Todoroki's world spun violently as the most villainous warp enveloped him, yanking him from the chaotic scene at the USJ plaza and hurling him into the unknown. The swirling darkness disoriented him for only a moment, but he quickly recovered, his mind snapping into focus. He'd trained for situations like this—unexpected, jarring, and potentially deadly. He wouldn't let it shake him.

The sensation of falling hit him next, his stomach lurching as the ground disappeared beneath him. Instinctively, Todoroki braced himself, his muscles tensing as the mist spit him out into the open air. The scene before him rushed into clarity—the jagged cliffs and rocky terrain of the Landslide Zone stretched below him, the wind whipping at his hair as he fell from the sky.

He had seconds to react.

With a sharp intake of breath, Todoroki thrust his right arm out, releasing a powerful wave of ice from his fingertips. The ice exploded from his hand, forming a massive, curving slope beneath him. The frozen arc caught him just before he hit the ground, softening his landing and sending him sliding down the ice with practiced ease. He skidded to a stop at the base of the slope, his breath steady, his mind already calculating his next move.

Todoroki's sharp eyes scanned his surroundings. He had landed near the top of a mountain—rocky, unstable terrain before him. The sky above was dark with manufactured clouds, casting long shadows over the jagged landscape. The smell of earth and dust filled the air, mixed with the faint scent of something burning, likely from previous combat simulations in this zone.

And then he saw them.

At least a dozen villains stood scattered across the mountainside, their forms outlined by the shadows. Their grins were wide, feral like they had been waiting for him—waiting for a challenge. They didn't seem surprised to see him, as if they had known exactly where he would land. Some of them held weapons—rusted chains, crude knives, and metal pipes—while others cracked their knuckles or flexed their hands, quirks ready to be unleashed.

For a brief moment, confusion flickered in Todoroki's mind. How did the villains know where to send him? Was it random, or was this planned? But the thought didn't linger. There was no time for questions. The situation was what it was, and he needed to deal with it.

His father's voice echoed in his mind, cold and demanding.

Assess. React. Dominate.

Todoroki's expression remained stoic, his breath steady. His left hand twitched slightly, but he forced it to stay still. He wouldn't use his fire. Not now. Not yet. He didn't need it. His ice would be more than enough.

The villains began to move, their malicious grins widening as they advanced toward him. Some leaped across the rocks quickly, while others seemed to manipulate the terrain, their quirks allowing them to shift the stones beneath their feet.

But Todoroki was faster.

With a cold, emotionless precision, he thrust his right hand forward. Ice erupted from his palm in a massive wave, spreading everywhere. The cold air crackled as the temperature around him dropped sharply. In an instant, the ground froze beneath the villains, creeping up their legs and trapping them in place.

Their grins faltered as the ice spread, encasing them in thick, jagged layers. Their movements became sluggish as the frost bit into their skin, and their weapons clattered to the ground as their bodies froze solid. In seconds, the entire mountainside was covered in ice, and the villains were trapped in a glistening, frozen prison.

Todoroki lowered his hand, his expression unreadable as he surveyed his work. The villains were immobilized, their faces contorted in shock and fear, but Todoroki felt no satisfaction. He had done what was necessary. Nothing more, nothing less.

The cold air swirled around him as he stepped forward, his eyes scanning the area for any remaining threats. The ice under his feet crunched with each step, the sound echoing in the stillness of the mountainside. The fight was over before it had even begun.

But Todoroki knew better than to relax. His father had drilled that into him from a young age—never let your guard down. Always be prepared for the next challenge. Always be one step ahead.

Todoroki moved professionally, the cold bite of the ice still hanging in the air, his breath steady, his eyes cold. The frozen bodies of villains dotted the rocky terrain, the eerie quiet of the Landslide Zone broken only by the occasional creak of ice expanding under the pressure of the trapped criminals. His control had been precise—enough to immobilize them but not to kill. He wasn't his father. He didn't seek to destroy, only to neutralize.

But now, he needed information. Kurogiri's precision in placing him here, among so many villains, gnawed at him. It couldn't have been random. The villains had been waiting, positioned like pieces on a board, anticipating his arrival. That meant there was a plan, a structure to their chaos, and Todoroki wasn't someone who would stand by while his classmates faced the unknown.

