ruthless, cruel, and purposely distant world of the celestials.

He had all their brutal realities, with none of the casual heartlessness to defend himself with.

But Himiko… if she had truly survived…

"Do… do you think she did?"

"We do not know. We were not there, after all." The mirror-Nemesis shrugged, and Izuku felt his own shoulders copy the act. "But…" Their eyes narrowed. "We would like to believe we are no longer unique. After all, if Himiko has risen to our ranks, then she too has lost a father. Perhaps it is part of the pattern." They grinned suddenly. "Besides, we have a fight to resolve."

Izuku couldn't help but roll his eyes. Then, with some effort from his still aching body, he shifted away from his phone. His inner self got the message and faded from the forefront of his thoughts.

But they were still there. Still a warm flame through their aching limbs. Still a comforting shadow-black swirling within their soul. There was a strength in that darkness. They were the son of Hell, the child of the celestial who had shaken the universe. They were strong, strong enough to rise above this, to learn from it, to keep going.

Within his blood was the strength to overcome.

Lucifer was gone, but somehow, he knew that he had not simply surrendered without a fight. Somehow, he knew his father had not done making sure that his son rose to become the Morningstar Reborn.

He hadn't known Lucifer for that long, but he knew him well enough to know that the King of Hell didn't just give up or sink into despair when things looked bleak. Even at his very weakest, Lucifer had challenged the might of a Fallen with the power to corrupt anything they came near.

And they had fought to give Izuku the chance to escape.

He would never let that knowledge fade. The knowledge that Lucifer had done that for him, despite all the blood and death that had come with it. It would be selfish and wrong to ignore that sacrifice and the sacrifice of others made just to keep him safe.

Before he finally faded into an exhausted sleep that he chose, rather than needed, Izuku vowed quietly to himself.

He would make this count. He would make this right.

Lucifer's sacrifice, the sacrifice of All Might, the sacrifice of everyone who had died in the War of Tokyo, would not be in vain.


Nedzu stood, looking out the window of his office.

The day was bright, sunny, lively. The perfect summer's day.

The mood inside the room, however, couldn't have been bleaker.

Toshinori sat almost head to toe in bandages. His thin, gaunt expression was now a final, permanent status. The world had found out that All Might, the Symbol of Peace, was nothing more than a shattered man, barely holding onto life. He had given his farewell speech only yesterday and had thanked the nation and the world for their support over the years.

A nation was in mourning. Flowers already lined the walls of UA from well wishes trying to give their support. Nedzu, however, thought it was all a little much. The man wasn't dead, just retired.

Though… All Might was dead, and he supposed he couldn't blame the people for being… worried.

"So, what now?"

The small bear-mouse turned his head, beady black eyes fixing onto Aizawa. The man sported his own bandages, though next to All Might he seemed ready to run a ten-mile race.

It was only the three of them in the room. Nedzu was going to meet the other teachers later, but for now, he simply wished to talk to the two men who were more informed than the rest of the staff.

After all, they now knew he had built UA, the most prestigious school in the country, with the help of the devil himself. He was quietly glad they were both injured. It meant they had less chance of beating him half to death.

"Well, that depends, doesn't it?" Nedzu replied in a calculated tone. "The world has been given a glimpse of what the future may be if we do not prepare."

"Prepare? How can we prepare against them?" Aizawa snapped, the cold anger in his tone rising slowly to the fore. "Two of those… things had a grudge match that leveled a quarter of Tokyo. The only reason they didn't destroy the entire city is because Hokori was trying to keep his sibling pinned."

"Lucifer." Nedzu quietly corrected. "Not Hokori. That was just the name he gave us."

"He was the devil." Aizawa pressed again. "The devil, Nedzu. And you were working with him. You knew what he was, and you kept him here."

"How did you… nevermind." Toshinori had started, but his words trailed away. "It doesn't matter how you met. But what does matter is the safety of this school and the safety of those students. Did you promise us to him or something? Was that your deal?"

"Nothing so trite," Nedzu replied with a shrug before starting to walk casually past the two and back towards his desk. "He would have never accepted a deal like that anyway. That wasn't his style."

