The crowd's collective attention turned upward as one spectator pointed to the sky. Their excited chatter faded, replaced by curious murmurs, as the figure hovering above the stadium came into focus. The being in the sky wasn't like anything they'd ever seen—no costumed hero or villain they'd recognize, but a man draped in a black, ominous cloak, with an unsettling smirk stretched across his face. His presence radiated malice, a dark aura casting shadows even from his lofty position. And yet, his figure was clear, each of his intricate markings and the fierce gaze on his face visible to every single person below.
People in the stands began shifting nervously, gripping their loved ones' hands a little tighter. Parents reached for their children, and even some heroes stationed around the stadium to guard the event found themselves inching backward, instinctively unsettled by the aura emanating from this person.
"Who is that?" someone whispered, voice shaking, the sound barely carrying over the growing murmur of the crowd.
The figure began to descend, floating gradually lower until he was directly above the center of the stadium. His presence grew more oppressive with each second. As he finally came to a hovering stop, just a few dozen meters above the heads of the first-year students on the field, every eye in the stadium was locked onto him. His face was etched with black tattoos that wrapped around his skin in strange, curling designs, and as he gazed down upon the gathered heroes, students, and civilians, his expression was one of twisted amusement, as though he was in on a secret that no one else could even begin to comprehend.
A wave of unease washed over the stadium. Midnight, watching from the sidelines, clenched her whip, her usually calm and teasing demeanor nowhere to be found. "Who… who is this? And how did he get through security?"
Eraserhead's eyes narrowed. He'd spent years as a pro hero, faced down all manner of villains, but something about this figure made his skin crawl in a way he'd rarely felt before. There was something deeply wrong with the energy emanating from him, an oppressive force that seemed to crush the very air around him.
In the stands, spectators exchanged nervous glances, some of them whispering frantically, trying to reason if this was part of the spectacle or some unplanned attack. "Maybe he's a villain who got in to ruin the festival?" one person guessed, eyes darting around for any heroes who might step up and stop him.
Another spectator, an older man who had been to countless sports festivals over the years, just shook his head, muttering, "No... no villain should feel like this. This is... something else." His voice trembled, and he held his breath, afraid to speak further.
And then, as if to shatter any remaining doubt, the figure in the sky raised his hands. His fingers twisted and curled into a strange, foreign gesture, and a smirk crept onto his face, his eyes glinting with malice and deadly intent.
"Do...main..." His voice, cold and layered with malice, echoed across the stadium. People shrank back in their seats, some covering their ears, others instinctively clutching their loved ones as the dread in the air grew thick enough to choke on.
The man in the sky continued, voice dripping with anticipation. "...Expansion..."
A shockwave of cursed energy erupted from his figure, spreading outward in an instant. The entire stadium seemed to shudder in response, the air growing so heavy and oppressive that it seemed like the very light was dimming, warping under the weight of his malevolent power. The wave of energy reached the edges of the stadium, crawling up the walls and making even the strongest heroes buckle under the weight of it.
Gasps, screams, and terrified whispers filled the air as the crowd realized that this was no ordinary villain attack, no simple disruption to the festival. This was something ancient and lethal, something that had slipped free from a world they couldn't understand. Panic spread quickly, like wildfire, people trying to back away even as there was nowhere to run.
Ochako, standing beside her classmates, felt a cold sweat drip down her face. "Wh-what's happening?" she stammered, eyes wide as she looked up at the descending figure. She could feel it in her bones—this was unlike anything she'd felt before. This wasn't the kind of danger they trained for.
Bakugou grit his teeth, fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. "Who the hell does he think he is?" he snarled, though even he couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice as he stared up at the figure above, instinctively aware that even his explosive power would be useless against something this horrifyingly powerful.
Izuku Gojo's expression, usually so lighthearted and cocky, turned deadly serious as he stared up at the figure. His smile vanished, his eyes narrowing as he realized the full weight of the danger that had descended upon them. This was not a petty villain. This was someone who wielded a power that rivaled, no—surpassed, almost everything he had ever encountered.
The figure finally uttered the last part, his voice dripping with a cruel satisfaction as he declared, "Malevolent Shrine."
A pulse of energy surged outward from him, a thick, dark aura that spread across the entire stadium like a blanket of despair.
As the sinister words "Malevolent Shrine" left the man's lips, a wave of dark energy rolled outward from his form, enveloping the entire stadium in a creeping, otherworldly light. The moment it touched the ground, the stadium itself seemed to distort and shift, taking on the terrifying characteristics of the cursed domain that had been unleashed. It felt like the air was thickening, weighing down on everyone, and the temperature dropped as a sense of impending doom soaked through the space.
