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Chapter Three

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and the gentle whoosh of the ventilator. Inko Midoriya lay motionless in the hospital bed, her forest green hair framing her pale face like a wild, untamed halo. It had been five years since the tragic day when she was caught in the crossfire between All For One and All Might, five years since her world had been turned upside down.

Mitsuki Bakugou sat by her bedside, her gaze fixed on her friend's serene face. "Inko, you have to wake up," she whispered, her voice laced with a desperation she allowed no one else to see. "Satoru needs you... I need you."

The doctors had said there was little hope, but Mitsuki refused to give up. She clung to the belief that Inko could hear her, that somewhere in the depths of her coma, she was fighting to come back.

Mitsuki's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a nurse, who came to check Inko's vitals. "Any change?" Mitsuki asked, though she knew the answer.

The nurse shook her head, her expression sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bakugou. She's stable, but there's been no improvement."

Mitsuki nodded, her hands clenched into fists. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a murmur.

As the nurse left, Mitsuki turned back to Inko, her eyes welling with tears. "Where are you, Satoru?" she thought, her heart aching for the boy who had vanished without a trace. "Your mother is here, waiting for you, and so am I."

The room was filled with the silent prayers of a best friend, the unspoken hopes that Inko would awaken, that Satoru would be found, and that their shattered family would be whole once more.

The hospital room, bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun, was a silent witness to the tableau of sorrow and hope. Mitsuki Bakugou's voice, gentle and unwavering, filled the space as she spoke to her comatose friend, Inko Midoriya. "You're not alone, Inko. We're all here for you... Satoru is out there, and we'll find him."

In the corner stood Katsuki Bakugou, his crimson eyes fixed on the scene before him. His mother's words were a balm to his own aching heart, but they couldn't quell the storm raging within him. Satoru, his childhood friend, had been missing for five years—five years too long.

"I'll find you, Satoru," Katsuki thought, his fists clenching at his sides. "No matter where you are, no matter what it takes. I'll become the hero you always believed I could be."

His resolve was a silent oath, a promise etched into the very fiber of his being. He remembered the days when he and Satoru would talk about the future, about being heroes together. Those memories were now the fuel that ignited his determination.

Mitsuki turned to leave, her hand lingering on Inko's for a moment longer. "Katsuki," she said softly, "it's time to go."

Katsuki nodded, his gaze never leaving Inko's face. "I'll be back, Auntie Inko," he whispered, though he knew she couldn't hear him. "And I'll bring Satoru with me."

As they left the hospital room, the weight of their shared mission hung heavy in the air. Katsuki Bakugou, the boy with the explosive power and fiery spirit, had a new goal: to reunite a family torn apart by tragedy and to fulfill a vow made in the quiet of a hospital room.

In the bustling heart of the city, hidden beneath layers of strict rules and hidden agendas, lay a mysterious facility known only to a chosen few. Its walls, fortified with lead and soundproofing, seemed to hold within them the murmurs of what was yet to come; children possessing abilities so immense and unbridled that the world outside was deemed unprepared to witness them.

The Nursery's halls are silent, save for the soft hum of high-tech monitoring equipment. Here, children with extraordinary quirks—abilities so powerful they could shake the very foundations of the world—are kept under constant surveillance.

In one of the rooms, a young boy named Kaito sits quietly, his eyes glowing faintly as he levitates small objects around him. He's unaware of the debates about his future, the ethical quandaries his mere existence poses to those who watch over him.

The Nursery, a fortress of order and discipline, is home to more than just Kaito. Each child here is a prodigy, their quirks a blend of wonder and danger.

There's Hina, whose whispers can calm the fiercest storms, yet she sits silently, her voice unheard by the world outside. Across from her, Daichi's eyes can see through walls, through lies, but they're clouded with the weight of constant observation.

Dr. Hikari's second-in-command, Dr. Yamada, is a stern figure who views the children as subjects first, individuals second. "Emotions cloud judgment," he often says, his gaze fixed on the data that streams in 24/7.

Nurse Aiko, known for her efficiency, administers tests with a mechanical precision. She never smiles at the children; her face is an unreadable mask. "Attachment is a liability," she reminds her staff, "We're here to monitor, not to mother."

In a special containment room, there's Yuto, whose touch can alter reality. He's never known a mother's hug or a father's pat on the back—only the cold embrace of restraints designed to dampen his quirk.

The staff move through their tasks with a clinical detachment, their reports devoid of adjectives, their conversations a string of numbers and observations. They believe in the mission of The Nursery—to control the uncontrollable, to harness the future's power.