"So, you did sell your soul to him," Aizawa asked, his voice dark.

Nedzu paused for a long moment, before continuing to his chair, climbing onto it and settling in. "And if I did?"

"Why?" Toshinori snapped suddenly, and Nedzu sensed a flicker of that old, unstoppable power from within the man. The embers were gone, but that spirit, the spirit of a true hero, was not.

"Because without him, this school would not exist." Nedzu placed his paws together and leaned back, the old leather creaking as he did. "Simply put, of course. Without his money, his influence, his backing, this school and everything we have accomplished would never have happened. Yes, I sold my soul to him, and one day I expect he'll come and collect. But in the meantime, I have created a hero factory capable of putting out new, well trained, well equipped heroes every year." His eyes narrowed as he looked between the two shocked men. "All Might is gone, but that only means that instead of one pillar holding up society, we now need dozens. Dozens that will be supplied by this school, year after year, until this nation and the world is safe."

"… but why?" Toshinori asked quietly. "Why do all of this?"

"Other than it being the right thing to do?" Nedzu allowed a small smile to cross his lips. "Because Lucifer needed a safe place for his son. A safe place for him to learn how to fight and study and grow into someone who can take his father's place. Or at least, that's what I suspect. He never told me what he wanted, but the pieces came together once I learned who Izuku Midoriya's family really was."

There was a sudden silence in the room, one heavy with the realization of everything that had come, and everything that may yet still pass.

"If you wish to leave, you can. I won't stop you."

"… Izuku is the son of Lucifer." Aizawa paused, then sighed slowly. "It's not his fault, and from what I've seen the apple has fallen pretty far from the tree."

"We can't blame him for the sins of his father."

"But what about the other students? Is it safe for them?" Aizawa looked back to Nedzu. "I won't blame Izuku or treat him differently, but I will protect my class from any corrupting influence."

"As far as I know, Izuku isn't corruptive. He only learned about his parentage recently. The other students should all be as safe as they would have been before… in fact." Nedzu paused, then reached under his desk and opened a drawer. "I intend to make them safer."

He pushed the file towards the men, and Toshinori reached out to take it.

Opening it, his eyes read the first line, written in large, blocky letters.

"U.A. Heights?"

"The world is changing. Lucifer knew that, and he knew Izuku was only the start. I believe the future will be… challenging for us all, which means greater emphasis must be placed on our students. We must push them harder, and to do that, I believe it's time I implemented a plan I've long considered.

"A dorm system?" Aizawa raised an eyebrow at the headmaster. "You want them to live on campus?"

"You've both learned that there are more dangerous things out there than just villains. And these beings, both from below and above are going to draw closer to our world. Lucifer always believed this would be the case. It may take a hundred years, it may only be a handful, but the divisions between the world of men and the worlds beyond are growing thin." Nedzu sighed softly, but his eyes were cold, hard, and determined. "It is time we prepare for the future, gentleman. If we do not, I fear not just for my soul, but for all our souls."


I can already hear a few of you asking 'WHERE'S HIMIKO?'. Well, her story isn't over, but we're gonna have to let her recover for the time being. When will she show up again? Not telling, but a fair few of you can probably guess.

Tomura has been set free, and Compress seems to have taken Satani's place, but is clearly a more... focused guide, and certainly less controlling. Izuku wonders about the future, and what it could mean to lose his dad, and Hitoshi considers the same... ish. And of course, Aizawa and Toshi confront Nedzu on being a bad, bad little bear-mouse-dude. But the big focus was obviously the celestials talking about what happened, and what's possibly coming next. It seems Heaven, or at least the Archangels, are starting to catch onto the feeling of change in the world.

My personal favourite moment, however, was All Might refusing Azrael's help to stand. It kinda just shows how him, representing human kind, can stand on their own, and that perhaps the Archangels need to remember that they aren't always as weak as they assume.

BUT ANYWAY. Moving on, next chapter we focus back onto Izuku and work through some motherly rage. Lucy's wrath was scary, but even Lucy would cower at Inko's fury. Keep safe everyone, keep healthy, and I'll cya next time!