Dark, jagged columns emerged around the arena, twisting into grotesque shapes that defied natural geometry, rising like eerie spires across the field. The once familiar stadium began to warp into a desolate landscape, covered in an ancient darkness that seemed alive and hungry. Spectators and students alike were frozen in horror, eyes wide as they tried to process the terrifying transformation. This was no mere quirk attack—it was a full-scale Domain Expansion.
Izuku's face paled as he took in the scene. He'd known only one person capable of doing this. There was a horrifying pressure pressing down on him, more intense than any he'd felt before. He forced himself to breathe, steeling himself. If he didn't do something, there was no telling how many lives would be lost.
With a deep, steadying breath, Izuku's gaze hardened. This was not the time for hesitation. Without wasting a moment, he raised his hands and formed his own hand sign, fingers flying together with practised precision. Yes, this could make everyone around him brain dead, but he had learned how to focus it on one person.
"Domain Expansion…" Izuku's voice rang out, strong and unwavering. The spectators watched, a glimmer of hope rekindling in their eyes. Maybe he could counter this monster.
"Infinite Void!"
In an instant, his own domain expanded outward, a powerful burst of blinding energy pushing back against the dark encroachment of the other man's cursed domain. A brilliant, iridescent glow lit up the stadium as his domain fought against the eerie darkness, creating a harsh line between the two energies where they collided in mid-air. The opposing domains sparked and fizzled where they met, a visceral struggle of energy and intent, as though the very fabric of reality was fighting to maintain its balance.
But Izuku knew instantly that something was wrong. The force pressing down on him was unimaginable, crushing him, straining his domain to its absolute limits. He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep his concentration, the sweat beading down his face as he struggled to keep his Infinite Void intact against the onslaught.
In the stands, spectators were torn between horror and awe, their eyes fixed on the spectacle above them. Some screamed, others could only stare, and many clung desperately to each other, feeling the sheer pressure of two overwhelming forces locked in deadly combat above them.
The figure above, the one who had initiated this terror, watched with twisted delight. His deep, mocking laugh echoed through the warped arena, the sound amplified by his domain until it felt like it was reverberating through each and every person.
"Is this it, Gojo?" he sneered, looking down on Izuku with a glint of savage amusement in his eyes. "This is the power of the legendary Limitless? You have grown much weaker. Pathetic."
Izuku's heart hammered in his chest, but he refused to give in. He knew that if he faltered, everyone in the stadium was as good as dead. He could see Ochako and his classmates staring up at him, their eyes filled with fear and a flicker of hope. He could feel their trust, their need for him to come through, and he clenched his fists, doubling down on his efforts.
"Don't… underestimate me," he growled, his voice steady but strained. "After all, I am the…" was he really? He had been killed, right?
The man above tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he observed Izuku's defiance. "Is that so? Well then… let's see how long you last against a true king."
Izuku felt his own domain shudder in response, the edges beginning to fray as the overpowering force threatened to shatter it entirely. He gritted his teeth, pouring every ounce of his strength into holding his Infinite Void steady, feeling the strain creep down to his very bones.
But it wasn't enough. In the back of his mind, Izuku knew he was reaching his limit.
With a crack, his domain began to collapse, fragments of his Infinite Void scattering into the dark energy that overwhelmed it. His heart sank as he felt his control slipping, the raw power of his opponent crushing his domain like a tidal wave, swallowing it whole until nothing was left.
With a lazy flick of his wrist, the dark figure increased the intensity of his domain, pouring more cursed energy into it, making the domain what it was meant to do.
"Cleave,"
And then, in a single, chilling moment, the oppressive darkness swept over the stadium completely, plunging everything into chaos.
The stadium fell silent, wrapped in a darkness so deep it felt alive, pressing in on every corner and filling the air with a crushing weight. And then, in that suffocating silence, it began.
Screams erupted as invisible slashes swept across the stadium, cutting through metal, concrete, and flesh alike. The crowd erupted into chaos, people scrambling, desperate to escape the onslaught. Those who were closest to the invisible onslaught fell first, their bodies collapsing as they were torn apart by unseen claws. It was as if the very air had turned into a razor-edged weapon, indiscriminately slicing through everything in its path.
