Dr Garaki's fingers twitched as he looked at the girl asleep on the couch, the girl High Street had stolen from the Shie Hassakai. Her very presence was a testament to how far their plan had sunk.

"You were supposed to return with bullets, and instead, you bring me… her?" Garaki's voice cracked with frustration, his patience eroding with every word. Day after day passed, and with each one, the weight of inevitable failure weighed heavier.

The man before him was supposed to be his salvation, that was what was promised, the key to ultimate victory after lifetimes of being on the losing side. But instead of progress, he kept being met with silence, mystery, and now, a child.

"Are you losing focus, High Street?" Are you losing sight of what we're trying to accomplish here?!" Garaki's voice rose, but there was an edge of desperation creeping in as he grabbed High Street's arm. "What happened to the legacy you promised me?"

High Street barely acknowledged the outburst, his fingers clenched tightly around his forearm, wincing as the agony of his false quirk surged through him, a relentless burning reminder of the poison inside.

"Keep your voice down," he growled through gritted teeth, "That child might be our only chance."

"'Might'?" Garaki's suspicion deepened. "We need certainty, not speculation! Surely you thought to use Potential?"

High Street didn't answer. He simply sank into a chair across from the girl, his expression pained. The silence was louder than anything he could have said.

A sickening realisation settled in Garaki's stomach, his hands clenching into fists. "You can't use it, can you?" he accused, stepping closer. "You can't use it anymore! You've lost control of the very thing that made you valuable! You have no idea what you're doing!"

High Street's movements were swift, too swift for a man in his condition. In the blink of an eye, his hand was wrapped around the doctor's throat, squeezing just enough to remind him of who held the power here.

"I told you… keep your voice down." High Street snarled. He leaned in close, his grip tightening as the venom in his words matched the poison in his veins. "Don't forget, doctor, this is your fault. Potential led me to you. To your experiments and your false promises. To your fake copy of this corrupted quirk."

The moment he spoke those words, the pain surged through him again, violent and unforgiving. His grip faltered, and he released Garaki, stumbling back with a growl of frustration.

Garaki gasped for breath, clutching his throat. "So you're implying that your 'great potential' needed all of these failures?" He looked at High Street with contempt, "Look at yourself, for God's sake. Your quirk is killing you. Most of your allies have abandoned you. Who's left? Quiller Killer and myself? And now – now you're clinging on to some pathetic hope that she might be your final chance?"

For a moment the only sound in the room was the faint, rhythmic breathing of the girl asleep on the couch.

High Street stared at her and took a laboured breath, "I don't need hope," he said quietly, almost to himself. "I need results. And she… She's the last thread I have left. If this doesn't work…"

Garaki wiped away the sweat from his brow, shifting his gaze uneasily between High Street and the girl. He couldn't bring himself to believe in the sliver of hope that High Street was clinging to. But what scared him most was that he, too, had nothing left.

"We need to wake her," Garaki muttered. "Time is of the essence."

High Street's gaze never left the girl, everything was riding on this. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, shaking his head. "We can't, not yet. The Yakuza were keeping her sedated for a reason, waking her prematurely could be problematic. When she wakes up naturally she'll already be disoriented. Confused. We wouldn't get any sense out of her this way."

"Disoriented or not, we don't have time to waste," Garaki frowned, growing ever impatient. "If she's our key to survival, we need her awake and working."

With a reluctant sigh, High Street rose from his seat and knelt beside the girl, brushing a strand of silver hair away from her face, gently stroking his thumb against her cheek. Her eyelids began to flutter at the touch, and slowly, she stirred.

The girl blinked awake, her large, red eyes filled with uncertainty and fear as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings, the glass walls so unlike where she went to sleep, the two strange men looming over her. Instincts made her shrink away, pressing herself into the couch as if in hope she could disappear into it.

"Good morning," High Street in a soft tone, a false smile plastered on his face. The art of charm had taken him a long way, and he hoped that despite his condition he could still wield it as successfully as ever. "You've had a long nap, how are you feeling, Eri?"

She didn't respond right away, staring at him, wide-eyed and trembling.

"We're not going to hurt," he continued in the same soothing voice. "Those other men hurt you, didn't they?"

Eri slowly nodded her head, never taking her eyes off of him.

