The war room inside the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters was tense, the weight of what was about to happen pressing heavily on every individual present. The long rectangular table at the center of the room was covered in detailed maps, surveillance photos, and tactical blueprints, illuminated by the harsh glow of overhead lights. The air carried the sterile scent of coffee and ink, mingled with the lingering scent of exhaustion.
Seated near the table, Principal Nezu, the genius behind U.A. High School and one of the most brilliant tacticians in the nation, rested his hands atop a thick stack of documents. His eyes flickered from hero to hero, gauging their expressions, reading the silent tension in their postures. This was it. The moment they had been preparing for.
To Nezu's left, Detective Tsukauchi stood stiffly, his usual easy going demeanor replaced with something harder, sharper. His fingers were wrapped tightly around a folder, the official case report on the USJ incident, the pages holding everything they had learned so far about the League of Villains. But it wasn't enough. There were still too many unknowns, too many gaps in their intelligence, and time was slipping through their fingers like sand.
To Nezu's right, Toshinori Yagi, better known to the world as All Might, remained seated, his hands clenched into fists atop the table. His face, though composed, was lined with fatigue and worry, his shoulders squared with the unbearable weight of responsibility. His students had been attacked. A child had been taken. A student he had personally promised to protect.
A student whose innocence was no longer guaranteed.
All Might exhaled slowly, controlling his breathing. No, that wasn't a thought he was ready to accept. Izuku was innocent. He had to be.
Across from them, a lineup of Japan's top pro-heroes sat in tense silence. Some leaned forward, elbows resting against the table, brows furrowed in thought. Others crossed their arms, their gazes sharp, unyielding. Each of them was here because they had been handpicked for this operation. This was not a simple villain takedown—this was an act of war.
Present Mic sat beside Eraserhead, his sunglasses pushed up onto his head as he rubbed a hand down his face. Next to him, Endeavor loomed like a furnace barely holding back its heat, his flames dormant but pulsing, the steady rise and fall of his shoulders betraying his barely-contained fury.
Mirko cracked her knuckles, restless. Edge Shot, standing behind her, remained unreadable, his sharp eyes flicking between the gathered individuals, taking in every single word, every single movement. Gang Orca, Best Jeanist, Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Fat Gum, and Gran Torino rounded out the force, each hero wearing an expression that screamed focus, determination, and preparation for battle.
The police commissioner cleared his throat, drawing all attention to the front of the room. He was an older man, gray-haired, battle-worn, a veteran of the force, and one who had seen too many heroes fall, too many villains rise. He adjusted his glasses and set down a thick file, the weight of it echoing through the room.
"This is the largest coordinated strike against an underground villain network we have conducted in over a decade," he began, voice firm, unwavering.
"Our target: The League of Villains. The location: An abandoned industrial warehouse in Kamino Ward. Intelligence suggests this facility is one of their primary operational hubs—a place where they have been organizing, recruiting, and plotting further attacks against hero society."
He gestured toward a large digital display screen, which flickered to life with a satellite image of the warehouse compound. The grainy, overhead view showed multiple entry points, structural weaknesses, and the possible locations of enemy forces.
"The mission objective is twofold," the commissioner continued. "First, eliminate the League of Villains—subdue, capture, and neutralize all hostiles present. Second..." His gaze flicked toward All Might, toward Nezu, toward Aizawa, before settling on Detective Tsukauchi. "...recover Midoriya Izuku."
A silence heavier than steel settled over the room.
Aizawa's eyes darkened, his fingers curling into his sleeves. Present Mic cast him a glance, his expression tight. The very mention of Midoriya's name made the air grow sharper, colder.
"We have reason to believe Midoriya is being held somewhere inside the facility," Nezu added, his voice measured. "However, our intelligence remains uncertain as to his condition or his... willingness."
That single word sent a ripple through the heroes. Willingness.
The implication twisted in the air like a blade waiting to drop.