Izuku stood frozen, helpless, watching as the people he had sworn to protect fell around him. His Infinity Barrier—usually an unbreakable shield—was powerless here, unable to stop the deadly energy of this ancient Domain. He tried reaching out, activating his Limitless technique, but it was as if the very laws of space and energy had been rewritten within this dark place. His hands clenched into fists as he stood there, feeling utterly powerless, his heart pounding in frustration and despair.
"Stay back! Run!" he screamed to the civilians, his voice cracking with desperation. "Get out, now!"
But there was nowhere to go. The domain was covering a few hundred metres radius and they couldn't escape that fast. He could only teleport himself. Simple Domain was an option but there was an issue… at the moment.
The invisible slashes continued, tearing through the air, ripping through seats, walls, and anything in their path. People scrambled over each other, frantically trying to escape the invisible onslaught, but the slashes moved faster, merciless and unstoppable.
The other students, once proud and defiant in the face of danger, were now desperately trying to protect themselves. Bakugou gritted his teeth, his hands sparking with explosions as he attempted to blast away the unseen blades. But for every attack he launched, he was forced to dodge another. His rage simmered, but there was a sliver of fear in his eyes, too. There were deep slashes all over his body and he wasn't the only one.
"Damn it! Where the hell are these things coming from?!" he yelled, his voice a mixture of frustration and terror.
Shoto, nearby, created walls of ice around himself, trying to block the attacks. But the slashes sliced through the ice as though it were nothing more than paper, shattering his defenses in seconds. He struggled to keep up, creating more barriers, each one more desperate than the last. His breaths came in sharp gasps as he realized his own helplessness.
"This… this is impossible," he muttered, glancing over at Izuku. He could see the same look of horror mirrored on his rival's face.
Ochako, crouching nearby, watched as people around her were cut down. Her fingers trembled as she touched the ground, trying to lift debris to form a barrier. But her quirk felt almost useless here; nothing she did seemed to make a difference against the invisible force that tore through everything. Her… right leg was missing. Tears pricked her eyes as she saw innocents falling, knowing there was nothing she could do to save them.
"Gojo-san…" she whispered, her voice filled with fear and desperation as she looked at Izuku, hoping, praying he could somehow stop this.
From his position above the chaos, the man who had unleashed the Domain watched with a twisted satisfaction, his crimson eyes gleaming as he took in the destruction. His extra set of eyes blinked slowly, savoring the sight of the helpless masses below. To him, this was nothing more than a spectacle—a demonstration of his absolute power, a reminder to this world of who he was.
"Kneel before me, insects," he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watched the chaos unfold.
Kurogiri, lurking in the shadows, stared in stunned horror at the scene below. He had never witnessed destruction on this scale, nor such merciless violence from his master. For the first time, he felt a chill, wondering if this power would someday turn on him as well.
"Tomura… no, who are you…" he muttered, almost as though he was pleading, though he knew there was no reasoning with the dark presence that now controlled Shigaraki's body.
Meanwhile, Izuku clenched his fists, teeth gritted as he watched helplessly, every instinct in him screaming to fight, to protect.
"Cursed Technique: Reversal Red," he launched an attack at Sukuna but it vanished before it could even reach the king.
If he moved recklessly, he could only make things worse. He was outmatched here, his own powers dwarfed by the ancient might of the curse that was tearing the stadium apart.
But that didn't mean he was going to stand by and do nothing.
Taking a deep breath, he focused his remaining energy, reaching out toward the crowd with his mind. He couldn't protect everyone, but if he could concentrate, maybe—just maybe—he could create a small field, a safe zone, something to shield the most vulnerable. He extended his arms, drawing in every ounce of cursed energy within him and channeling it outward.
"Come on… hold," he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination.
The crowd began to feel a slight shift, a small pocket of safety forming around a select few as Izuku poured his remaining energy into them. It wasn't enough to cover everyone, but it was something. Those within his field looked up at him with relief, tears streaming down their faces as they realized they were safe—for now.
"Thank you… thank you," one of them whispered, looking up at Izuku with a mixture of awe and gratitude.
But Izuku knew he couldn't keep this up for long. His energy was draining fast, and the strain was beginning to wear on him. He could feel his vision blurring, his knees starting to buckle, but he pushed forward, refusing to let go. His thoughts were filled with one mantra, one goal:
Protect them. No matter the cost.
The figure above noticed the small field of safety that Izuku had created and raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Oh? So you still have some fight left in you, Gojo?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Impressive, but ultimately futile. You can't save them all. You are far from your prime."