"They won't be able to hurt you again, I made sure of it. We just need a little help from you. Your quirk… It's very special, isn't it?"

The trembling girl flinched further at the mention of her quirk, and she shook her head frantically, moving to the other end of the couch as far away from the strange man as she could. Eri didn't have much in the way of life experience, but she knew when someone couldn't be trusted. "I-I don't, I don't want to…"

High Street's smile didn't falter, and he crouched down further to the floor in an attempt to make himself appear less threatening. "It's alright, Eri. I just want to know what your quirk does. Can you tell me?"

In her quietest voice, as though saying it out loud gave it power, Eri said, "I… I make people go away."

"Go away, huh?" High Street's eyes lit up with interest. "That's a very interesting quirk. Tell me…" He leaned in closer, keeping his voice soft, but there was an edge to it now, "Can you make just part of someone… go away?"

Eri froze, clenching the fabric of her dress. Her breath quickened and the terror in her eyes grew. She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She just shrank further into herself, shaking her head, her entire body trembling.

They didn't have time for this. High Street, usually so capable of biding his time, was finding his patience wearing as thin as the doctor's. And there was the pressure building inside of him, the volatile mixture of stolen, broken quirks surging just below the skin. He straightened up, letting out a slow and frustrated exhale. "We don't have time for this."

High Street turned towards Garaki, who looked at him with fierce expectation. "Find out how the quirk works. And if she won't cooperate, do it the hard way."

"The hard way?"

"Extract the quirk." High Street said coldly. "Whatever it takes, I don't care how you do it, just get it done."

Garaki's eyes widened slightly, the mad scientist in him itching to make the preparations. "You're certain? Her quirk could be quite… Dangerous." He asked, with a flicker of amusement.

High Street's voice was hard, "Whatever it takes." He straightened to his full height, still nursing the pain in his body and he walked towards the balcony. Eri was shaking like a leaf, her wide, frightened eyes pleading for them to let her go. But there was no turning back now.

Before Garaki could move in, High Street looked over his shoulder.

"Don't kill her."

Garaki paused.

"She's too useful," High Street added. His eyes lingered on Eri for a moment longer before he turned again. Eri reminded him of another child he had once taken under his wing, moulded, used. She too was filled with so much potential, so much promise. But she left him.

Eri, though… Eri might still prove herself.

"Just ensure she survives, " High Street finished. "We'll need her."

—

Though he still couldn't fathom just how vital Dr Garaki would be to his final, inevitable triumph, High Street had no choice but to leave the doctor to his work. Exhaustion gnawed at him, and he could only cling to the hope that the visions Potential granted him were inching ever closer to reality. With slow, deliberate footsteps, he passed by the gleaming bay windows of his penthouse, the reflection showing a man whose endless pursuit of power had left him stretched thin, like a balloon ready to burst.

As he stepped onto the balcony, the cool morning air brushed against his face but it did nothing to soothe the tension echoing beneath his skin. High Street leaned heavily against the steel railing and stared out at the sprawling city below, lights blinking in the distance as life moved on. With a weary sigh, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a worn notebook - his ledger of targets, their names scribbled hastily as his quirk offered them to him, each page a stepping stone on his path to domination. The page he opened to was Garaki's, circled in red. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what might've been if that name had been crossed out instead.

"Come on… Work." High Street squeezed his eyes shut, willing his quirk to activate. Deep within, he reached for that familiar spark, that power which has guided him through so many of his victories. Potential had always answered without hesitation, but ever since Garaki had given him All For One, (a name he still refused to fully explain), there had been… Nothing. No flash of insight, no flood of possible futures. Just emptiness. Was it the other quirks clashing inside him, their noise drowning out Potential's answers? Or had the future simply run out of surprises?

A sharp, searing pain ripped through his arms, pulling him back to the present. The notebook slipped from his fingers and dropped to the ground as he gripped the rails in agony, the pain blazing, spreading up his spine and igniting every nerve in fiery torment.

And then, he heard a scream.

—

It happened at 8 am. Dr. Garaki stood over Eri inside the small laboratory, his eyes gleaming with a sort of twisted, triumphant excitement. His hunched figure loomed closer as he tapped the scalpel against his hand, the metal glinting in the light.