All Might stiffened, his hands gripping the table, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack.
Endeavor scoffed, folding his arms. "If the kid's been turned, we deal with him like we would any other villain."
"He's not a villain!" All Might's voice boomed, shaking the room. His blue eyes were fierce, a storm of barely restrained emotion. "Midoriya Izuku is not one of them!"
Endeavor didn't flinch. "Then you'd better pray you're right, because if he stands in our way, we won't have time to debate it."
All Might rose suddenly, his towering presence casting a long shadow over the room. His breath was steady, but his eyes—his eyes burned.
"We will bring him home," he said, voice like thunder before the storm. "And I won't let anyone treat him as a villain until we have the truth."
Silence followed, thick and suffocating.
Nezu's ears twitched as he observed the standoff. He exhaled through his nose, the sound barely audible. "Our priority is his rescue. If Midoriya is innocent, he must be extracted safely. If he has been… compromised… we must contain the situation before the media learns the truth."
Tsukauchi, who had been silent up until this moment, finally spoke.
"We don't have all the facts," he said, his voice calm but unyielding. "And we won't until we go in. But one thing is clear—this operation must be swift, precise, and absolute. We cannot afford to let them escape again."
He turned toward the assembled heroes, his gaze sharp, authoritative.
"We hit them fast. We hit them hard."
The display screen shifted again, showing strategic entry points, routes mapped out in meticulous detail.
"Team One, led by Endeavor, will spearhead the assault through the south entrance. They will serve as the primary combat unit, engaging and neutralizing high-threat targets and any remaining Nomu."
A new set of red-marked pathways appeared.
"Team Two, led by Eraserhead, Best Jeanist, and Gang Orca, will take the east wing, sweeping for resistance and securing captured personnel."
More marks. More routes.
"Team Three, led by Edge Shot, Mirko, and Kamui Woods, will secure all potential escape routes."
A final set of coordinates.
"And Team Four… tasked with locating and recovering Midoriya Izuku."
Tsukauchi's gaze locked onto All Might. "You're leading this one."
The words settled over the room like stone. All Might nodded once, his eyes unwavering. Tsukauchi inhaled deeply. "We move at 0500 hours. Be ready."
The low hum of the engine vibrated through the armored van as it rolled down the deserted road. The assembled pro-heroes sat in the back, their expressions grim, their bodies tense with anticipation. The air inside was thick with quiet tension, and the steel-edged certainty that tonight, one way or another, things were going to change.
All Might sat near the back, his massive frame hunched slightly to fit within the confined space. His hands were clasped together, his breathing was even, steady, and calculated. But deep inside, the storm raged.
Beside him, Endeavor sat with his arms crossed, his fiery presence subdued but no less intense. The number two hero exhaled through his nose, eyes flickering towards All Might before narrowing slightly. The flickering light of the overhead van lamps danced against the embers of his beard, making him look even more menacing in the half-darkness.
"This is a waste of resources," Endeavor muttered, voice low, yet cutting.
All Might turned slightly, his eyes shadowed. "What?"
"You heard me," Endeavor growled, his tone sharp with irritation. "We're moving in on an entire criminal organization, a group of well-trained villains, powerful quirks, dangerous variables. And all of this, all of it—" he gestured with a sharp movement of his hand, his gauntlet gleaming under the dim light, "—is for one child. A student who may not even be innocent."
The van rocked slightly as they hit a small bump in the road, but neither hero moved, their gazes locked, heat simmering beneath their words.
"He is innocent," All Might said firmly, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it.
"You don't know that," Endeavor shot back. "No one does. The kid's quirk is the exact same as the one that fought you. You explained all of this to us in the briefing room. His disappearance was too convenient, his survival too perfect. What if he's turned?"
"Izuku Midoriya is not a villain," All Might snapped, his patience finally breaking. The weight of the words echoed in the confined space, and for a brief moment, the other heroes—Best Jeanist, Edgeshot, Kamui Woods, Gang Orca, and even Hawks—glanced their way.