He raised his hand, the dark energy swirling around him intensifying, gathering for another attack. Izuku's eyes widened as he felt the ominous energy building, knowing that the next assault would be even stronger than the last.
"Gojo-san!" Ochako screamed, her voice filled with terror as she realized what was about to happen.
The dark figure smirked, his gaze fixed on Izuku as he brought his hand down, the energy surging forward in a deadly wave.
But just before it hit, a new presence appeared in the stadium, a burst of light shining through the darkness. All Might's skeletal form, weak but defiant, appeared at the edge of the field, his hand extended as he summoned the last remnants of his power to shield the crowd.
"You will not harm them," he said, his voice weak but unwavering.
Just as the dark figure raised his hand, ready to deliver the death blow to All Might, a flicker of something broke through. Shigaraki's voice, strained and hollow, echoed from within the monstrous entity.
"Time's… finished," he rasped, the desperation in his tone evident as he fought to regain control.
Sukuna's twisted smile faltered, his annoyance flashing in his blood-red eyes. "Tch... interrupted by the puppet," he muttered, glaring into the void within himself where Shigaraki's consciousness fought to reassert itself. The smirk returned, however, mocking and malevolent. "Fine. Two minutes was hardly a warm-up, anyway."
With that, Sukuna's control loosened, and Shigaraki seized the moment. His body trembled as he took over, struggling to keep his hold over the ancient evil within him. Kurogiri appeared instantly, sweeping to his side in a rush of dark mist.
"Tomura, we need to go," Kurogiri said, his voice as calm as ever but with an urgency beneath it.
Sukuna's fading laughter still echoed in the air as his sinister presence receded. "This isn't over, boy," he sneered within Shigaraki's mind, lingering just long enough to drive home his threat. "I'll be back. And next time, I won't be interrupted."
Then, with a final swirl of shadows, Kurogiri's portal closed, and the cursed energy vanished, leaving the stadium in a chilling, unnatural silence.
It was over. Or… at least, that's what they all wanted to believe.
But the aftermath was undeniable.
The once-bustling arena was now nothing but a graveyard. Rows upon rows of seats lay covered in blood and gore. Bodies of spectators and students alike were scattered everywhere, twisted in agonizing, final poses. The ground was littered with crushed dreams and broken lives, each a testament to the ruthless power that had just been unleashed.
Only Izuku Gojo stood unscathed, his Reversed Cursed Technique having healed his wounds, his body instinctively keeping him alive through the chaos. But even he was unable to reverse the damage done to everyone else. The ability he used so effortlessly to protect himself was useless to bring back those who lay still and lifeless around him. His hands clenched into tight fists, and his gaze, usually full of confidence, was hollow.
Thirty-eight thousand nine hundred and fifty six corpses— his Six-Eyes calculated instinctively. Twelve thousand five hundred and seventy six were heavily injured.
Sukuna could have killed them all, but he didn't.
He was making them suffer.
Blood painted the stadium floor in jagged streaks, crimson rivers pooling around the bodies that lay strewn across the area. Those who had survived, barely conscious, looked on in horror, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed. Some clutched at loved ones who hadn't made it, while others sat in stunned silence, their minds shattered by the sheer brutality of what they had just experienced.
A spectator's voice, choked and shaky, broke the silence. "It's like the stories… the King… he's back…"
Panic rippled through the survivors, who whispered the same phrase, dread consuming them as they struggled to comprehend the ancient horror that had just been revived. The name of Sukuna, the cursed king, spread like wildfire. His legacy of destruction, once a tale of legend and nightmare, was now terrifyingly real.
All Might, his frail, skeletal form barely able to stand, stumbled forward, eyes wide with disbelief. "Young Midoriya?" he called out, his voice filled with a rare mix of fear and sorrow as he looked to his protégé.
Izuku, standing amid the wreckage and bodies, felt the weight of All Might's gaze. The confidence that usually radiated from him was gone, replaced by something cold and fragile. He turned to All Might, his voice low and strained.
"Sukuna…" he muttered, the name heavy on his tongue, like a curse itself. "He's… he's back."
All Might's face paled, his eyes widening with shock as the name registered. He knew of Sukuna only through whispers, an ancient tale that had haunted the minds of cursed energy users and sorcerers for generations. The King of Curses was supposed to be gone, erased from history. And yet, here he was, in the flesh, standing before them. And in Izuku's eyes, All Might saw something more—a personal connection, a dark familiarity with the curse that had nearly ended them all.
