ONE'S JUSTICE
ARC TWO, CHAPTER ONE
Chapter 1, Arc 2: World Gone To Hell
It had been a month since the world had been shaken by a coordinated attack unlike anything humanity had ever seen. The once thriving cities, known for their gleaming towers and bustling streets, now lay scarred and broken, the memories of peace shattered by the violence of a single, elusive organization: The Outcasts. Across continents, in places like London, Tokyo, New York, Paris, and cities throughout Asia, destruction reigned. Buildings were reduced to rubble, monuments to civilization torn apart, and the world watched in a mix of horror and disbelief as the full extent of the attack began to unfold.
For the citizens who had been caught in the chaos, it was a month of living in a new, unfamiliar reality. People huddled in shelters, their homes gone, their livelihoods disrupted. Governments scrambled to provide aid, but the scale of the destruction was overwhelming. What had started as a string of isolated incidents had turned into a global nightmare, a threat from an organization no one had anticipated. The Outcasts, a shadowy and well-funded group, had unleashed chaos with chilling precision, and the world was left picking up the pieces.
The attack began without warning. In London, the iconic Big Ben stood at the center of a fiery explosion, a plume of smoke rising from the heart of the city. The city's financial district, home to some of the world's largest corporations, was hit hard with bombings that crippled their operations. Electrical grids were targeted next, plunging the city and surrounding areas into darkness. Panic spread like wildfire. Citizens fled the streets in fear, not knowing who was behind the carnage or what the next target would be.
Across the globe, The Outcasts showed no mercy. In Tokyo, the futuristic skyline that once symbolized Japan's progress became a haunting reminder of their vulnerability. Entire districts were wiped out by bombings, and the country's advanced power plants were sabotaged, leaving millions without power for days. Critical infrastructure was brought to its knees. The most unsettling part of the attack was the coordinated hacking of government systems, which crippled communications and slowed any chance of a coordinated defense.
In the United States, the chaos was no less intense. With the death of their strongest hero Star and Stripes, the remaining heroes weren't enough to defend against the night of the unknown organization. In major cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago, the streets were filled with fear and confusion. A series of bombs decimated power plants along the East Coast, and numerous government buildings were attacked, leaving behind both devastation and a trail of broken families. Among the hardest hit were a handful of high-profile politicians who were kidnapped in the midst of the attack, their fates unknown.
But it wasn't just governments that were targeted. Celebrities—individuals who had once been regarded as untouchable—became victims of The Outcasts' wrath. In cities across the world, actors, singers, and famous public figures were kidnapped or murdered, sending shockwaves through the public consciousness. The elite were no longer immune from the terror that had been unleashed on the world.
In France, the Eiffel Tower was damaged, a symbol of the country's cultural pride now marred by the attack. Paris' central district was decimated by explosions, and the government's quick response, though heroic, was insufficient to stem the chaos. Even more horrifying were the stories of civilians taken as hostages, held in foreign compounds by the Outcasts, while world governments scrambled to figure out who these attackers were and what their endgame could be.
The world was living In fear of the next move, unable to predict what The Outcasts would do next. News outlets reported increasing numbers of dead, the number of kidnapped growing by the hour, and governments were all but paralyzed by the scale of the attack.
Despite the devastation, a ray of hope emerged. The heroes after recovering and recuperating —immediately mobilized to respond. But their efforts, too, were met with unexpected challenges. Despite their power, The Outcasts had anticipated their response and employed tactics to counter them. In some areas, heroes were unable to save civilians fast enough, with The Outcasts' bombings far exceeding what any one individual could prevent.
In London, a hero known for her speed managed to rescue thousands from collapsing buildings, but even she was unable to prevent the devastation at the electrical plants. The damage was so extensive that it would take weeks to restore basic power, and the hero herself was forced to retreat after a near-death encounter with a group of Outcast soldiers armed with weapons designed to neutralize her speed.