One of the villains was still conscious, frozen up to his chest. His eyes darted around, wide with fear, his breath shallow and uneven, misting in the cold air. He wasn't large or particularly menacing—just a man in his mid-twenties with a buzz cut and rough hands, but he had a look about him that said he'd seen enough violence to know what fear was. And right now, he was terrified.

Todoroki approached slowly, his boots crunching against the frozen ground. His face was a mask of calm indifference, but a storm of thoughts swirled inside. How many more of his classmates were scattered in these zones, surrounded by enemies? Who else had been caught in that villain's mist? And how long until backup arrived—if it ever did?

The villain's eyes snapped to Todoroki as he drew closer, and the man visibly tensed. "W-what are you doing, kid?" His voice was strained, rough from the cold. His lips were beginning to turn blue, and his breath hitched in visible clouds of vapor.

Todoroki didn't answer immediately. He stopped just a few feet away, letting the silence hang between them. His mind was calculating, assessing. He needed answers, but he needed to ask the right questions. His father had drilled that into him, too. Efficient, methodical. Get what you need, no more, no less.

"Who sent you here?" Todoroki asked. His breath didn't fog in the cold air like the villain's.

The man's eyes flickered in fear, darting around as if looking for an escape. But there was none. The ice held him fast, and Todoroki's presence was suffocating in its calm intensity.

"L-listen, kid, I don't know nothin', alright? I was just... just following orders," the villain stammered, his breath quickening, his muscles visibly straining against the ice, even though he knew it was pointless.

Todoroki's eyes narrowed slightly, "Orders from who?"

The man's teeth chattered, his jaw clenched in frustration. He was trapped, and he knew it. "I ain't gonna tell you anything. You're just some hero brat—what do you even know about the real world?"

Todoroki's expression didn't change, though a cold anger simmered beneath the surface. His father and people like this villain repeatedly heard the same words, accusing him of being sheltered, not understanding the stakes, and being weak. But that anger didn't show on his face. It fueled him.

"I don't care about your excuses," Todoroki said, taking a step closer, "You know what I can do. You know I can make this much worse for you."

He reached down slowly, touching the ground near the villain's feet. A thin layer of ice crawled up his legs, freezing them a little more and sending a shock of cold deeper into his bones. The villain let out a sharp, strangled gasp, his body stiffening in pain.

"Stop! Just—just stop!" the man sputtered, his eyes wide with fear now, truly realizing how helpless he was. His breath was ragged, panic setting in as the cold gnawed at his skin, biting deeper. "Alright! Alright, I'll talk! Just—just get me out of this!"

Todoroki didn't move. His face remained impassive, his hand still resting against the ice. He could feel the cold in his fingers, but he didn't care. "Talk first."

The villain swallowed hard, his breath still coming in short, sharp gasps. "It's—it's Shigaraki! Tomura Shigaraki! He's the one leading this... this whole thing. He's obsessed with takin' down All Might—thinks if he kills the Symbol of Peace, everything'll fall apart. He has this guy—nothing—that he says will kill him. T-that's all I know! Please let me go!"

Todoroki's mind churned with the villain's words, though his face remained a mask of calm. Shigaraki, he thought, turning the name over in his head. It didn't mean anything to him, but the weight of the villain's tone implied far more than just a random thug.

The villain shivered in the ice, his lips blue, his breath coming out in shallow clouds as he stared at Todoroki, equal parts pleading and defiant. Todoroki could feel the slight tremor in the ice beneath his hand, the faint vibrations of life struggling against the cold, and he reminded himself that he was here to be a hero. Not a weapon, not an extension of his father's ambition. He was here to save lives, even those he didn't sympathize with.

But there's still more I need to know.

Todoroki looked. "The mist. The one who brought me here—who is he?"

The man's eyes flickered, a glint of recognition before he tried to mask it with a blank stare.

"I... I don't know much," he whispered, but his gaze betrayed him.

Todoroki leaned closer, allowing a small pulse of cold to shoot through the ice, enough to elicit a gasp from the villain. "Don't lie to me," he said, his voice like ice, "You know who he is. Tell me."