It was the same curse that had cleaved him in half in his past life.
The remnants of the crowd began to disperse, some fleeing in silent horror, others sobbing as they clutched their loved ones. Those who remained stared at Izuku with a mixture of fear and awe, their trust in him shaken yet desperately clinging to the hope that he might somehow be able to protect them from the nightmare that had descended on their world.
The scene was a nightmare brought to life, more horrific than anything Izuku Gojo could have imagined. The once bustling stadium was now a chaotic landscape strewn with devastation, blood, and mutilated bodies. Screams of terror still echoed faintly, even as silence began to settle over those who had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the destructive domain. It was as if the earth itself had been ripped open, leaving only darkness and despair in its wake.
Izuku stood in the midst of it, his heart hammering. His Infinite Void—his ultimate defense—had crumbled against Sukuna's Malevolent Shrine, leaving him helpless as Sukuna's cursed technique had wreaked its havoc on everyone around him. A part of him felt like he was drowning in horror, disbelief filling every corner of his mind. He had failed.
"How…?" Izuku's voice trembled as he whispered to himself. He could still see the remains of some of his friends and classmates scattered in his line of sight, bodies of people he had failed to protect.
Then, the memory of Tengen-sama's words struck him like a bolt. The wise, ancient being had assured him: only one of Sukuna's fingers remained. Just one. And yet, this power—this sheer, merciless devastation—had felt like a full rebirth of the King of Curses himself.
"How is this possible?" he muttered, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His entire body felt like it was vibrating with the need for answers, for revenge, for something—anything—that could make sense of the nightmare he was standing in.
The feeble voice of All Might reached him through the destruction. "Young… Midoriya?"
Izuku turned to see All Might, barely able to stand, his skeletal form shaking from the encounter. His face was pale, eyes wide with the weight of the destruction they both saw before them. All Might, the Symbol of Peace, looked utterly shattered, like he was staring into the abyss and seeing his own helplessness reflected back at him. And yet, he'd somehow survived. But not all of them had been so lucky. The mere realization twisted a knife in Izuku's chest, guilt gnawing at him like a ravenous beast.
"All Might… I couldn't… I couldn't stop it." His voice was choked, barely louder than a whisper, yet it held the weight of the anguish and regret that he felt. "I… I tried everything, and still…"
"Don't blame yourself, young Midoriya," All Might managed, voice trembling as he put a hand on Izuku's shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance despite his own horror. "We… we weren't prepared. None of us could have known…"
Izuku's head dropped, but his voice became firm. "But I should have been able to stop him. I should have been strong enough."
He took a shuddering breath, and his mind went back to Sukuna, the beast of legend. The one who had cleaved him in half in his past life… the one who could return with just a single fragment and still hold such overwhelming power. The realization was like ice in his veins.
"Sukuna… he's back," Izuku said aloud, his voice cold, eyes distant as if he were already making calculations in his mind. The image of Sukuna's smirk, his casual cruelty, was burned into Izuku's mind like a scar that wouldn't heal.
Izuku's heart sank as he moved through the carnage, one step after another feeling heavier than the last. The sports arena, once filled with cheers and the excitement of young heroes eager to prove themselves, had become a hellish landscape of blood, broken bodies, and shattered dreams. His classmates—friends, allies, rivals—they lay scattered around him, some clinging to life, others lost to the devastation.
He spotted Ochako first. She was crumpled against a fallen piece of the stadium's bleachers, her face pale, her leg missing below the knee. Izuku dropped to his knees beside her, his hands glowing as he channeled his Reversed Cursed Technique to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. He concentrated fully on her, willing every cell to mend, feeling her faint pulse steady under his hands. Her breathing deepened, a slight color returning to her cheeks, but Izuku knew he couldn't linger. There were too many others.
Not far away, he saw Bakugo propped up against a pile of rubble, his mouth set in a grim line as he held his severed wrist with his remaining hand. Blood ran down his temple, and his left ear was missing, torn away in the frenzy of Sukuna's attack. Izuku moved toward him, but Bakugo shot him a furious look.
"Stay the hell away, Fancy Eyes!" Bakugo barked, his voice rough with pain but still defiant. "I don't need your pity!"
"Shut up, Kaachan," Izuku replied, his tone harsh. "This isn't about pride; it's about keeping you alive." He reached out, ignoring Bakugo's protest, and pressed his hands over the severed wrist. The familiar warmth of his Reversed Cursed Technique flowed through Bakugo's arm, repairing the tendons, bones, and skin. Bakugo finally relented, his eyes wide for some other reason.