Over in Japan, heroes like Endeavor, Kamui Woods, Mt. Lady and Best Jeanist did their but were met with serious challenge. Even with the seious power of the rising heroes Deku, Shoto and Dynamight, they had been unable to save some important locations which had been deliberately sabotaged in the attack. The city's hospitals, once a sanctuary for the injured, were overwhelmed with patients, and the recovery process seemed impossible in the face of such destruction.
In the United States, a hero with the ability to manipulate technology did his best to restore the communications systems, but even his talent was stymied by the Outcasts' sophisticated hacking. The US government had initially placed its faith in him to recover their intelligence networks, but he found himself fighting an invisible enemy—lines of code instead of the Outcasts themselves. Heroes from around the world worked tirelessly to help, but the emotional and physical toll was undeniable. They were faced not only with destruction on a massive scale but also with a growing sense of helplessness. How could they battle an enemy who seemed to anticipate every move? How could they save a world so deeply shaken?
One month after the attack, a major news conference was held in London. The global news outlets, many of which had struggled to regain their footing after their systems were hacked and manipulated, finally gathered in one location to discuss the current state of the world. Among the reporters was Sarah Chen, a Japanese journalist who had been reporting on the chaos from the very beginning. Her words had become a lifeline for many, as she pieced together the fragmented information coming from the world's leaders and emergency services.
"Sitting here today, I can't help but think of the people whose lives were forever changed by The Outcasts' attack. What started as a wave of violence quickly escalated into a worldwide crisis that we are still struggling to comprehend. In London, at least 300 lives were lost in the initial bombing of the West End. Tokyo's Shibuya district was decimated in a matter of hours, and New York's Times Square was targeted, taking down not just a monument of commerce, but a symbol of the American dream," Sarah reported, her voice steady despite the weight of the facts she was presenting.
"But, amid the destruction, there have been stories of survival, and there is hope," she continued. "In Paris, heroes pulled people from the rubble, and in America, volunteer organizations are doing everything they can to deliver food and medicine to those stranded by the chaos. A group of survivors in Tokyo have formed a community, pooling resources and building makeshift hospitals. It's a testament to the resilience of humanity in the face of utter despair."
As she reported, images of the bombed cities flashed on the screen behind her, showing burned-out buildings, the wreckage of broken lives, and families grieving. But the images also highlighted heroes in action—heroes stopping fires, saving civilians, and working to rebuild what had been destroyed.
Sarah concluded, "We are witnessing a time of unprecedented devastation. But we are also witnessing the strength of communities and the unwavering determination of heroes who refuse to let the world fall into darkness."
Japan, Musutafu…
Izuki frowned as she gazed down at the destroyed homes and buildings as she floated from above, OFA's power crackling around her body.. Eventually she landed on top of a building and growled lowly in anger at the situation.
The successor to All Might stood on the edge of a shattered building, the wind tugging at her dark green hair as she gazed down at the ruined cityscape below. The towering skyscrapers that once gleamed with the energy of life were now ghostly husks, their facades broken, windows shattered, and streets filled with rubble. Smoke still billowed in the distance, the smell of burnt metal and dust hanging thick in the air. Her heart ached at the sight of it, the weight of everything that had happened pressing on her chest like an invisible hand.
The Outcasts attack had left not only cities in ruins but also the hope of millions hanging by a fragile thread. She thought back to the day it all started, the first bomb that shattered the peace. How it all went to hell.
The world was broken, and no matter how fast he ran or how hard he fought, there were still so many lives lost, so much destruction.
"I should've done more…" Izuki muttered to himself, her voice barely audible against the backdrop of silence. She clenched her fists, feeling the familiar burn in her palms. The power of One For All surged within him, a constant reminder of her responsibility, but right now, it felt like a burden—one she wasn't sure he could carry.
The world had still been recovering somewhat from the LOV's liberation war only before but now there was this new threat. And Shigaraki and his group were still out there, constantly planning and getting more power.
It scared her.