"A fascinating specimen." Garaki's voice dripped. "The quirk gene is fragile, resting within a delicate cluster of nerves at the base of the skull. Whoever was making your bullets was an amateur fool, they could have had an unlimited supply without any of the messy logistics of keeping you alive." Eri's heart pounded in her chest, fear bubbling up inside her like a storm she couldn't contain.

"Most people think quirks are these mythical gifts, but I know they're nothing more than a biological glitch – a flaw that can be fixed with the right tools and knowledge."

Eri's eyes widened as she shook her head, "Please… Don't…"

Garaki ignored her pleas, his eyes distant as he continued. "My old master, there was a time he was on the verge of death, and I had a choice, you see. I could either save him, or his quirk."

He paused, his expression growing serious, almost reverent. "I chose the quirk."

The trembling girl ahead of him felt her blood run cold.

"Why save a man who could die at any moment, when his power, the very essence of his BEING, could live on forever?! Oh, I tried little one, to place it into new vessels. It took me more than a dozen failed attempts before I could even get close. All For One wasn't like the other quirks, it required more than just the gene to function properly. It was tied to his body, his mind, his very soul."

His eyes darkened, and he gripped the scalpel tighter, the memory of those failures fresh in his mind. "Do you know what happens when you try to insert a quirk into a body that can't handle it? They die."

Tears welled up in Eri's eyes as she squirmed in the chair, "Why…are you telling me this?"

Garaki's smile returned, colder this time. "Because your quirk is dangerous in the hands of a child, it's a disaster waiting to happen. But in the right hands, in my hands, it could be the key to restoring what was lost."

"High Street is a moron who doesn't understand how your quirk operates, he thinks of it as a delete button, but I know it's far more complex." He continued, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "Imagine it, no more limitations, no more mortality. I could bring my master back, not just his quirk, but him. I could restore him to his prime… or better yet, make him even stronger."

He leaned down, inches from her, his cold eyes boring into her. "And all I have to do is extract your quirk from that tiny cluster of nerves at the base of your skull."

The second Garaki's hand touched Eri's arm, the scalpel held aloft, and her nervous system unleashed a powerful fight-or-flight response. It was loud, instantaneous, and phenomenally destructive.

A strange warmth spread from her horn, buzzing and pulsing, a sensation she hadn't felt since it first manifested – A power she had willingly kept at bay. She didn't mean to activate it, not to this extent, but fear did the work for her. Energy within her surged as she clutched her head in fright, and screamed.

Dr Garaki had no time to be shocked, his menacing words were immediately cut short, replaced by a single sharp intake of breath. He felt it in his hands first, his skin unwrinkling, tightening unnaturally over his bones, his muscles weakening as he became lightheaded before finally, the light in his eyes went out. His clothes fell limp, his hands withered, then his face, and within seconds he was nothing but a ghastly assortment of clothes hovering momentarily in the air before fluttering to the floor, now nothing but piles of cotton and loose fabric.

Eri's breath caught in her throat as she shook her head from side to side, "No, no, no!" she repeated to herself, "Not again, not again!"

But it wasn't over. The penthouse walls groaned and cracked under sudden and intense pressure, and the windows that had lined the building moments before seemed to shimmer, the glass warping and twisting in reverse. With a loud crack, the panes splintered into sand, blowing away with the wind. The polished masonry and brickwork that once supported the structure started to crumble, shifting into jagged, primitive stone, bricks became rough and uncut, and the cement between them vanished as if it had never been applied.

The entire high-rise building began to shift and tremble.

FWABOOM

A violent shattering explosion ripped through the penthouse as two points in time collided, the world around them folding against itself as gas lines ruptured. Eri screamed again, collapsing to the floor as the tremors of destruction rippled out from around her. Everywhere Rewind touched, time peeled. Electrical wiring was exposed, fraying as the copper turned brittle, and the steel beams supporting the roof buckled and twisted, reverting to iron ore embedded within chunks of rock.

The concrete of the floor beneath her gave way, rewinding to an earlier form of raw composite materials, dissolving into loose gravel and dirt, and Eri shrieked, plummeting through the air as the building continued to revert into a past era. The sheer force of the collapse sent dust and debris swirling around her, but the fall wasn't as violent as it could have been.