The villain grimaced, his teeth clenched tightly, but fear won out over whatever loyalty he might have harbored. "His name's Kurogiri," he muttered, his breath hitching as the cold gnawed deeper into his bones. "He's... some kind of warped mist. Works with Shigaraki. Real loyal to him. He's the one who... who brought us here, split you kids up."

Todoroki's expression darkened. The precision of their separation and the deliberate scattering of his classmates across these zones pointed to a carefully laid trap. Kurogiri had chosen where to send each of them, separating them to reduce their strength, to overwhelm them individually. Whoever this Shigaraki was, he hadn't come here unprepared. This wasn't a chaotic attack but a calculated assault on UA itself.

His classmates' faces flashed in his mind. They were all somewhere out there, facing dangers as real and deadly as his own. It was impossible to shake the thought that any one of them could be cornered, surrounded, even hurt—or worse—if he didn't act quickly. He wasn't here to make friends, except he wouldn't let villains hurt future heroes.

"Where did you take the others?" Todoroki demanded, "Where are the students?"

The villain's gaze dropped. "They're spread out," he murmured, teeth chattering. Each zone has a crew. We got orders to keep you busy and ensure none of you could get back together. They're in the Flood Zone, the Fire Zone... all over."

Todoroki removed his hand from the ice with a slow, controlled movement. His gaze softened slightly, and he exhaled a controlled breath, releasing the intense focus of his quirk. The ice around the villain's feet and legs began to melt, trickles of water running down to the ground, easing the bite of the cold just enough to prevent frostbite.

He wanted to be a hero—not a brute, not a weapon. There was a line he would never cross, a line his father had shown him repeatedly, with every bruising training session, with every harsh word. Todoroki had learned that cruelty didn't make you strong but hollow. He wasn't here to terrorize. He was here to protect, even if that meant sparing someone who didn't deserve it.

The villain looked up, surprise and relief mingling in his gaze as the ice began to thaw. He seemed on the verge of saying something, perhaps gratitude, perhaps another plea. But Todoroki had already turned away, his mind racing to process everything he'd learned. The man would remain there, trapped but alive. Todoroki didn't need him anymore.

Todoroki's eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. If his classmates were scattered throughout the zones, then time was against them. He'd need to move fast, help where possible, and return to the others.

Then, something caught his eye.

A few cliffs down, beyond a jutting ridge of rock, a faint plume of dust spiraled into the air. This was followed by an explosion of electricity that lit up the landscape in a flash of white-yellow light. The energy crackled and surged, casting eerie shadows against the jagged rocks, the light flickering like a signal in the distance.

Kaminari, Todoroki thought.

Katsuki was never afraid of some damn small fire villains who couldn't even touch him. He knew he could've taken all of them by himself. Yet, Katsuki smiled internally. He didn't think the crazy redhead, Kirishima, could keep up. For an extra, he can fight.

Katsuki's senses flared, the overwhelming heat licking at his skin as he stood amidst the chaos of the Fire Zone. Flames danced around him, wild and uncontrollable, their heat pressing in from all sides. The stench of smoke filled his nostrils, thick and acrid, but he didn't flinch. If anything, he felt alive. This was what he thrived in—fire, chaos, the adrenaline of combat coursing through his veins like an electric current.

His gaze shifted to the figure beside him—Kirishima. The idiot was grinning, his sharp teeth glinting in the fiery light, fists clenched and ready. Katsuki had to admit that the redhead had guts. Most people would've been panicking, especially with villains closing in from every direction. But Kirishima? He was practically excited as if he were about to throw down in some friendly sparring match instead of an all-out brawl.

"Heh, looks like we got some real fun lined up for us!" Kirishima shouted over the roar of the flames, his eyes gleaming as he cracked his knuckles. "You ready, Bakugou?"

Katsuki smirked, rolling his shoulders as he sized up the villains surrounding them. "Hah! These losers don't stand a chance." His voice was confident, bordering on cocky, but he knew he could back it up. This was what he lived for. He didn't care about the villains, the heat, or being surrounded. This was his element.

Around them, the Fire Zone looked like something out of a nightmare. The ruins of what had once been a mock building loomed overhead, its skeletal structure twisted and charred, like the remains of a massive beast scorched by its flame. Broken beams jutted out from the crumbling walls, their edges glowing red-hot, while smaller fires smoldered in every corner of the room, casting eerie shadows that flickered and danced.