She had saved people. She'd pulled civilians from burning buildings in Tokyo, stopped explosions from claiming more lives, and battled as many of the Outcasts members as she could. Yet, each victory felt hollow. For every person she saved, there were dozens more who had fallen. For every city she helped rebuild, there were countless others still in ruins, abandoned and forgotten in the chaos.
'Why couldn't I stop it?' Izuki's mind screamed, the question echoing louder than the sounds of the destruction that still haunted her thoughts. Her role, her purpose, had always been clear: to be the next symbol of hope, to be someone people could rely on. But now, in the wake of the Outcasts' merciless attack, she felt smaller than ever, her powers somehow not enough to keep the world from collapsing in on itself.
She thought of the people she had met along the way—the children whose lives had been uprooted, the families who had lost everything, and the survivors who wandered through the broken streets, uncertain of what their future would look like. She could see their faces in his mind, their eyes filled with fear, grief, and hope. Hope that, somehow, they would get through this. Hope that she, and others like her, could restore some semblance of order to their shattered world.
But as she stood there, she realized just how much he was struggling to hold onto that hope himself.
It's times like this she missed Ken. He had always been one to make her feel better and more confident whenever she was at her lowest. Always there to pick her up when she needed it.
She and her former classmates along with a few pro heroes had been on the look out for him but like every other day since the Outcasts' world wide attack, there wasn't a single trace.
Unlike before where you would catch a sniff of him or here some rumours or like a few others managed to find him, this time there was no trace, like he had vanished. And that scared her.
What if they had gotten to him?
What if he was just really good at hiding?
What if he was…?
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to center herself, to calm the swirling and dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. Her breaths came in shallow bursts, the panic rising in her chest like an unshakable pressure. 'No.' She told herself mentally. 'He has to be okay. He always is.'
But the self-affirmations did little to ease the pain in her heart. She remembered the faces of the civilians she hadn't been able to save, the screams that echoed in her mind long after she had left the scene, the pleas from ghe boy she admired very much, the frightening transformation he has undergone. Even with all her power, she couldn't be everywhere at once. She couldn't stop every bomb, couldn't save every life.
Even after the month had passed, she still can stop the feeling of helplessness lingered, thick and oppressive. The Outcasts had taken so much from the world, and the scars of their attack would never truly fade.
'But I can't give up.'
Izuki took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the railing in front of her. The people she had saved, the smiles of relief she'd seen after a rescue, those were the moments she had to hold on to. They reminded her of why she kept fighting. There were still heroes out there, still good in the world, still people who believed that things could be made better.
And as much as she wanted to fall into despair, she knew that wasn't the answer. Her mentor, All Might, had taught her the importance of never giving up, even when everything seemed impossible. 'Now it's my turn', Izuki thought, eyes hardening with resolve. She couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the damage already done, but she could continue to move forward. She could continue to be the hero that people needed, to be the hero Ken needed, no matter how heavy the burden.
With a final, steadying breath, she activated her Float quirk, elevating off the edge. The fight wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Paris, France…
One month later, after days of deliberation, world leaders convened for an emergency summit, hoping to unite against the threat that The Outcasts posed. Held in Paris, in the shadow of the ruined Eiffel Tower, the summit was a last-ditch attempt to coordinate a global response. Military leaders, politicians, and representatives from every corner of the globe sat around a large conference table, each with their own concerns about the attack's long-term ramifications.
The first to speak was a representative from the United States. "We cannot allow this to continue. The Outcasts have shown they are capable of crippling our defenses and destabilizing our economies. But we must focus on what we can do together. We need a united front—military, intelligence, and, most importantly, our heroes—working in tandem."
A representative from France, speaking in the aftermath of the attacks on their homeland, took a deep breath before adding, "The Outcasts have no regard for borders. They have shown us that they will stop at nothing to dismantle our societies. But we are not without resources. Heroes are stepping forward, and nations are recovering. We must pool our efforts if we are to restore our cities and bring these terrorists to justice."