Nearby, Kaminari was supporting Jiro, who looked dazed, one of her earphone jacks severed and blood trickling down her neck. Kaminari's eyes were wide with fear, and he looked up at Izuku, his voice shaking. "Gojo, is… is she going to be okay?"
Izuku nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Kaminari's shoulder. "Just keep pressure on the wound. I already regenerated the earlobe."
As he continued through the wreckage, he came across Todoroki. His right arm hung limp, twisted unnaturally, and burns ran along the side of his face and torso. Yet, Todoroki's expression remained as steely as ever, though pain flickered in his eyes.
"Gojo," he said with a slight nod. "Others… they're worse off than me. Go help them."
Izuku nodded, heart pounding, and left Todoroki to focus on those whose injuries needed immediate attention. Further along, Mezou was trapped beneath a chunk of concrete, his 2nd left arm crushed beyond recognition. When he saw Izuku, he gave a weak smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine… limbs can grow back, right?"
Izuku forced a smile but felt his throat tighten. He clapped a hand on Mezou's shoulder before moving on, though Mezou's voice stayed with him as a painful reminder of how much he owed these people.
But then he saw Kouji… Kouji's lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, his body twisted and broken. Beside him lay Satou, his once powerful form now crumpled, blood soaking the ground beneath him. Izuku felt his breath catch as he stumbled backward, forcing himself to look away, even though the image was already burned into his mind.
And then there was Mineta. His head lay severed a few feet from his body, his lifeless face forever frozen in fear. Izuku closed his eyes for a moment, gripping his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.
He moved on, forcing himself to keep helping those he could still save. He found Iida, kneeling in silent tears as he helped an older man search the rubble for his family. The man's sobs echoed as he cradled his wife's severed head in his arms. Iida put a comforting hand on the man's shoulder, his own face pale with grief.
Izuku continued his work, channeling his healing energy into one student after another, moving through the fallen as quickly as his strength would allow. He passed Tokoyami, who sat slumped, his cloak torn and Dark Shadow weakened, hovering weakly by his side, barely a shade of its usual self. Tokoyami's gaze met Izuku's, and he gave a solemn nod, acknowledging the horror of their reality.
Recovery Girl was nearby, working tirelessly on a few students who were barely clinging to life. Her face was strained, her hands moving swiftly from one person to the next, her normally calm demeanor now fractured with worry. She caught Izuku's eye and gave him a brief, encouraging nod before returning to her work.
But even with their combined efforts, it wasn't enough. Blood continued to pool around them, the cries of the injured mixed with the grief of those who had lost loved ones. People were slipping away with every passing second, their lives draining out in red streams across the stadium floor.
Izuku's hands shook as he realized that despite all his power, despite his cursed energy, his Reversed Cursed Technique… it was hardly enough.
So many people were dead— dying. Just like Shibuya hundreds of years ago. Men, women, elderly, children…
Izuku froze, his heart pounding as he remembered Eri. Without wasting a second, he teleported to where she was— the VIP booth. The scene that greeted him was unsettling: Eri was crouched over Professor Nezu, who lay on the ground, bleeding from his abdomen. Izuku immediately knelt down, placing his hands over Nezu's wound, letting the Reversed Cursed Technique flow to heal him.
But as he worked, he noticed something strange. Eri's small figure was trembling, her eyes wide with tears as she stared down at the ground. Her face was uninjured, yet her right sleeve was missing, torn halfway up her arm, there were blood stains too.
"Eri…" Izuku asked softly, concern thick in his voice. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "No… I-I'm not hurt," she replied, her voice wavering as she choked back a sob.
Izuku's gaze fell to her missing sleeve. "Then… what happened to your sleeve?"
Eri hesitated, looking down, tears pooling in her eyes. "I… I don't know," she stammered, her voice trembling. "It… it just… happened."
Curious, Izuku looked more closely. As his eyes traced the torn fabric, he noticed something small and jarring lying on the ground next to her. His breath caught as he recognized it—a small, severed hand, no bigger than that of a young child's.
His eyes widened. Did she just…? "Eri…" He turned to her, his voice caught between awe and shock. "Did… did you regrow your arm just like that?"
Eri sniffled, looking confused and afraid. "I don't know. I didn't mean to…"
Izuku studied her face, a realization dawning. This wasn't a technique he recognized—no, it wasn't some new power he'd taught her. It was her quirk. A raw, pure form of power unique to her. He looked at her, both astounded and hopeful.