The villains were closing in, their expressions varying from smug confidence to crazed excitement. Most of them had quirks that seemed tailor-made for the fiery environment—they controlled flames, generated heat, or possessed fireproof skin. They probably thought that gave them an edge.

Idiots, Katsuki thought with a snarl. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

He clenched his fists and let out a low growl.

"Get in my way, and I'll blow you all to hell!" His words were a promise, delivered with the kind of intensity that left no room for doubt. He would burn through anyone who stood in his path.

One of the villains stepped forward, a smirk plastered across his face as he held out a hand. Flames licked at his fingertips, small at first but quickly growing into a blazing inferno that enveloped his entire arm. "Think you're tough, kid? Let's see if you're fireproof!"

Katsuki's smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing as he met the villain's gaze. "Fireproof?" he sneered, lifting his arm, "I don't need to be fireproof to kick your ass."

Without warning, he lunged forward, his palm emitting a powerful blast that propelled him toward the villain. The explosion left a trail of heat and smoke in its wake, and Katsuki reveled in the feeling of power surging through him. His entire body moved like a well-oiled machine, every muscle perfectly attuned to the fight.

The villain barely had time to react before Katsuki's fist connected with his gut, the force of the explosion sending him flying backward. The man crashed into a wall, the impact leaving a deep crater in the already cracked and blackened concrete. He slid to the ground, groaning in pain, the flames around his arm flickering and dying out as he slumped forward, unconscious.

"Is that all you got?" Katsuki spat, "Pathetic."

"Damn, Bakugou!" Kirishima laughed, his voice carrying an edge of admiration as he squared off against another villain, "Leave some for me!"

Katsuki barely spared him a glance. "Try not to slow me down, Shitty Hair."

Kirishima just grinned, his teeth bared in a fierce smile as he cracked his knuckles. "You kidding? Let's make this a competition! First one to knock out ten wins!"

Katsuki scoffed, a spark of competitive fire igniting in his eyes. "You're on."

With that, they both surged forward, diving headfirst into the throng of villains with reckless abandon. The Fire Zone was a chaotic mess of heat and smoke, but neither hesitated. This was what they trained for—no, this was what they were born for.

A villain with skin like molten lava swung at Kirishima, his fist blazing with an intense heat that would have incinerated an ordinary person. But Kirishima met him head-on, his quirk activating instantly as his skin hardened to a rock-like texture. The villain's punch landed with a loud clang, but Kirishima barely flinched, quickly absorbing the blow.

"Not bad," Kirishima grunted, grinning as he countered with a powerful right hook that sent the villain staggering back. "But I'm tougher than you, buddy!"

Katsuki, meanwhile, was already tearing through his opponents with ruthless efficiency. He didn't hold back—every punch, every blast was delivered with the intent to end the fight in a single strike. One villain tried to sneak up on him from behind, but Katsuki sensed the movement and spun around, releasing an explosion that sent the attacker flying back with a scream.

"You think you can sneak up on me?" Katsuki snarled, his eyes blazing. "You're nothing but trash!"

Another villain charged at him, this one with elongated arms that wrapped around his body like fiery whips. Katsuki dodged the first swing, ducking under the villain's arm before slamming his gauntlet against the man's side. He triggered a controlled blast, sending the villain sprawling to the ground with a pained gasp.

The flames around them seemed to respond to the intensity of the fight, growing hotter and wilder with every passing second. The air was thick with smoke, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead, but Katsuki didn't care. The heat, the chaos—it all felt like home to him. This was where he belonged, in the heart of the inferno, surrounded by enemies and fighting with everything he had.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kirishima taking on two villains at once; his body hardened like a stone as he deflected their attacks. Kirishima's laughter echoed through the burning room, full of life and energy. The guy was a damn idiot, Katsuki thought, but at least he could hold his own.

"Hey, Bakugou!" Kirishima called out, his voice muffled by the sound of flames crackling around them. "How many have you got so far?"

Katsuki smirked, his gaze locking onto another villain cautiously approaching him, a ball of flame hovering above his hand. "Eight," he replied, his tone cocky. "Try to keep up, Shitty Hair."