Yet, in the quiet moments, when the children's laughter pierces the sterile air, some staff members feel a twinge of something they dare not name. It's quickly buried under layers of protocol and professionalism, for in The Nursery, there's no room for sentiment—only the relentless pursuit of stability in a world teetering on the brink of chaos.

In the dimly lit confines of a hidden bar, a place untouched by the law and unseen by heroes, Tomura Shigaraki sat across from Kurogiri, his disfigured hands tapping an erratic rhythm on the table. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and darker secrets.

"Kurogiri," Tomura began, his voice a low growl, "you know why we're here, don't you? It's all part of his plan."

Kurogiri's misty form wavered slightly, the only sign of his acknowledgment. "Yes, Tomura. All For One has entrusted you with his legacy. His defeat by All Might was but a temporary setback."

Tomura's lips curled into a semblance of a smile, a twisted expression that belied the chaos in his heart. "They think they've won, that they've saved society from his clutches. Fools, all of them."

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "All For One is not just a man; he is an idea, a promise of a new order. And I am his chosen successor. His will is mine to enact."

Kurogiri nodded; his voice steady as ever. "The heroes believe in a false peace, but you, Tomura, will be the harbinger of truth. The world will witness the power of his will through you."

Tomura's fingers stopped their tapping, and he fixed Kurogiri with a piercing stare. "Tell me, Kurogiri, do you ever doubt the path we're on?"

For a moment, there was silence, and then Kurogiri replied, "Doubt is a luxury we cannot afford. Our conviction must be absolute, for our cause is greater than any one of us."

Tomura stood up, his presence filling the room like a dark cloud. "Then let us begin. The heroes are not prepared for what's to come. We will shatter their illusion of safety, and when the dust settles, it will be us who forge the world anew."

Kurogiri's form shifted, ready to obey. "Where shall we start, Tomura?"

A wicked grin spread across Tomura's face. "We start by sowing discord, by showing them that their heros are nothing but fragile idols waiting to be toppled. We strike at the heart of their society, and we do it now."

As they left the bar, the shadows seemed to whisper of the coming storm, a tempest that would test the very foundations of hero society. Tomura Shigaraki, the chosen heir of All For One, was ready to claim his destiny, and nothing would stand in his way.

The hallowed halls of The Nursery grew tense with anticipation as the legendary hero All Might arrived. His towering presence seemed to fill every corner of the facility, a beacon of hope and strength in a place shrouded in secrecy.

Dr. Hikari, her face a mask of professionalism, greeted him with a firm handshake. "All Might, your visit honors us," she said, her voice betraying none of the nervousness that fluttered in her stomach.

"Welcome, All Might," her words resonated faintly in the sterile air, the echoes hinting at the gravity of their undertaking. "I trust your journey was without incident?"

"All journeys hold their own weight," All Might responded, his voice a reassuring rumble in the somber atmosphere. He fell into step behind Dr. Fuyumi, allowing her to lead him through the labyrinthine corridors, each twist and turn drawing them deeper into the core of the facility.

She was nervous and All Might could sense it— not everyone meets the number one hero every day.

All Might's booming laugh echoed off the walls. "I'm here to understand, not to intimidate," he replied, his smile as wide as ever. "Tell me about your work, Doctor."

As they walked through the facility, Dr. Hikari explained their protocols, the necessity of their actions, and the importance of keeping these powerful children under control. All Might listened intently, his usual joviality replaced by a somber nod here and there.

Their progression halted before a door of heightened fortification, distinguished by a small window offering a glimpse into the chamber beyond. Within, a figure sat in serene solitude, engrossed in the pages of a book, vibrant green locks falling in disarray around his focused gaze.

All Might gave them a sad look before continuing to follow the doctor. Finally, he reaches the observation room in which he was greeted by Doctor Sato, the director.

In the observation room, All Might turned to Mr. Sato, his eyes serious. "How do you feel about all this, Mr. Sato?" he asked.

Mr. Sato hesitated, his professional facade cracking for a moment. "We do what must be done, for the greater good," he replied, but his heart ached with the weight of his words.

All Might placed a reassuring hand on Mr. Sato's shoulder. "It's a heavy burden, to carry the future on your shoulders," he said softly. "But remember, these children are not just quirks; they are the hope of our world."

Dr. Yamada interjected; his tone clinical. "We appreciate your sentiment, All Might, but we must remain detached. Emotions have no place in The Nursery."

All Might turned to face Dr. Yamada, his eyes piercing. "Even heroes need compassion, Doctor. Without it, we lose sight of why we fight."

The staff exchanged glances, All Might's words stirring something within them they had long been trained to suppress. As the symbol of peace left The Nursery, his words lingered, a gentle reminder that even in a place like this, humanity must prevail.