"You can heal injuries?" he asked gently.
She glanced down, her voice barely a whisper. "I… I can rewind."
Rewind. Izuku's mind spun, the implications of that word striking him deeply. Her power wasn't just healing. It was something beyond that, a quirk capable of reverting someone's injuries back, even regrowing lost limbs. Izuku's face broke into a reassuring grin as he knelt beside her.
"Hey, Eri," he said, his tone warm, "do you want to be a hero?"
She looked up at him with wide, scared eyes, shaking her head nervously. "But… I'll mess up. I don't know how… I don't want to hurt anyone…"
Izuku's expression softened. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Eri. Everyone's scared sometimes, and everyone makes mistakes." He held her gaze, his eyes shining with determination. "But it's fine. You know why?"
She sniffled, wiping her eyes. "Why?"
Izuku's grin widened, his voice steady and strong. "Because I am here."
The words held a warmth and power that reached deep into her heart. Slowly, she nodded, her small hand clutching his. Professor Nezu, now mostly recovered, glanced at Izuku with a mixture of doubt and cautious optimism.
"Young Midoriya," Nezu began, his eyes sharp, "are you certain about this? Her quirk… it's powerful, but it's dangerous."
Izuku nodded confidently. "I am, Principal Yaga, eh, Nezu." He looked down at Eri, his gaze filled with unwavering faith. "You believe in me, don't you, Eri?"
She hesitated, then nodded, her tiny voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
Taking her in his arms, Izuku rose into the air, levitating with a calm control until they hovered above the destroyed stadium. Eri clung tightly to him, her body shaking as she looked down at the devastation below. Heights made her nervous, and her fear was visible in the way she clutched him.
"Don't look down, Eri," he said gently. "Just focus on me. I'm right here."
Around them, those who were still conscious in the stadium began to take notice. They saw Izuku Gojo, floating in the air, a small girl in his arms. Whispers spread among the crowd as people glanced up, some hopeful, others skeptical, all carrying the weight of their losses and injuries.
He looked down at her, giving her a reassuring smile. "All right, Eri, I need you to activate your quirk."
She shook her head, her face pale with anxiety. "What if… what if I hurt you, Gojo? What if it doesn't reach everyone?"
Izuku chuckled, his trademark confidence shining through even now. Tilting his broken sunglasses, he grinned. "Then let's push past those limits! Let's do it, Eri!"
She gulped, her form trembling with nerves, but she nodded, determined. Her small frame began to crackle with yellow sparks of power as she activated her quirk.
Below them, the crowd gasped, eyes wide as they watched. Teachers, students, and spectators alike held their breath, caught between hope and fear.
Izuku closed his eyes, his voice firm. "Cursed Technique: Amplify Blue."
For a brief moment, silence filled the air, broken only by the quiet hum of energy that crackled around them. Then, with a resounding boom, a wave of energy surged outward.
Eri's horn grew longer, glowing a vivid violet, and her yellow sparks turned to a powerful, pulsating purple. She gasped in surprise, feeling the energy course through her, but Izuku's calming voice steadied her.
"It's okay, Eri," he reassured her. "You've got this."
With a deep breath, Izuku raised his hands, creating a barrier around them to channel the energy more effectively. "Reversed Cursed Technique!" His voice rang out, strong and resolute, as the violet energy expanded outward, reaching every corner of the stadium.
Everyone who still stood, everyone who bled and suffered, was touched by that energy. Faces filled with shock and amazement as their wounds began to heal, the pain melting away, injuries mending with a gentle warmth. Limbs that had been lost began to regrow, taking shape as if they had never been severed. Eyes widened, disbelief and awe mixing in equal measure as those who had thought themselves crippled were suddenly whole again.
For a moment, hope surged through the stadium.
But as people checked on the fallen, a wave of sadness crashed back. The dead remained lifeless, beyond the reach of healing. The silence that followed was thick with grief, mixed with the relief of those who had been saved.
Above, both Izuku and Eri, spent from the immense power they'd just unleashed, swayed in mid-air, their consciousness slipping. Their bodies went limp, and they began to fall, spiraling downward through the air.
Just in time, a familiar figure leaped upward with remarkable speed and strength. All Might, back in his muscular form, caught both Izuku and Eri in his arms, holding them gently as they hovered above the crowd.
"You did well, kids," he whispered, his voice full of pride and sorrow. But…
This wasn't over; this was only the beginning.