In the chaos of her quirk's activation, Rewind continued to lash out. As she fell, the ground regressed further, changing into layers of soil and compacted earth from decades earlier. The surfaces, once solid concrete, dissolved into softer, less compacted ground, cushioning her descent. Instead of striking hard, she landed on dirt that had yet to be solidified.

In her terrified state, Rewind subconsciously rewound her own body as well. Her bones and muscles, strained from the fall, repaired themselves in the moments before damage could take hold. Even the bruises and scrapes that began to form disappeared in an instant, as her body reverted to a moment just before impact.

Residents of the apartments screamed in confusion as their surroundings shifted unnaturally, while others scrambled for the stairways, only to find them collapsing into dust and brittle wooden beams. Entire apartments disassembled around them, reverting to their primitive components, unrecognisable from the homes they had once known.

Emergency alarms blared as the structure continued to crumble, alerting the residents on the lower floors as people scrambled for fire escapes. It was luck that Eri was central to the building, but the further she descended the weaker the supports became – and fire was threatening to engulf the entire complex.

The power cut out as wires frayed and vanished into the walls, but the people had enough warning to make their way to the exits.

Eri hit the ground just as the final tremors rocked the foundation, dust and debris filling the air as the once sturdy building wobbled precariously. For now, it stayed standing, and Eri found herself in the centre of an empty lot surrounded by towering, creaking walls, a tornado of energy wrapped around her.

—

Detective Tsukauchi gripped the steering wheel tightly, his focus on the road ahead as the early morning chaos of the city buzzed around them. His jaw tightened as he heard another quiet swoosh from the passenger seat. His flamboyant companion was taking up more space than the car seemed capable of accommodating, his ridiculous purple ensemble practically spilling over the centre console.

From the corner of Tsukauchi's eye, he saw a swirl of vapour drifting toward the ceiling, in perfect smoke rings. Gentle sat twiddling his meticulously curled moustache.

"I must say," Gentle mused, "this all feels rather anticlimactic, wouldn't you agree?"

Tsukuachu sighed but kept his eyes on the road. He wasn't the type to break traffic laws, he was the one to teach All Might himself how to drive stick, after all. "What do you mean?"

Gentle gestured dramatically, sending another cloud of vapour toward the window. "We've traipsed across Hosu for what feels like an eternity, chasing ghosts, busting heads! And yet, someone else stumbles upon the very leak we were so desperately hunting! It all seems rather... unfair, doesn't it?"

With subtle irritation, not enough to shatter that calm stoicism he'd cultivated, Tsukauchi opened the passenger side window, letting the air in and dispersing the smoke. "First of all," he said, his voice even, "would you mind not vaping in my car?"

"Ah, quite right. A dreadful habit," Gentle agreed, sliding the device back into his sleeve with a flourish.

"And second," Tsukauchi continued, eyes still locked on the road, "I don't care who finds the villain. All that matters is that they're caught. We can't afford to get hung up on pride."

"But still–" Gentle began what was sure to be another grandiloquent monologue, but before he could continue, a deafening boom ripped through the air. The car shook violently, and the sound of shattering glass and wailing alarms followed in its wake. An explosion had torn through the heart of the city, not far from their intended destination.

Tsukauchi's expression hardened instantly as his hand flew to the radio. "This is Tsukauchi! Explosion near central Musutafu, in the vicinity of Espa Heights! Possible villain activity! Requesting rescue units immediately!"

Gentle's usual flamboyance dissolved in an instant, replaced by a rare look of genuine concern. He leaned forward and urgently pulled out his phone, raising it to his ear. His voice lost its usual performative flair. "La Brava, my dear!" he called into the device. "It seems I find myself in a bit of a pickle. It appears our dastardly foe has detonated some manner of explosive device. If fate should be unkind and we do not meet again, carry on our noble work. For the people, La Brava! Adieu!"

—

"Gentle?! GENTLE?!" Tears immediately began streaming down La Brava's face as she yelled down the phone, desperately clutching it with both hands. "Don't do it, Gentle! Not while I'm not there for you!" Her hands trembled as she held the phone, her heart racing.