The air in The Nursery grew thick with tension as All Might's voice, usually so full of cheer, took on a grave tone. "There's a boy I've been searching for," he said, his eyes scanning the faces of the staff. "Five years old, goes by the name of Satoru Midoriya."

Dr. Hikari's eyes flickered away for a fraction of a second before regaining her composure. "Many children pass through here, All Might," she replied, her voice steady. "We can't possibly remember them all."

All Might's gaze didn't waver. "But you do remember him, don't you, Doctor?" he pressed, sensing the shift in the room.

Dr. Yamada stepped forward, attempting to redirect the conversation. "All Might, let us show you the advancements we've made in quirk analysis," he offered, but the hero wasn't swayed.

"I didn't come here for a tour, Doctor," All Might said firmly. "I came for answers about Satoru."

The staff exchanged nervous glances, their professional facades cracking under the weight of All Might's scrutiny. Nurse Aiko finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "He was here," she admitted, "but his power... it was unlike anything we've ever seen."

All Might leaned in, his towering figure casting a long shadow. "What happened to him?" he demanded, his usual warmth replaced by an uncharacteristic edge. He was searching for the boy for years, but each time he found the boy's whereabouts, the boy was taken away somewhere else. It was plain and simple, the higher-ups were trying to turn him into a weapon. It was for the betterment of the society, but the boy's innocence comes first! "Answer me!"

Dr. Hikari sighed, the burden of truth too heavy to bear any longer. "Satoru's quirk was... volatile. We couldn't contain it. He's no longer at The Nursery," she confessed, avoiding All Might's piercing gaze.

The atmosphere in The Nursery was charged with a palpable tension as All Might's usual composure gave way to a rare display of fury. "If you don't start talking, I'll have this place shut down!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the corridors like a tempest.

Dr. Hikari, who had always maintained an icy exterior, felt a shiver run down her spine. The sight of the world's greatest hero, his face twisted in anger, was enough to break through even her disciplined demeanor.

"We... We don't know where he is," she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush. "But there was talk of a high-security confinement in Tokyo. It's where we send the most... challenging cases."

All Might's eyes narrowed. "Where in Tokyo?" he demanded, his towering figure seeming to loom even larger.

Dr. Yamada, who had always prided himself on his unflappable nature, swallowed hard. The hero's rage was a force of nature, and in its wake, his resolve crumbled. "Shinjuku," he whispered. "There's a facility there, hidden beneath the cityscape. That's all I know, I swear."

All Might's anger subsided as quickly as it had erupted, replaced by a steely determination. "Shinjuku," he repeated, the name now etched into his mission. "Thank you, Doctor."

As the hero departed, the staff of The Nursery were left in a stunned silence, the echoes of his promise to find Satoru Midoriya reverberating in their minds. They knew that All Might's quest was far from over, and that the fate of one boy could change the course of history.

"Satoru Midoriya," All Might repeated softly, the name hanging in the air like a promise. "I will find him, no matter what it takes."

As All Might departed, the staff of The Nursery were left with the echo of his vow and the knowledge that the boy they couldn't control was out there, somewhere, with a power that could change the world.

Behind the one-way mirror, a group of doctors and researchers observed a boy with clinical detachment. Dr. Fujita, the lead researcher, adjusted his glasses, peering intently at the boy who defied all their expectations.

"He's extraordinary," Dr. Fujita murmured, making a note on his clipboard. "His quirk's complexity is beyond what we've seen before."

Dr. Kano, a young researcher with a keen interest in quirk evolution, nodded in agreement. "It's as if he's evolving right before our eyes. If we could only harness his abilities..."

Beside them, Dr. Kyotaka, the head of the facility, stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "We're not here to 'harness' anything, Kano," he said sharply. "Our job is to understand and protect society from potential threats."

"But isn't that a waste?" Dr. Kano pressed, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and awe. "To keep such power locked away?"

Dr. Kyotaka turned to him, his gaze stern. "Remember why we're here. We've seen what happens when power like this goes unchecked. It's not about what we could do; it's about what we should do."

In the silence that followed, each member of the team was left with their own thoughts. Some wondered about the ethics of their work, others about the potential breakthroughs the child's quirk could bring. But all understood the gravity of their task, the delicate balance they had to maintain in a world where the line between hero and villain was ever so thin.

Kyotaka decided to complete his routine.

Satoru sat cross-legged on the floor; his eyes closed in concentration. Within him, two personalities vied for dominance: Midoriya, the compassionate 'hero-in-training', and Gojo, the confident, almost arrogant sorcerer. They were two halves of a whole, yet as distinct as night and day.