O—O—O
Massacre Festival Report
Date: October 27th, 2XXX
Time: Approximately 11:30 a.m.
Event: UA Sports Festival Incident
Yesterday's UA Sports Festival, a celebration of heroism and potential, turned into an unprecedented tragedy now being referred to as the "Massacre Festival."
—The Incident
Around 11:30 a.m., as students and Pro Heroes competed in the Cavalry Battle, a sudden purple mist enveloped the stadium. The source of this mist appeared to be a figure who materialized seconds later.
The figure was described as a man with light blue hair, crimson tattoos etched across his body, and an aura of overwhelming malice. Eyewitnesses claim he emanated a chilling presence that froze the very air around him.
The individual declared his "Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine," and what followed was a nightmare that has left the hero community in shock.
—The Carnage
As the domain took hold, the stadium was subjected to an onslaught of countless invisible slashes.
—Casualties
- Over 40,000 individuals were killed, many of them decapitated, dismembered, or mutilated beyond recognition.
- The Pro Heroes present were severely injured despite their experience and training.
- UA's First-Year Class suffered catastrophic losses:
- 1/3 of the class perished.
- Confirmed student fatalities include Rikido Satou, Kouji Koda, and Minoru Mineta from 1-A.
The scene was described by survivors as "indescribable carnage." Blood pooled in every corner of the destroyed stadium, and screams of pain and panic echoed long after the event had ended.
—Survivors and Heroes
In the face of this unprecedented calamity, Izuku Gojo, Class 1-A's top student, and a young girl identified as All Might's newest charge, took center stage in the rescue efforts.
Izuku Gojo's Actions:
- Alongside Recovery Girl, he utilized a mysterious technique to heal the wounded, saving over 8,000 lives.
- Despite his efforts, those who had died remained beyond his reach, as neither his techniques nor his resilience could undo death.
Eri's Role:
- The young girl, believed to have a unique quirk capable of "undoing," worked with Gojo to regrow lost limbs and halt life-threatening injuries. Her contribution was pivotal in the survival of many critically wounded.
Witnesses reported that Gojo's typically confident demeanor had turned grim and focused, as he shouldered the impossible burden of trying to restore hope amidst the chaos.
—Damage Report
- Casualties: Over 40,000 dead, 8,000 wounded saved.
- Property Damage: Estimated at 3 billion Yen.
- UA High School: Structural devastation and irreparable loss to its student body.
—The Mystery of Sukuna
Eyewitness accounts and analysis have led experts to identify the attacker as Ryomen Sukuna, a pre-quirk era villain believed to have been defeated centuries ago by Jujutsu sorcerers.
Sukuna's techniques bore striking resemblance to those recorded in historical accounts of his massacres. His "Malevolent Shrine" ability is said to create an area of guaranteed lethality, sparing no one caught within its reach.
—Sukuna's Words:
What has left the hero community even more shaken are Sukuna's direct interactions with Izuku Gojo. The attacker openly addressed the young hero-in-training, stating:
- "You've grown weak."
- "Far past your prime."
These comments have raised unsettling questions about Gojo's identity, his past, and his connection to Sukuna.
—Questions and Fears
1. Who is Sukuna?
If he truly is the same Ryomen Sukuna from the pre-quirk era, what does his resurrection mean for the modern world?
2. What does he want?
Sukuna made it clear that this was only the beginning. His ominous declaration, "I will be back," has left citizens and Pro Heroes alike gripped with fear.
3. What is Gojo's connection to Sukuna?
The cryptic comments directed at Izuku Gojo suggest a history that predates the boy's life—or perhaps a link that defies the natural order of time.
—The Aftermath
As the dust settles, UA High School and the hero community are left grappling with the profound loss and the weight of what this attack represents.
While heroes are celebrated for their courage and resilience, this massacre has highlighted vulnerabilities in the current systems of protection. The public is demanding answers and action to prevent another tragedy like this.
For now, Ryomen Sukuna, the so-called "King of Curses," remains at large, leaving a shadow over Japan—and the world—that no amount of heroism can dispel.
—In Closing
The Massacre Festival has left the world scarred, with countless questions unanswered. But amidst the darkness, the determination of heroes like Izuku Gojo offers a flicker of hope.
Let us hope that flicker is enough.
O—O—O
Author Note:
No Hollow Purple or Simple Domain. I wonder why. And how is Sukuna so strong? Is he reincarnated, or the usual finger-eating stuff?
Till next time.