Beyond the door of the key-carded room, the station erupted into chaos. Tsukauchi's call had sent the low-staffed team into a flurry of activity, more than they'd dealt with in recent memory. Desks were overturned, officers scrambled for orders, and urgent voices filled the space.

Still spiralling, La Brava barely registered the commotion around her. All she could think of was Gentle, out there, alone. She felt a steadying hand on her shoulder, its warmth cutting through the panic. "Gentle will be okay," Inko said, her voice soft yet carrying an unshakable confidence. She met La Brava's eyes with a calm assurance. "He's with Tsukauchi, remember? You can trust him. He's been a detective for a long time, I'm sure he's seen more than his fair share of danger."

"But what if something happens?!" La Brava's breath hitched as she fumbled with her phone, desperately pulling up Gentle's GPS. Her eyes locked onto the pulsing dot on the screen, fear gnawing at her insides. "I can't just sit here!"

Her expression hardening, Inko stood up straighter, her posture shifting from gentle reassurance to firm authority as her presence seemed to grow more commanding. "Aiba, listen to me," she said, her voice firm. "You can help him. But not by running out there." She gestured toward the laptop. "This is where you fight. Leak everything we have on The Market. Expose them and prevent High Street from ever doing anything like this again. That's how you help Gentle."

La Brava hesitated, her hands trembling, eyes wide. "But...but—"

Inko tightened her grip on her shoulder, grounding her. "If you want to protect him, protect the people. Use what you know. Shut them down for good. You're the only one who can do this."

For a heartbeat, La Brava froze, the weight of the choice pressing down on her like a physical force. Run to Gentle's side, or stay and fight in her own way? Her heart wavered, torn between love and duty. Then, with a sharp inhale, something clicked. "You're right. For the people. For Gentle!" Her fingers blurred across the keyboard, windows exploding onto the screen as her focus sharpened like a blade. High Street's network was about to unravel.

Across the room, Katia's eyes flicked to La Brava's phone, the glowing coordinates of Gentle's location reflected in her eyes. Without a word, she moved, swift and silent, her intent clear. She snatched Inko's keycard from her belt and sprinted out of the room, the door swinging shut in her wake.

"Katia, wait!" Inko called, but the younger woman was already gone, weaving through officers before anyone could stop her. She had the exact location of High Street now, and there was no chance of her waiting around for something to happen. Explosion or not, Diner had spent too long with that man to assume that would stop him.

Sansa and the other officers barely reacted before she disappeared around the corner, heading straight toward the storm of chaos that awaited her.

—

The atmosphere was no calmer a few blocks away at the Nighteye Agency, where preparations were well underway. The high-rise explosion had resulted in a citywide call to action amongst the heroes, and here was no different, the entire agency mobilising to respond. Among them were Togata, Midoriya and Kuri, moving quickly gathering equipment and listening to the hurried words among senior members of staff. In the centre of it all stood Sir Nighteye, directing everyone with his usual calm precision.

Izuku couldn't shake the growing feeling of apprehension in his chest, especially after being pulled into a mission yesterday. And now, with the city in danger again already, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be called into the field. He worked up the nerve and approached Sir Nighteye, and asked, "Sir, am I coming too? After yesterday–"

Nighteye glanced at him, light shimmering across his glasses. "All hands on deck, Midoriya. We'll need everyone we can get in a situation like this." He left no room for hesitation. "We might need you to help search for life signs in the rubble, so prepare yourself."

Nodding, Izuku hurried off to join the rescue team, his thoughts whirling with possibilities - but mingled with a quiet sense of acceptance. He'd proven himself yesterday, and this was just another opportunity to help.

As Nighteye resumed his commands, Centipeder approached him quietly, careful not to let others overhear. "Sir, will you be putting Midoriya and Togata together again for this mission?"

Nighteye's eyes flicked briefly toward where Togata was expertly redirecting junior sidekicks, sending them to their designated zones like a seasoned professional. "Should circumstances dictate, I would like for them to continue working closely. For now, however, Lemillion stays with me." He paused, the decision clear in his mind. "Place Midoriya with the rescue units. We need to maximise our resources."

"Understood," Centipeder nodded. "All Might has been informed of the crisis, and is on standby should we require him."

Nighteye nodded and glanced at his watch, an early morning event like this should mean Toshinori hadn't used up his time for the day, but hopefully, it would be a routine rescue and evacuation. Hopefully.