In the vast expanse of their shared mindscape, a place where thoughts and emotions manifested as vivid landscapes, Gojo Satoru found himself standing before a younger version of himself—Midoriya Izuku. The mindscape, reflecting their inner turmoil, was a stormy sky above a calm sea, a paradox in itself.

"Listen, kid," Satoru began, his voice gentle but insistent, "you can't just believe everything they tell you. They said your mom's fine, but when's the last time you saw her?"

"Uh…"

"Five frickin' years!"

In reality the two entities that resided in the mindscape were the same person. After Gojo lost his consciousness after his reincarnation, a new entity was slowly forming inside the brain of the boy. After the battle against All For One, Gojo was awakened. Gojo called Midoriya 'Midoriya' while Midoriya called Gojo 'Gojo'.

The boy looked up, his grip tightening on the figurine. "The doctors say she's okay. They say she's resting so she can come to see me soon."

"These 'doctors' treat you like a caged animal! They give you electric shocks as if they were medicine! Are you okay with that?" Satoru's heart ached at the boy's words, a mirror to his own past hopes. "That 'soon' can mean 'never' if you don't act."

The boy bit his lip, a battle of trust waging war within him. "But... but what if they're right? What if she's just sick?"

Gojo sighed, the boy used to be smarter, more confident, but now...

Satoru leaned forward, his eyes earnest. "And what if they're not? What if she needs you, and you're here, playing their obedient little prisoner?" I've got a point, though. Why sit around waiting for scraps of truth when you have the power to seek it out yourself?"

The boy's eyes darted between his hands and Satoru's determined face. "I…",

Satoru reached out, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Being a hero isn't about being fearless. It's about being brave enough to do what's right, even when you're scared."

Gojo's voice was a whisper now, a taunting breeze. "Or you could just stay here, waiting for the good doctors to tuck you in at night. Your choice."

"Midoriya, we have the power to change everything," Gojo stated, his voice echoing in the boundless space. "We can escape this confinement and find 'our' mother."

Midoriya, with a determined look that seemed too mature for his age, shook his head. "No, Gojo. That's not the right way. We can't just use our power recklessly. There are consequences."

Gojo's laugh rippled through the mindscape, stirring the waves below. "Consequences? We're beyond such things. We are power incarnate. Why submit to their rules?"

Midoriya's fists clenched, and the sea stilled. "Because those 'rules' are what keep people safe. Being powerful doesn't give us the right to hurt others or act selfishly."

A flash of lightning split the sky, mirroring Gojo's frustration. "And what about us? What about your mother? Are we not worth bending those rules?"

Midoriya's eyes, bright with unshed tears, met Gojo's. "Of course we are. But not like this. We have to be patient, to find a way that doesn't bring harm to anyone else."

Gojo knew that Midoriya was dying. The doctors were experimenting on him mentally more than physically, breaking apart his Midoriya-self. Midoriya was almost gone. A little more push and he would be gone completely. Had Gojo not resided in the body, the body would just be an empty husk, a mindless creature.

Gojo turned away, staring into the distance where the sea met the sky. "Patience is a luxury we don't have. Every moment we wait, your mother is out there, alone."

Midoriya stepped forward, his voice soft but unwavering. "I know. And it hurts more than anything. But she wouldn't want us to become monsters for her sake."

The mindscape began to calm, the storm abating, and Gojo's anger subsiding. "You truly believe that, don't you, Midoriya?"

Midoriya nodded, his resolve as clear as the now tranquil sea. "Yes, I do. And I'll prove it. We'll find her, the right way."

Gojo looked at the young boy, a sense of pride welling up within him. "Then we'll do it your way, Midoriya. But remember, I'm here if you need me."

Midoriya nodded.

Their internal debate was interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. Dr. Kyotaka, the head of the facility, stepped in, his gaze impassive. "It's time for your daily assessment, Satoru," he announced, his voice devoid of warmth.

'What a brat. He is supposed to be smart, but he is denser than a rock. Huh, I guess I should wait until he is unconscious. I don't know how, but somehow these 'doctors' can suppress my cursed energy. Oddly enough, these 'quirks' seem too much like cursed techniques— I can sense faint cursed energy from them. Is quirks a new form of cursed techniques? This is the same world, my world, no doubt about it. Tenodakume was supposed to be the only anomaly, but now, everyone here is an anomaly. They have powers that very few possessed in my time. Their powers feel like a bit of cursed energy. Which can only mean… oh my nephew… what have you done…'

Satoru stood up, his dual nature settling into a temporary truce. "I'm ready, Doctor," he said.