Endeavor narrowed his eyes. "And if he is?"
All Might's fingers curled against his knees. "Then we bring him home anyway."
A snort of derision. "And if he doesn't want to come home?" Endeavour asked.
"Then we fight for him."
The van was silent.
It was Gran Torino who finally cut through the tension, his voice rough with age yet steady, commanding. "That's enough," he said, eyes sharp beneath his cowl. "Arguing about this now won't change anything. We're minutes away from the site. Save your energy for the real battle."
Endeavor grunted but said nothing else, his gaze shifting toward the reinforced doors of the van, his fingers twitching, eager to unleash his flames.
All Might exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. Stay centered. Keep your emotions in check. The mission had been planned down to the last detail.
Four teams. And then, there was Strike Team D.
All Might, who was earlier approached by Gran Torino and Hawks to help. The infiltration unit. Their task was simple—get inside, locate Midoriya, and extract him before it was too late.
The van came to a slow, rolling stop. The radio in Gran Torino's hand crackled.
"We're in position," Tsukauchi's voice murmured.
All Might flexed his fingers, his breathing calm despite the storm in his chest.
The doors opened. The mission had begun.
The League of Villains' hideout sat in the skeletal remains of an abandoned warehouse district, the buildings crumbling under years of neglect. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete, rusted steel, and something foul lurking beneath the surface.
The first explosion shook the ground.
Endeavor's hellfire roared to life, a violent, blinding eruption of orange and blue flames consuming the main entrance in the South. The force sent metal doors flying inward, slamming into the nearest wall with a deafening crash.
Inside, chaos erupted. The League had no warning.
Dabi barely had time to react before a thick, steel wire wrapped around his wrist—Best Jeanist. The Number Three hero pulled hard, dragging Dabi forward before whipping his other hand, sending threads toward Toga, who barely dodged, flipping backward with a delighted cackle.
"Heroes are here~!" she sang, spinning on her heels.
Spinner cursed, reaching for his blade, but before he could move, Edgeshot was already there, his body flattening into a razor-thin needle, piercing through the air faster than the eye could follow.
The hideout trembled as Gang Orca's sonic roar tore through the lower floors, the sheer force sending villains crashing into walls, their ears bleeding from the intensity of the frequency. Kamui Woods followed through, his branches surging outward, entangling stragglers before they could retreat.
And in the midst of it all, All Might moved.
A wave of Nomus emerged from the shadows, their twisted, grotesque forms barely human. The closest one lunged, its clawed hands reaching—
DELAWARE SMASH.
The impact sent it flying, crashing through three walls before slamming into the far side of the warehouse. Another came from behind, its jaw unhinging, rows of razor-sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light.
All Might ducked, pivoted, and drove his fist upward into its gut. The force rippled through the air—*shockwaves splitting the floor beneath them—*before the Nomu was launched skyward, crashing through the ceiling, disappearing into the night.
There was no time to rest. All Might pushed forward, weaving through the battlefield as chaos exploded around him. He had only one goal, find Izuku.
His boots slammed against the floor as he tore through the lower levels, throwing aside anyone in his way. The corridors were narrow, dark, reeking of damp decay. The deeper he went, the quieter it became, the muffled sounds of battle fading behind him.
It was at this point he noticed a light coming through one of the door's slightly cracked open.
He knew this place. It had been identified in the initial scouting reports, marked as a central meeting area. If anyone had information on Izuku's whereabouts—it would be here.
All Might kicked the door in. The hinges snapped, the wood splintering apart.
Inside, Giran, the information broker sat at the counter, legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The faint scent of alcohol filled the room, mixing with the lingering scent of smoke.
He didn't look surprised. Giran exhaled, rolling the whiskey in his glass before taking a slow, deliberate sip.
Then, he set it down. "Well," he said, his voice smooth, casual, as if this was nothing more than a business transaction. "This is a surprise."
