The aftermath of the war left the sky a muted, lifeless gray. The once-vibrant blue horizon, which had framed the city's skyline in hope and promise, was now swallowed by a blanket of fog and ash. What had once been a beacon of life and vitality was now a wasteland. Buildings stood like broken teeth, jagged and crumbling, their facades shattered by the battles that had ravaged the world. The streets, once bustling with the echoes of busy citizens, were barren save for the occasional gust of wind that swept through the ruins.

A cold wind whipped through the isolated town, tugging at scraps of cloth and paper that lay scattered across the cracked concrete. It carried with it the faint echoes of a happier time — distant laughter, the hum of daily life, the soft murmur of peace long lost. Each breeze felt like a breath from a forgotten past, a past that this world could barely remember.

In a quiet corner, tucked away from the devastation, stood a memorial. It wasn't grand or ornate — it didn't need to be. A simple stone, stood as a silent testament to the heroes who had given everything for a world that no longer seemed to appreciate their sacrifice. Flowers of every color were laid at its base, their vibrant hues striking against the backdrop of devastation, though the flowers themselves seemed out of place here — too fresh for a place so forgotten.

Etched into the cold surface of the stone were the names of those heroes, each one a life lost in the pursuit of peace. But there was one name that stood out among them. "Izuku Midoriya." The letters were bold, carved with an intensity that mirrored the weight of his sacrifice. The words spoke of a hero who had given everything, a beacon of hope extinguished too soon.

--

In another world, in a time not so distant, the city was alive. Vibrant colors painted the streets with a riot of activity, the scent of food vendors and the sounds of street musicians filling the air. The people laughed, unaware of the dangers that lurked just beyond their peaceful lives. It was a day like any other, and the students of U.A. were out on patrol, their presence both a reassurance and a reminder of the heroes who watched over the city.

Izuku Midoriya walked alongside Uraraka, their conversation light. His green eyes sparkled, filled with the optimism that had carried him through countless battles. "I still can't believe how much things have changed," he said, glancing up at the towering buildings.

"Yeah," Uraraka replied with a smile. "But at least it's quieter now. I could get used to this kind of patrol." Her words were warm, her tone playful, but there was an undercurrent of tension. Even in times of peace, heroes could never truly relax.

Their conversation was abruptly cut short by a piercing scream. The sound was sharp, filled with panic, and it sent a jolt of adrenaline through Deku's veins. His muscles tensed as he instinctively turned towards the source.

"What was that?" Uraraka asked, but Deku was already moving, his legs carrying him forward.

"I don't know, but it sounds urgent!" His voice echoed back as he dashed toward the source, his mind already calculating the fastest route.

When they arrived at the scene, the chaos was immediate. A child, no older than ten, stood in the center of the turmoil. Her small frame was dwarfed by the storm of debris that swirled around her, sucked into the tiny black holes that blinked in and out of existence like miniature portals. The energy crackled in the air, bending reality itself as buildings shook and windows shattered in the wake of the child's uncontrolled quirk.

Witnesses were screaming, some running for cover while others tried in vain to pull the child's mother away from the chaos. The woman was frantic, her cries of desperation blending into the racket of destruction.

Deku's instincts kicked in before he could even process the situation. "Stay back!" he shouted to Uraraka, who nodded, as she prepared to evacuate the bystanders.

He didn't hesitate, vaulting over chunks of rubble, dodging the storm of debris with a grace that came only from years of battle. As he neared the child, his heart pounded in his chest, each beat faster than the last. This quirk... it was unlike anything he had ever seen. The portals pulsed with energy, growing larger by the second, and in the center of it all, the girl reached out toward him, her eyes wide with terror.

"It's okay!" he called to her, his voice steady despite the chaos. "I'm going to help you!"

But before he could get any closer, the ground beneath him shifted. A larger portal, its edges dark and swirling with energy, materialized before him. It loomed in front of him, and he barely had time to react before it pulled him in. The world around him twisted, the familiar city streets melting away into nothingness. His last sight was Uraraka's panicked face as the portal swallowed him whole.

--

When Izuku regained consciousness, he was lying on cold, hard ground. His body ached as though he had been thrown across space itself. He groaned softly, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. One moment, he had been in the middle of a rescue, and now...

His eyes slowly adjusted to his new surroundings. The world around him was unrecognizable. The vibrant city that had been beaming with life was gone, replaced by a landscape of ruins and ash. Buildings stood as skeletal remnants of their former selves, their once grand structures now crumbling and lifeless. The sky was a dull, oppressive gray, and the air was thick with the smell of smoke and decay.

"What... happened?" His voice was barely a whisper as he staggered to his feet, his legs trembling under the weight of his confusion. He scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of life, but there was none. It was as if the world had been abandoned long ago.

Then, his eyes caught something. In the distance, standing out against the bleak landscape, was a small structure. It was bright, unnervingly so, its colors almost too vivid for this world. Drawn to it, he stumbled forward, his heart pounding in his chest.

As he neared the structure, recognition dawned. It was a memorial, almost identical to the one that had been made after the war. His pulse quickened as he approached, a sense of foreboding settling in his stomach. And then he saw it.

His name.

"Izuku Midoriya."

Carved into the stone with the same bold letters that marked the fallen heroes.

His breath caught in his throat as the realization hit him like a freight train. He was dead.

"What... is this place?"

Questions flooded his mind as the weight of the moment sank in. Where was he? Where was Uraraka? The girl with the quirk? Nothing made sense. And in this twisted, broken world, Izuku Midoriya stood alone, facing a memorial that mourned the death of a hero who was still very much alive — or was he?