Kirishima let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, it's on!"

The villain in front of Katsuki sneered, clearly offended by his lack of attention. "You think this is a game, kid?" he growled. I'll show you what real power is!"

Katsuki rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before."

The villain raised his hand, the ball of flame growing in size until it was nearly as big as Katsuki's head. He hurled it forward with a snarl, the fireball hurtling through the air like a comet. But Katsuki didn't even flinch. He raised his palm and released a precise blast, intercepting the fireball and detonating it midair. The explosion lit up the room, the shockwave rattling the walls and sending embers scattering in all directions.

"Is that all you got?" Katsuki taunted, his smirk widening, "Pathetic."

The villain's face twisted in rage, but before he could retaliate, Katsuki was already moving. He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his body a blur as he launched forward. He planted his feet, his fists clenched, and let loose a devastating explosion that sent the villain flying backward, slamming him into a wall with enough force to knock him out cold.

"Nine," Katsuki muttered, brushing a stray spark from his shoulder.

He glanced at Kirishima, grappling with a huge villain covered in scales. The guy looked like he'd walked straight out of a monster movie, his muscles bulging and his skin rough and thick like armor. Kirishima was laughing, his voice bright and excited as he met the villain's attacks head-on, his hardened fists clashing against the scales with a satisfying crunch.

"Come on!" Kirishima shouted, grinning wildly. "You're gonna have to hit harder than that if you wanna take me down!"

The scaly villain let out a roar, swinging a massive fist toward Kirishima's head. But Kirishima ducked, rolling to the side before delivering a powerful punch to the villain's gut. The force of the blow was enough to make the man stagger, his scaly armor cracking under the impact.

Katsuki shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, "Idiot," he muttered. Kirishima might be a fool, but he was a damn good fighter.

The sound of footsteps drew Katsuki's attention, and he turned to see another villain approaching him, a smug grin plastered across his face. This one looked different—he was lean, almost wiry, with a twisted expression that radiated malice. As he advanced, his hands crackled with electricity, and small arcs of lightning danced between his fingers.

"You're pretty good, kid," the villain sneered, "But let's see how you handle this!"

Before Katsuki could react, the villain thrust his hands forward, releasing a bolt of electricity that shot toward him like a spear. The air hummed with energy, the crackling sound filling the room as the lightning closed on him.

But Katsuki was faster.

He ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the bolt of electricity, and immediately retaliated with a powerful blast from his gauntlet. The explosion caught the villain off guard, sending him stumbling backward, but he quickly regained his footing, his eyes narrowing.

"Think you're clever, huh?" the villain growled, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're nothing but a punk kid playing hero."

Katsuki's eyes blazed with fury. "Shut up," he spat, "I'll show you who you're messing with."

He launched forward, his body a blur as he closed the distance between them. The villain tried to dodge, but Katsuki was relentless, his movements precise and calculated. He unleashed a series of rapid explosions, each propelling him closer to his target until he was right in the villain's face.

"Die!" Katsuki roared, delivering a devastating blast that sent the villain crashing to the ground. His body twitched as the electricity dissipated.

Katsuki straightened, his chest heaving as he surveyed the fallen villain with satisfaction. "Ten," he muttered, glancing over at Kirishima. "Looks like I win."

Kirishima, who had just finished dispatching his opponent, looked over and laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, you got me this time, Baku-bro." He gave Katsuki a thumbs-up, h. "But next time, I'm taking the win!"

"Unlikely, Shitty Hair."

As they stood amidst the wreckage of the Fire Zone, the smoke and heat swirling around them, Katsuki felt a strange sense of satisfaction settle over him. This was where he thrived—in the heart of the inferno, surrounded by enemies and fighting with everything he had. He didn't care about being liked, fitting in, or playing nice. All that mattered was winning, proving himself, and showing everyone he was the strongest.

But as he looked over at Kirishima, who was still grinning like an idiot despite the bruises and burns, a small part of him acknowledged that maybe... just maybe, fighting alongside someone wasn't so bad.

"Come on," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned toward the exit. "Let's get outta here before more of these losers appear."

Kirishima stepped beside him, his laughter echoing through the burning room as they exited. They had won, but Katsuki knew this was just the beginning. He saw it right before the mist guy took them over.