All Might's fists clenched. "Where is Midoriya?"
All Might's shoulders heaved as he stood in the doorway, his frame nearly swallowing the dimly lit room whole. His blue eyes were like embers beneath the shadows of his brows, blazing with barely restrained fury.
Giran, however, remained unbothered. He leaned lazily against the bar, cigarette pinched between his fingers, exhaling a plume of smoke as he studied the situation like it was nothing more than a game.
"Y'know," Giran mused, swirling the whiskey in his glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides, "you could've knocked first. Kicking down doors is a bit dramatic, even for you, All Might."
"Where is Midoriya?" His voice was low, sharp, edged with an urgency that left no room for negotiations.
Giran only chuckled. "Ah, yes. The lost little lamb," he exhaled, tapping ash onto the counter. "I take it this whole raid is for him, huh? Risking all of U.A's reputation, sending out every pro-hero you could gather, just for one kid? Feels like an awful lot of effort."
All Might's hands curled into fists. The air seemed to ripple around him. "Tell me where he is. Now."
Giran grinned. His teeth were slightly yellowed from years of smoking, his eyes sharp despite the nonchalant way he sat, shoulders loose, posture relaxed. "You think threats will work on me, Symbol of Peace?" He spread his arms. "C'mon, you know how this works. You think I got this far without learning how to keep my mouth shut?"
All Might took one step forward and in an instant, the entire bar trembled.
The floorboards cracked beneath the sheer force of his presence. The bottle of whiskey next to Giran shattered from the residual shockwave alone. Giran winced, but only slightly.
"Where. Is. He?"
A low, gravelly started small, barely a chuckle, but soon Giran was outright laughing, his shoulders shaking as if this was the funniest thing he had seen all night.
"Oh, man..." he wheezed, rubbing at his temple, "you're serious, huh?" He let out another snicker. "That's the best part about you, All Might. You still think that shouting at people is gonna get you what you want. Like intimidation will suddenly make me spill my guts."
All Might moved and in a flash, he lunged—his arm gripping Giran by the collar, hoisting him clean off the ground, slamming him against the back wall with enough force to shake the foundation. The barstools clattered to the floor. The cigarette in Giran's hand fell, its embers smoldering against the wood.
For the first time, Giran let out a strangled cough, his smirk faltering as All Might's grip tightened.
"Where is Midoriya?"
"Easy there, big guy," Giran wheezed, his hands coming up, feigning innocence. "I just got this suit pressed."
Immediately a rush of wind zoomed in. Gran Torino was suddenly there, his small frame barreling into the scene with a gust of speed, landing beside them. His old, wrinkled hands reached out, gripping All Might's wrist firmly, forcing him back before the pressure around Giran's throat could break his windpipe.
"Enough, Toshinori!" Gran Torino barked.
All Might's breathing was ragged, his fingers trembling as his fist hovered just inches from caving in Giran's skull. The moment stretched too long, the sheer weight of his fury making the air feel suffocating.
As All Might let go, Giran slumped, coughing, rubbing at his throat with a grin that never quite vanished.
"Guess you still got some restraint after all," he rasped.
All Might didn't hear was already moving—pushing past the wreckage of the bar, shoving through the next corridor, running, running, running.
Izuku was here. He knew it.
The deeper All Might ran, the more the sounds of battle behind him faded, swallowed by the thick concrete walls of the hideout. The narrow corridors twisted, endless, winding into the shadows like a maze designed to trap and disorient.
Somewhere, beneath the scent of damp stone and metal, beneath the acrid bite of blood, beneath the distant echoes of fighting… Izuku had to be here.
He turned a corner to find a steel door. Bolted shut. Heavy locks lined the sides, reinforced hinges designed to withstand brute force.
But none of that mattered, All Might's fingers tightened, the muscles in his arms bulging as he stepped forward and swung.