—

Over at Snipe's agency, the scene was no different. Snipe, standing tall with his wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over his masked face, raised his gloved hand to rally his team. "Alright, cowpokes! We got ourselves a real mess of a situation! Y'all are here for cover support—eyes and ears open! We ain't got a dang clue what caused that explosion, so it's on us to lock down the perimeter while the rescue teams work their magic!"

The sidekicks, in unison, tipped their hats toward Snipe as they continued loading their weapons, belts jangling with gadgets as they prepared for the day's work.

"Yamashita," Snipe called out, turning to one of his newest interns. His voice had that sharp crack of authority but remained oddly calm. "Ya sleep here last night?"

Miki rubbed the back of her neck, blinking away the remnants of her brief nap. "I did, I grabbed about a half hour this morning while Mei was working. I wasn't asleep for long, but I should have access to everything around the storage lockers."

Snipe's head tilted in a way that suggested a smile. "Think ya can grab us some med supplies?"

"I think so," Miki said, standing a little straighter. "But only if they can fit in my hand."

Snipe nodded approvingly, "If things get dicey out there, anything we can carry will be more'n welcome."

His attention shifted to Hatsume, who was hunched over, fiddling with a sleek metal cylinder in her hands. Her oversized goggles reflected the bright lights overhead as she made minute adjustments. "Hatsume," Snipe drawled, "ya got any projectiles on ya?"

Without hesitation, Mei smirked and then glanced up. With an air of theatricality she quite enjoyed performing, she yanked a strange, gun-shaped device from her belt and slid the cylinder into place. Instantly, the gadget hummed to life, blue LEDs lighting up like a Christmas tree.

Snipe blinked, or maybe he didn't. It was hard to tell behind the mask. "Right. Dumb question."

"This baby's a new prototype!" Mei beamed, twirling the gadget like an old gunslinger before holstering it. "Sixteen levels of severity, from 'mild inconvenience' to 'you ain't walking that off, bub!'"

With a final look at his team, Snipe pulled his hat down a little further. "Let's hope we don't need more than a couple levels, but I appreciate the enthusiasm. Alright, folks, it's time to mosey! Get through today in one piece, and there's a pizza party waiting for y'all!"

A resounding "Yeehaw!" echoed through the agency, sidekicks pumped and ready, adrenaline already flowing. With a final tip of his hat, Snipe led the charge as the team sprang into action, boots hitting the ground with purpose.

—

The once proud high-rise apartment building, Espa Heights, now swayed dangerously in the wind, its frame on the verge of collapse from all the recent damage. On the ground level, Sir Nighteye and his team were among the first responders, quickly setting up barriers and directing the evacuation. The primary obstacle was the intense storm of flashing lights and sound pulsing from the bottom floor, which was making it nearly impossible to get close.

"Sir," Centipeder began. "The walls and staircases are still intact, but they're barely holding on. It looks like there's evidence of a gas line explosion on the top floor. Massive."

Sir Nighteye's remained composed as he hurried another family away from the crumbling building. "Has anyone managed to get close to the ground floor?" he asked. Despite the urgency of the situation, he was as level-headed as possible.

"No, Sir." Centipeder shook his head, antennae twitching with unease, "It's almost as if there's a force pushing us back. The centre of the building, it's been…Well, hollowed out. We suspect the quirk user is down there, at the heart of it all."

Nighteye's expression remained unchanged, and with a single nod, he motioned for his interns. Izuku and Kuri had been knee-deep in disaster relief efforts, tending to the wounded and assisting medics. At Nighteye's call, they dropped their gear and hurried over. Right behind them, Mirio Togata joined the group, his usual bright demeanour shadowed by the gravity of the situation.

"Evacuation's going well, Sir," Togata reported with a crisp salute. "The buildings directly behind us are cleared, but there's this stubborn old lady with a dog taking her sweet time in the block on the left."

"We'll send someone in for her," Nighteye said firmly before his attention shifted back to the task at hand. "Midoriya, I need you to scan the building. Heat signatures, sounds. Anything you can pick up."