As they walked to the testing chamber, Satoru's thoughts were a whirlwind. He knew that The Nursery wanted to turn Midoriya into a mindless drone, a beast of burden for their own ends. But they had underestimated him. He was not just a kid with a powerful quirk; he was Satoru Gojo, and he had a will of iron.

The tests were grueling, designed to push his abilities to the limit. Yet, with each challenge, Midoriya's determination grew. He would not break, he would not bend. He would find a way to use his power for good, to prove that he was more than just a weapon.

Dr. Kyotaka watched, his expression unreadable. "Impressive, Satoru," he said, once the tests were complete. "But remember, you're here for a reason. Don't get any ideas about escaping."

Satoru met the doctor's gaze, his eyes a mirror of the storm raging within him. "I know why I'm here, Doctor," he replied. "But one day, I'll show you and everyone else that you can't control me. I'm not a beast; I'm a hero."

Satoru's voice echoed with a spectral resonance. "Push beyond your limits, Midoriya," he urged, his words a silent storm brewing in the young hero's mind. "You cannot help others if you are this weak."

Midoriya's muscles tensed, his veins thrumming with the surge of power that Satoru's presence lent him. The physical world around him blurred into a backdrop for the mental battle he waged within. "I must... keep going," Midoriya thought, his inner voice strained against the weight of his own exhaustion.

The doctors watched, their eyes tracking every movement, every strained breath. They were oblivious to the mental dialogue, the coaxing whispers of Satoru urging Midoriya to tread the knife-edge of his limits.

With a thought, Midoriya's power flared, invisible forces latching onto the metal carcasses of cars, the hulking mass of trucks, and the jagged heft of boulders. They rose, wobbled, and danced to the tune of his will, a symphony of telekinetic prowess that defied gravity and reason.

But with each lift, each monumental exertion, the boy's strength waned. His knees buckled, his vision tunneled, and the world dimmed to a pinpoint of light. "Is this... my limit?" he wondered, a silent plea for respite that only Satoru could hear.

"Come on, Midoriya!" Gojo cheered. "Show those bastards what we are made of!"

Gojo was not proud of himself, but it had to be done, otherwise the doctors would prevail in their dirty schemes.

"Only honing your telekinetic powers is not enough," Satoru advised. "You must be physically strong too. Come on now, break your previous record on the treadmill."

Thus Midoriya ran. Midoriya ran on the treadmill at full speed— 72 kilometers per hour for half an hour before his lungs and muscles could not take it anymore.

And then, the collapse. Midoriya's body crumpled It was the moment Satoru had been waiting for, the perfect chink in the armor of willpower that Midoriya had so valiantly upheld.

Satoru seized control, his essence flooding the physical vessel that lay prone on the ground. The doctors rushed forward, their concern etched in furrowed brows and hurried commands. But it was too late; Satoru was now the puppeteer, and the body was his to command.

As Midoriya's eyes fluttered open, they held a new, different light, a glint that belonged not to the boy who dreamed of being a hero, but to the entity that now held the reins. "The training... continues," Satoru declared through Midoriya's lips, a smirk playing upon them as he rose to face the challenges anew. He crossed his fingers and muttered. "Domain Expansion: Infinite Void."

Incident Report: The Catastrophe in the Nursery Shinjuku Division

Executive Summary:

An unforeseen and violent explosion occurred within the confines of the research facility at precisely 11:30 am, January 7th, 2XXX. The incident resulted in the escape of the test subject, known as Satoru Midoriya (Identification Number: 144490), who managed to incapacitate the monitoring staff and security personnel through unknown means.

Detailed Account:

Upon the event, the facility's emergency protocols were activated; however, the subject utilized this moment of disarray to facilitate an escape. The observers and guards present during the incident were found in a state of unconsciousness, with subsequent medical examinations revealing severe neurological trauma. A distressing outcome of the situation is that 30% of the affected individuals have been declared brain-dead due to the extent of their injuries.

Current Status:

As of this report, the whereabouts of the aforementioned individual, Satoru Midoriya, remain unknown. An extensive search is underway, employing all available resources to locate the escapee.

Cautionary Note:

It is imperative to highlight the extreme danger associated with the fugitive. Satoru Midoriya is considered highly hazardous, and it is strongly discouraged for anyone to engage with him. It is advised that only a collective of multiple S-rank heroes should attempt to approach or apprehend the individual in question.

Conclusion:

This document serves as a formal record of the events that transpired and the ongoing efforts to resolve the situation. Updates will be provided as more information becomes available and the search progresses.

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Author Note: The battle between Satoru and All For One will be reveled soon. As for what happened to All Might, All For One and Inko- they will also be reveled soon.

TBC