The door exploded inward, metal crumpling under the sheer weight of his punch. Dust and debris flew outward, smoke curling around his silhouette as he stepped inside.
There, against the back wall, a small crumpled figure sat hunched over.
Izuku.
He was chained, shackled at the wrists and ankles, his arms pulled tight behind him in an unnatural angle. His clothes were torn, blood staining the once-pristine fabric, the bruises littering his skin telling a story far more violent than words ever could.
His head was slumped forward, unruly green hair matted with sweat and grime, his breathing shallow, slow.
For a second, a terrible, agonizing second, All Might thought he might be too late. Until slowly, weakly… Izuku lifted his head.
His eyes, dazed, unfocused, but still bright green locked onto him. All Might felt something inexplicable shatter in his chest. "Izuku…"
The boy blinked slowly, his gaze struggling to focus. A small, breathless sound. A whisper. "…A…All Might…?"
It was so soft, so disbelieving, like the voice of a child seeing his hero for the first time. And for a moment, All Might wasn't the Symbol of Peace. He wasn't the Number One Hero. He was just Toshinori Yagi, standing in front of a broken boy who still looked at him like he was everything.
His throat tightened, his chest ached, but he didn't let it show. He took a step forward, voice steady. "I'm here, young Midoriya."
Izuku's lips parted, something raw and frantic flickering in his gaze, like he was struggling to believe this was real. He tried to move, his shackles rattling, his arms straining, but his body was too weak.
All Might was there in an instant. One knee hit the ground as his hands gently gripped Izuku's shoulders, steadying him. His warmth was overwhelming against the cold.
"We're going to get you out of here," All Might said, voice thick with something unreadable. "I promise."
Izuku swallowed hard. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the boy let out a breath as he collapsed into All Might's arms.
All Might could hear the faintest hitch of breath as Izuku, his small, battered frame falling into his arms. His body was feverish, burning beneath his fingertips, the sweat and grime clinging to his skin making it clear—he had been here for too long. Too many days.
A slow breath shuddered through All Might's chest, his arms tightening instinctively, protectively, cradling the boy as gently as he could.
But there was no time to process. Izuku's wrists were still bound, the metal shackles biting deep into flesh that had already bruised and scabbed over, his ankles twisted at an angle that made All Might's stomach churn.
He adjusted his hold, shifting one arm to brace against Izuku's back while the other reached for the chains.
All Might exhaled, gritted his teeth, and pulled. The chains snapped like wet paper, the metal clattering uselessly against the stone floor. Izuku flinched at the noise but did not wake, his body completely limp in All Might's grasp.
The weight of him—it was wrong. Too light, too frail, like something had been taken from him, piece by piece, day by day, until all that remained was this hollowed-out shell of the boy All Might once knew.
All Might looked at him with soft eyes.. "What did they do to you?"
He pressed the radio at his collar, his voice steady despite the sheer rage coursing through his veins.
"I've found Midoriya," All Might announced, his tone like iron, unshakable despite the storm raging within him. "He was imprisoned, shackled in a locked room. Condition is critical—he needs immediate medical attention."
A beat of silence. Then, the radio erupted.
"Shackled?" It was Tsukauchi, his voice sharp, rattled. "All Might, confirm—are you saying he was restrained? Held captive?"
"Yes," All Might said simply.
Another pause, and then— "Damn it," Aizawa's voice filtered through, rough and weary. "That changes things. I thought for sure—" He cut himself off.
All Might didn't comment. He knew what Aizawa had suspected. What everyone had suspected. That Midoriya had turned, that he had chosen to be a villain… now they had some proof to contradict that. Izuku wasn't the enemy, he had been a prisoner.
The weight of that realization settled into All Might's chest, but he refused to acknowledge it—not yet. He couldn't let his relief show, couldn't let himself feel the sheer overwhelming flood of relief knowing that his boy hadn't betrayed them, hadn't walked willingly into the dark.