Discussions were intense, at times bordering on heated, as leaders debated the best course of action. The summit was meant to be a show of unity, but tensions were high. Some leaders advocated for direct military action, while others stressed the importance of diplomacy and intelligence-sharing. The common enemy, however, was clear: The Outcasts, a well-organized faction that had wreaked havoc on the world.
Finally, it was agreed: a global task force would be formed, combining military and hero resources. Intelligence would be shared across borders, and recovery efforts would be led by the United Nations in collaboration with various relief organizations. The Outcasts were still out there, but the world had learned a valuable lesson from the disaster. The only way forward was together.
Tohoku Region, Japan…
The Tohoku region, located in the northern part of Japan's main island, is known for its mountainous landscapes, rural communities, and relative isolation compared to the more populated areas like Tokyo or Osaka.
Known for its dense forests, remote mountain villages, and a scattered population. There's minimal government presence, and the topography offers plenty of natural cover.
Located in the area is a reasonably decent sized house with coloring that hid it well among the surroundings.
Shigaraki sat in the building, a neutral expression on his face as he watched the news coverage of the events and damages the attack had caused on the world.
"Sitting here today, I can't help but think of the people whose lives were forever changed by The Outcasts' attack. What started as a wave of violence quickly escalated into a worldwide crisis that we are still struggling to comprehend…" Sarah's voice echoed in the room.
Shigaraki didn't respond to the words; he simply let them wash over him, his eyes narrowed, and his fingers lightly tapping the armrest of the chair. His thoughts were far from the chaos and destruction Sarah spoke of. No, in that moment, Shigaraki's mind was far more focused on what was coming next—the inevitable meeting with the leader of the Outcasts. He knew with the goals both the L.O.V. had the this Outcasts people do, they'd eventually cross paths and it was whether they'd work together or against each other. This was a group that knew how to strike at the very heart of society, just as he had done in his own way. They had intrigued him.
The more Shigaraki watched, the more his resentment for the so-called "heroes" and their false ideals grew. They all spoke of rebuilding, of recovery, of restoring things to how they were. But to him, it was all just a pathetic charade. The world was rotting from the inside, and these conferences only proved how weak they were. Watching them try to mend something broken beyond repair made him sick. He would destroy it all—he'd burn it down to the ground and let the ashes settle where they may.
"In Paris, heroes pulled people from the rubble, and in America, volunteer organizations are doing everything they can to deliver food and medicine to those stranded by the chaos. A group of survivors in Tokyo have formed a community, pooling resources and building makeshift hospitals…" Sarah continued.
Shigaraki's lips curled into a sneer, his eyes briefly flashing a mix of disgust and contempt. Heroes. Survivors. Communities. It all made him sick. The more they tried to rebuild, the more it made clear to him how fragile the world really was. All the so-called recovery efforts, all the fake smiles of hope… they were nothing more than futile attempts to hold together something that had already been broken beyond repair. 'This world is a joke', he thought bitterly. 'These people can pretend all they want, but everything they've built is rotting from the inside.'
Behind him, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Shiggy…" the voice came from Toga, her playful tone sounding oddly sinister as always. "Are you actually listening to this crap?"
Shigaraki didn't turn around, but he could hear the sharp edge of amusement in her voice. He could already feel her grinning behind him.
"Honestly, I'm surprised they still try to act all hero-like after all the damage. The Outcasts hit them so hard, and they still try to play the 'rebuilding' game…" Compress said as he leaned against the wall, playing with a few marbles between his fingers. He wasn't wrong, of course. The League of Villains and the Outcasts both knew how to take a sledgehammer to the façade of peace these people lived under. It was almost too easy to watch them scramble to fix something they couldn't even begin to comprehend. A low chuckle escaped his lips.
"Let them pretend," Shigaraki said quietly. "They can play their little games of recovery. It'll make it even more fun when it all falls apart."
The room fell silent for a moment, and Shigaraki's gaze shifted back to the screen. Sarah Chen was still speaking, her voice unwavering.
"The Outcasts have shown us that they will stop at nothing to dismantle our societies. But we are not without resources. Heroes are stepping forward, and nations are recovering. We must pool our efforts if we are to restore our cities and bring these terrorists to justice."