Katsuki released a low breath as he and Kirishima stepped away from the charred wreckage of the Fire Zone. His chest rose and fell with the lingering thrill of the fight, the scent of smoke still clinging to his skin. It was a victory, sure, but something gnawed at him, a sensation he couldn't quite shake. His mind drifted back to the moment before Kurogiri's mist swallowed them, back to the chaotic scene at the USJ entrance.

He had been ready for anything—or so he thought. His instincts, honed through years of training and sheer stubborn will, had never failed him. Katsuki didn't flinch in the face of danger. But this time... this time was different.

He remembered standing there, fists clenched, surrounded by villains, and then he'd seen it. That creature, that... thing. It wasn't like any villain he'd faced before. Its towering frame seemed to consume the air around it, its skin as dark as midnight, and its face... that twisted, unnatural bird-like face, cold and devoid of expression. A beast. A monster straight out of a nightmare.

His gut had twisted. Fear wasn't something Katsuki Bakugou indulged in. Fear was for the weak who couldn't handle the pressure. But standing there, just for a split second, he felt it—a prickle at the back of his neck, a tightening in his chest, instincts screaming at him to back off, to get away from that... thing.

He didn't want to look at Kirishima, didn't want his friend to see that flicker of doubt, of hesitation. But at that moment, as Aizawa charged forward, throwing himself into the fray with reckless abandon, Katsuki's fists clenched tighter, and his knuckles were white under his gloves. It took everything in him to fight the urge to step back, to stay and face the impending chaos.

And then, before he could react, the mist had consumed them, separating them from Aizawa and the others. Just a swirling blackness, pulling him away, scattering him into the depths of the USJ with only a split-second image of that beast burned into his mind.

Now, as the embers of the Fire Zone smoldered around him, Katsuki shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his face hardening. Whatever that thing was, he'd face it. He'd tear it apart, fear be damned. He wouldn't let some overgrown monster or a gang of second-rate villains make him feel this way.

Kirishima glanced at him, his usual grin faltering momentarily as if he could sense the change in Katsuki's mood. But Katsuki didn't say anything, didn't explain. He'd keep this feeling buried, deep, where no one could see. He'd prove himself, once and for all.

"Let's go," he muttered.

"You should've been more careful, Eraserhead. You underestimated me. And now you're going to pay for it."

Shigaraki seemed excited.

Izuku's breath caught as he watched Aizawa backpedaling, his face grim as he faced down the crowd of villains. Every blow, every twist of his capture scarf, came slower, more labored. Blood dripped from Aizawa's wounded arm, but he didn't waver, his resolve like iron. Still, Izuku could see it: the exhaustion, the growing vulnerability, the way Aizawa's stance faltered, even if only for a moment.

Shigaraki's mocking voice sliced through the tense air, "Nomu, get him."

The command hung like a death sentence. And then there was a blur—a shape moving faster than Izuku's eyes could follow, barreling past Shigaraki like a thunderbolt. The ground trembled with its impact as it crashed into Aizawa with brutal force, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Izuku's heart pounded against his ribs, his mind freezing as he took in the creature that had blindsided Aizawa. It was monstrous—a towering figure of muscle and sinew, with skin as dark and twisted as nightmares, its face a grotesque, featureless mask, like some perversion of a bird's beak.

The Nomu.

It was the same creature. The same monster that had ambushed him that night. The thing that had come so close to killing him, tearing through every defense he had. Every muscle in Izuku's body locked, the memory of that night slamming into him like a hammer, stealing the breath from his lungs. The darkness, the feeling of his blood slipping through his fingers as he tried to survive its relentless assault, the terror clawing at his throat.

His legs trembled, his instincts screaming at him to run, to get as far away as possible. But he couldn't. Aizawa-sensei was lying on the ground, struggling to get back up as the Nomu loomed over him, its empty gaze fixed and unfeeling.

Izuku's hands shook, clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms. He couldn't move. His racing and frantic mind begged him to do something, but his feet were rooted in place, frozen by the overwhelming terror surging through him.

The Nomu lifted a massive arm, its fingers twitching, ready to strike down his teacher.

Izuku's breath caught in his throat, helpless as he watched the nightmare from that night bear down on Aizawa.