"Where's the medical truck?" All Might asked through the radio, adjusting Izuku's weight against his chest, cradling his head gently against his shoulder.
"Front of the building," came the swift response from the medical team. "We have a full unit waiting."
All Might nodded, though no one could see him, and turned sharply on his heel. As he carried Izuku through the crumbling corridors, radio chatter filled the silence around him.
"All villains are subdued or fleeing," Tsukauchi reported, his voice clipped, focused. "Dabi and Toga managed to escape. Tomura Shigaraki is still unaccounted for—last seen in the lower halls, but he's slipping through our grasp. Giran has been restrained by Gran Torino. The hideout is under control."
"Copy that," came Endeavor's voice, low and irritated. "Should I pursue?"
"Negative," Tsukauchi replied. "Contain the scene, secure any remaining hostiles, and focus on extraction. We can't afford to waste time chasing rats in the dark."
All Might ignored the rest of the conversation.
The outside air hit him like a wall, the scent of smoke, dust, and battle lingering in the night. The flashing red-and-blue lights of the police blockade illuminated the area, casting long, stretched-out shadows against the cold pavement.
The medical unit was already moving, professionals in white-and-blue uniforms rushing forward, gurney at the ready. All Might slowed, carefully lowering Izuku onto the stretcher, watching as the paramedics immediately began assessing his vitals, checking for internal damage, broken bones, signs of trauma.
"He's severely dehydrated," one of them muttered, flashing a light into Izuku's barely responsive eyes. "Pulse is weak, but stable. Multiple bruises, possible fractured ribs—how long was he down there?"
All Might's jaw clenched. "Too long," was all he said.
He took a step back as they secured an oxygen mask over Izuku's face, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven movements.
It was at this moment that Aizawa arrived. He was tense. His shoulders set, his expression unreadable beneath the still-present bandages wrapped around his head. Fatigue clung to him like a shadow, but his eyes remained sharp, unwavering.
All Might turned, ready to greet him, when he noticed the squad of officers standing behind him. Aizawa's gaze didn't waver.
"Toshinori," he started, voice firm. "Midoriya needs to be restrained." The words were like ice.
All Might stared. "You can't be serious," he murmured, barely above a whisper.
Aizawa exhaled slowly, his own exhaustion seeping into his posture, but his voice remained steady. "We don't know everything yet. We don't know what they did to him. We don't know if they forced him or if—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Until we can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that he is innocent, we have to follow protocol."
All Might felt a sharp spike of anger in his chest, something he hadn't felt in years.
"I saw him," he argued, his voice dangerously low. "He was chained to a wall, Aizawa. He's barely conscious. Does that look like the actions of a willing traitor to you?"
Aizawa's fingers twitched, and for a fraction of a second, something in his eyes flickered—hesitation. But he pushed past it. "It's not my call," he said, though the weight in his voice suggested he wasn't happy about it either.
The officers stepped forward. All Might stepped aside with all of his resolve, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he watched them produce quirk-dampening cuffs.
"This is a mistake," he murmured.
A/N: After a long hiatus... which over the years I did write here and there for several chapters. I have finally released what I have written. I have always loved My Hero Academia and thought to myself that making an Alternative Universe where Izuku Midoriya never turned out to be a hero was quite fascinating. I love stories that are dark, that have double meanings, morally grey characters and plots. All of which culminate in a reading experience that I could share to all of you. Sometimes if you can't find it yourself, just make one!
I do truly hope that you are enjoying this story so far and see parallels of the actual Manga/Anime. I always love reading your reviews, comments, things you like, or things you do not like. Feel free to share your thoughts and what you would like to see more! What you think might happen, love to see the discussions. Have a great day guys! My upload schedule will now slow down as I have to write the next chapters from a blank piece of paper, my backlog has ended... oh no. I cannot guarantee the upload schedule, but I will do my best to upload at least once every 1-2 weeks if possible! Have a great day guys!