Justice. The word echoed in his mind like a bitter taste on his tongue. It was always about justice, wasn't it? The same justice that had made him the monster he was today. The justice that had crushed his family and his past. They didn't know what justice really meant. To them, it was just a word, a façade. The truth was, real justice was chaos, destruction, and tearing down everything that didn't deserve to stand.
"What do you think, Dabi?" Shigaraki muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the silent form of the blue-flamed pyrokinetic.
Dabi, lounging on a dilapidated couch in the corner, didn't need to be asked twice. He rubbed his hand through his white hair and sighed. "What those it matter anyway? At the end as long as I get what I want none of all this shit concern me."
A dark chuckle rumbled in Shigaraki's chest. He expected an answer like that from him. The entire world was caught in an endless cycle of control, and none of them even realized that it was already over. The systems, the governments, the heroes—they were all hanging by a thread, struggling to maintain power when the true power lay in destruction. If the Outcasts had proven anything, it was that breaking down a system was easier than trying to fix it. The war had already begun, and the world didn't even know it.
"We are witnessing a time of unprecedented devastation. But we are also witnessing the strength of communities and the unwavering determination of heroes who refuse to let the world fall into darkness." Sarah's words cut through the air again, but this time they felt like the hollow words of someone who still didn't understand the true nature of the world.
"Darkness?" Shigaraki muttered under his breath. "They don't know what darkness is. They've been living in a delusion for so long."
Toga giggles childishly as she twirled a sharp knife around like it was a toy. "All this talk has made me want to stab something."
"Calm down Toga. Now's not the time." Spinner, who had been silent for a while said.
Shigaraki barely reacted to her comment. He was lost in thought again, the weight of his thoughts swirling like a storm. 'Maybe it's time to make things interesting.'
"Let's meet with them," Shigaraki finally said, breaking the silence in the room. His voice was cold, but it carried an undercurrent of excitement. "These Outcasts… they seem interesting. I've been listening to the reports. They want to watch the world burn like us. But they're not quite there yet. Their goal of rebuilding it is useless. We'll show them how it's done."
The League of Villains had already been a catalyst for destruction. They'd already shaken the foundations of the world, but it wasn't enough. Not yet. Not until everything had crumbled under the weight of their ambition.
"I'm meeting with them," Shigaraki continued, standing up slowly, his fingers twitching. "This 'united front' they think they have, these alliances… it's all just a stupid sideshow. They think have power, but they're still not quite there yet."
The thought of fixing society sounded like a joke to him.
"Finally going to make your move, huh?" Dabi commented, snuffing out the blue flames that danced around his right palm. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes.
Shigaraki didn't respond immediately. His thoughts were already moving ahead, weaving a dark plan. 'It won't be long before the rest of the world falls apart. We'll bring the Outcasts into the fold… and then the real fun begins.'
He turned away from the screen, his fingers twitching involuntarily as if itching for destruction. He could feel the overwhelming power within him, ready to be unleashed on the world. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan to bring the Outcasts into the League of Villains' fold.
'And when I'm done, I'll destroy them as well.'
"Hmm, this could be quite entertaining." Compress thought loudly with a nod.
"You all should try and get their attention, I'm sure their leader is smart enough to get a message." Shigaraki said as he got up. "In the meantime, I have someone to find."
"Oh, oh~, is it Kenny, I know it is." Toga chimed excitedly. "Can I come with?"
"No."
"Aww~"
Flash back…
The alleyway was narrow and dimly lit, a shadowed corridor between crumbling brick walls that echoed with the sounds of the city just beyond. A woman, her heart racing and breath quickening, pressed her back against the cold, unforgiving surface, desperately seeking a way out. The faint sounds of laughter and jeering from the trio of thugs closed in around her, chilling her to the bone.
"Come on, sweetheart," one thug sneered, stepping closer, his eyes dark with malice. "We just want to have a little fun."