Izuku straightened with determination. "Right, I can do that. No problem." For a moment, he fumbled in his bag, before pulling out a sleek-looking pair of binoculars. Albeit a pair with a few more bells and whistles than they'd normally have. "I've been working on this since yesterday, I managed to recreate the life signs indicator I built into Deku. Only, this version is portable. After I used my quirk to check for signs, it seemed like a good idea to make one anyone could use."

Nighteye took the device, examining it briefly with an approving nod before handing it off to Togata. "Try it out."

"But, Sir…" Izuku continued, a little more hesitant as his voice wavered and he cast a worried glance up at the listing structure. "The building's barely holding together. Even if we can find people inside, it's too unstable to send anyone inside."

"Mr. Midoriya," Nighteye said, gazing down at him, voice firm. "When you are faced with impossible odds, a hero isn't defined by their power,'"

Izuku's demeanour hardened with realisation as he finished the quote, "'...But by how far they'll go to protect others, where the only true choice is to push forward with everything you've got.'"

Nighteye gave a firm nod. "All Might's interview from Hero Times Weekly, issue 147, page 12. And right now, the odds are steep, but we still have a job to do."

Next to them, Togata laughed. "You always remember the exact page, Sir!"

"Focus, Lemillion." Nighteye shot back, "We have a job to do. How are the life signs?"

Togata's eyes widened as he inspected the life sign detector, letting out an impressed "Oooh," as he flipped it around. "Midoriya, this thing is super cool! You could sell these things and make a fortune!"

He spun the binoculars around once more and pushed them to his eyes, visors opening on the front as red lights flashed. As his gaze landed on the building, his expression grew serious as he scanned the area. After a moment, he passed the device back to Izuku. "Hey, uh, can you double-check this for me? I'm only picking up one reading inside, and it doesn't look like the quirk user's a villain… if I'm not reading this right, it's a kid."

Izuku's face fell, his fingers tightening around the binoculars as he subtly adjusted the settings, looking at the swaying building. "A child?" His voice was soft, but the concern was clear in his tone.

Kuri frowned grimly, "If a kid's quirk did all this, they must be scared out of their mind…"

As the tension mounted, the sound of hurried footsteps broke through the air. Eraser Head had appeared on the scene, stepping through the debris-laden street with his scarf billowing dramatically behind him. His eyes narrowed as he approached Nighteye and the others, clearly troubled.

"I've already tried using my quirk," Aizawa said with no preamble, his voice low but intense. "I got a clear view of the kid in there from a higher vantage point, but every time I tried to erase their quirk, it was like the effects just… Rewind themselves." He clenched his jaw, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "The moment I tried, it reversed instantly. Like something's constantly resetting the disruption."

Lemillion's brows furrowed as he processed the information, glancing at the trembling building. "I should be able to phase through, though. If erasure doesn't work, maybe I can still get in." Determined, he activated his quirk and immediately ran toward the building. In a rare moment of testing the waters, rather than slipping directly through the barrier he stuck a hand in. But just a few seconds after, his face twisted in pain, and he quickly pulled back, clutching his wrist. "Ah—!" He gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. "My hand, I couldn't get through the storm!"

He flexed his fingers, wincing. "I can't get through! It's like my quirk's being pulled back. You were right, it feels like the effects are being rewound, it's bizarre."

Izuku, clutching the life sign detector, stared into the swirling storm of light and sound at the base of the building. "They must be terrified," he whispered, a tremor in his voice. "A power like this, and at their age. There's no way they're able to control it properly, they don't want to be doing this.

The others turned toward him, concern etched into their faces.

"I can reach her," Izuku said, voice stronger now, resolve settling in. "I know how to get to her."

"How?" Nighteye asked, raising an eyebrow above his glasses.

"They're not doing this on purpose. I think… I think they're having a panic attack. If I can connect with them, I can calm them down. I, um… Have experience with panic attacks."

Aizawa gave him a measured look, weighing the risk. "You think you can get through where we couldn't?"

Izuku nodded, the urgency in his face burning brighter. "I know I can. You just have to trust me, please."

Nighteye's expression hardened. "It's far too risky, Midoriya." He said, his tone unyielding. "We don't know the full extent of this quirk's power. You could be torn apart before you even get close."

"Not to mention…" Aizawa continued, "You're not a hero student. This falls out of your purview."

With his arms crossed, Kuri nodded in agreement. "They're right, Izuku. It's, it's too dangerous!"

Heart racing as he looked at the towering building and the swirling storm of energy, Izuku clenched his fists. "I might be the only one who can get through," he insisted, his voice remaining surprisingly steady despite the weight of the situation. "Ever since I got my quirk I've been wondering why me, and why now. Well, I think this is why. I have to try."

Kuri grabbed his arm, "You don't have to do anything, Izuku! This could kill you!"

With a deep breath, Izuku steadied his nerves. His mind raced, but his resolve held strong. This was it, the moment he'd been putting off for so long.

Time to be a hero.

—

The green metallic plating of Dragon Form began to spread out from Izuku's hands, building itself piece by piece, green metal snapping into place around him, forming the familiar exoskeleton. He'd promised Mei one final experiment, and this was one hell of a way to retire a project. Either way, the weight of the armour had become somewhat comforting – and more than a little empowering.

With one final look back at the others, he steeled himself. "I'm going in."

Before he could second guess himself, or let any other others stop him, he strained to push open the large double doors at the front of the foyer, directly into the heart of the storm. Immediately, a cacophony of light and sound assaulted him – blinding, deafening, overwhelming. The energy pushed against him like a living creature, and he could already feel his quirk being stripped away, the pieces of his armour disintegrating as quickly as they'd been built.

But he was ready.

Izuku summoned more pieces, random assortments of sheet metal, wiring, ceramic shards, chrome panels – building and replacing parts faster than the storm could destroy them. Mechanize flickered and faltered, but he didn't stop. He refused to stop. Each step was harder than the last, his armour a kaleidoscope of constantly shifting, patchwork mechanics, but he kept moving forward.

The storm raged around him, but Izuku remained focused. Unshakeable. As each piece was destroyed, two more were ready to take its place, and after what felt like an eternity of trudging through this thick mass of quirk destruction, he saw her. A girl, curled up in the centre of it all, trembling with fear. Her tiny frame looked even smaller in the middle of all the destruction, and her panic was intense. She was clearly not a villain. Just a terrified child who didn't understand what was happening.

With one final surge of effort, Izuku pushed through to the centre, his body a glowing and ever-shifting amalgamation of parts. His steps slowed, and he pulled away the helmet to reveal his eyes, calm, kind and steady.

"Hey… It's okay, my name's Izuku," he said gently. "I know you're scared, but I'm here now. I'm here to help."

The young girl barely responded, her eyes darting around the destruction she had caused, tears streaming down her cheeks as the storm continued to pulse around them. Izuku had never had a panic attack quite as intense as this, but he recognised the signs all too familiarly. The feeling was like everything was falling apart around you. Like your body and mind weren't in sync.

He knelt down slowly, keeping his voice steady. "I know it's scary," he said, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone. Times like this, where it feels like everything is too big, where it feels like we can't control what's happening. It's okay to feel that way."

The girl's breath hitched, and her panicked gasps grew louder as the energy around them flared, sending another wave of force outward. Izuku braced himself, feeling his armour rip away, but he didn't move back. He wasn't going to retreat.

"Hey, listen to me," Izuku continued, speaking more firmly now but still with a warmth in his voice. "I need you to focus on my voice, okay? I know it feels like you can't breathe, like everything's closing in on you. But I promise, you can breathe. Take it slow."

He exaggerated his own breathing, slow and deliberate, making sure she could hear the rise and fall of his breaths through the storm. "In… and out," he repeated.

The girl's eyes flickered toward him, her breaths still panicked and fast, but something in her expression shifted. As she did so, the storm pulsed again.

"You're safe now," Izuku continued, "You're safe now. I'm not going anywhere."

Then, he took a necessary gamble. With the storm easing its severity, Izuku knew he had to let her know that everything really would be alright, and he removed the armour from his hand. He reached out, not forcing it, just offering it, as his voice softened again. "You don't have to do this on your own. I've had panic attacks before too. I know how scary they are, how it feels like there's no way out. But there is a way through it, and we'll get there together."

The girl's small hand trembled as she hesitantly reached out, placing it in his. The moment their hands touched, the storm around them flickered, the intense light and sound wavering. And stopping.

"That's it," Izuku said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I've got you. You're okay."