She felt the panic rising as the other two circled her, their intentions crystal clear. Just as they lunged forward, laughter replaced by menacing grins, a figure emerged from the shadows at the other end of the alley. Clad in dark, nondescript clothing, due to the darkness, the figure moved with an intensity that silenced the thugs mid-advance.
"What do we have here?" the figure, obviously male voice was low, steady, and charged with an unyielding authority. The thugs exchanged glances, momentarily confused by the unexpected interruption.
"Get lost, creep!" one of them shouted, raising a hand in defiance. But the figure didn't hesitate; with a swift, fluid motion, they closed the distance, grabbing the offending hand and twisting it behind the thug's back.
A sharp gasp escaped the thug's lips as he was propelled forward, crashing into a stack of discarded crates. Before the other two could react, the unknown man was upon them, a whirlwind of precise strikes and calculated movements. A fist collided with the jaw of the second thug, sending him sprawling into the filth of the alley, his sneer replaced by shock.
The remaining thug lunged forward, swinging a steel pipe. The male figure sidestepped effortlessly, the pipe slicing through empty air before being countered with a powerful elbow to the thug's stomach. Gasping, the thug doubled over just as a swift kick sent him crashing against the wall, dazed and defeated.
The woman watched, a mix of horror and relief washing over her as the person turned toward her. Her eyes widening when she got a good look at his face. Ken Nagato, the former UA student that had disappeared almost a month ago. There was an unspoken understanding in their eyes, a promise of safety in the chaos. The thugs, now battered and incapacitated, groaned in defeat as the vigilante stood over them, a guardian of the night.
"Are you okay?" came the quiet inquiry, their voice softer, the tension in the air dissipating.
As the woman nodded, still trembling from the ordeal, the vigilante looked back at the beaten gang sprawled out in the alley, a note of warning reflected in their posture. "This isn't over. Make sure to get home safely." He stated with a fierce conviction before turning away, melting back into the shadows from whence they came.
The alley was silent now, the threat dissipated, but the air still tingled with the remnants of fear. With a shaky breath, the woman began to step forward, a flicker of hope igniting within her. She was safe. She thanked him silently as she got up and headed home, making sure to not run into any suspicious place.
Flashback Over…
Mayuri Toka sighed as she entered her home. She lived in one of the few cities that wasn't directly attacked by those Outcasts terrorists so she still has a somewhat safe place to stay in.
"Mum, you're back." A little girl that looked around 7-8 years of age said brightly as she lunged at her mum from the living room and hugged her leg tightly. "I missed you."
"I've only been gone for an hour sweetheart." Mayuri said as she rubbed her daughters hair. Lila was like a carbon copy of her only with her fathers red hair instead of her own black hair. She frowned as she thought of her late husband.
"Any dear, how is he?" The older woman asked as Lila separated from her and took a glance at a room.
"He hasn't woken up yet mummy." She said sweetly. "I tried everything but he didn't seem to budge. Is something wrong with him?" She asked with a frown.
"Oh nothing dear." Mayuri said. "He's just having a long nap since he was seriously hurt." She then handed her the bag she was carrying. "Why don't you help me arrange all this in the kitchen, I'll be right back."
Lila nodded and took the bag from her mum before heading off to the kitchen. Mayuri frowned and walked towards the closed door before opening it and walking into a room that didn't have much except a stool and a bed.
A bed that had the infamous Ken Nagato laying on it, bruised, wrapped in a few bandages and unconscious.
She sighed as she sat on the stool beside the bed and took the younger man's right hand with both her hands.
"I hope you wake up soon. I'd like to properly thank you for saving me that day." She said silently as she squeezed her hands around his.
And that's it for this chapter. Next one will be a flashback to before Ken went rogue which is right after the Paranormal Liberation war arc. Ken is in a coma, the world is in shambles and the L.O.V. are still around plotting some evil shit. Anyway, as you can see Ken got beat up bad. How? You'll have to wait and see.
Anyway, till next time. Read and Review.
Peace.