The press conference room was packed to capacity. Dozens of reporters, photographers, and media personnel jostled for position, their cameras flashing and recorders held high. On the elevated stage, the U.A. High School faculty sat behind a long table, their expressions grim and composed despite the tension in the air. All Might, in his hero form, sat at the center, flanked by Principal Nezu, Eraserhead, Midnight, and Endeavor, among others.
As the murmurs of the crowd quieted, Principal Nezu leaned into the microphone, his small but authoritative presence commanding attention. "Thank you all for coming. We understand the public has many questions following the tragic events at the Sports Festival, and we will do our best to address your concerns."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the reporters erupted into a cacophony of voices.
"Principal Nezu! Can you confirm the identity of the attacker?"
"What measures will U.A. take to ensure this doesn't happen again?"
"Endeavor! As Japan's number one hero, how do you explain this massive failure?"
Nezu raised a paw to silence the room, his voice calm but firm. "One at a time, please. Let us proceed in an orderly fashion."
A reporter in a navy suit stood. "Principal Nezu, eyewitness accounts claim the attacker referred to himself as 'Ryomen Sukuna.' Is this true, and is it possible he's linked to the pre-Quirk era legend of the same name?"
Nezu's expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. "We can confirm that the individual identified himself as 'Ryomen Sukuna.' While the connection to the legend is under investigation, we urge the public to refrain from speculation. Our priority is ensuring the safety of everyone moving forward."
Another reporter quickly followed up. "All Might, you were present during the attack. How do you explain the heroes' inability to stop this massacre?"
All Might leaned forward, his usually bright demeanor replaced by a somber tone. "The attacker's power was… unprecedented. Despite our combined efforts, we were unable to neutralize him in time. However, we are already working with other agencies to prevent such an incident from ever happening again."
The room erupted again, but another reporter's voice cut through the noise. "Eraserhead, can you comment on the casualties? Over forty thousand people lost their lives, including students. What does this say about U.A.'s ability to protect its own?"
Eraserhead's gaze was piercing. "The loss of life is a tragedy that weighs heavily on all of us. U.A. has always prioritized the safety of our students, but this attack was beyond anything we've ever faced. Moving forward, we will be reevaluating our security protocols to ensure that such a breach cannot occur again."
A reporter near the back raised her hand. "There are rumors of a student—Izuku Gojo—having a unique ability to protect and heal others during the attack. Can you comment on his role?"
Nezu quickly interjected, his tone neutral but decisive. "We will not be discussing individual students at this time. Their privacy and safety remain our top priorities."
"But Principal Nezu, eyewitnesses claim—"
"I must insist," Nezu interrupted, "that we stay focused on the broader situation."
Another reporter stood. "What about the young girl seen assisting with healing efforts? Who is she, and how was she able to contribute so significantly?"
Midnight took over, her voice soothing but firm. "As Nezu said, we won't be discussing individuals. Please respect that this is a sensitive time for everyone involved."
Present Mic, visibly frustrated, leaned into his microphone. "Ask about what matters. We lost lives. We failed. But now, we're focusing on how to ensure this never happens again. That should be the story."
A bold reporter stood. "Endeavor, as the number two hero, what do you have to say about Sukuna's claims regarding Izuku Gojo? He specifically mentioned him, calling him 'far past his prime.' What is the connection between them?"
Endeavor's fists clenched, but Nezu answered before he could speak. "We cannot comment on the motivations or statements of the attacker at this time. Our priority is understanding the events fully before making any assertions."
The tension in the room was palpable as more reporters shouted over one another.
"Is U.A. still safe for students?"
"Will the Sports Festival ever be held again?"
"How do you explain the colossal property damage and the failure to prevent such destruction?"
"What's being done for the victims' families?"
All Might raised a hand, silencing the room. His voice was steady but carried a weight of guilt and resolve. "To everyone affected by this tragedy, know that we will not rest until we uncover the truth and bring those responsible to justice. We owe that to the victims, their families, and the entire community."
The reporters quieted, a heavy silence filling the air. For all the answers they sought, it was clear there were still many more questions left unanswered.
As the conference ended, the teachers filed out, their faces grim. Behind closed doors, they knew the hardest conversations were yet to come.
O—O—O
The social media landscape was a battlefield of its own, filled with anger, sorrow, criticism, and desperate hope. Amid the chaos, one sentiment echoed louder than any other: something had to change.
Social Media Reactions to the "Massacre Festival":
Trending Hashtags:
#UAMassacre
#SukunaAttack
#UAFail
#GojoHope
#NeverAgain
#HeroSocietyBroken
ConcernedParent:
40,000 DEAD. At a SCHOOL EVENT. And U.A. still calls itself the safest place for children?! Shameful. #UAMassacre #NeverAgain
HeroFan99:
I can't believe All Might and Endeavor couldn't stop this Sukuna guy. If even THEY can't protect us, who can? #HeroSocietyBroken
QuirklessRights:
Maybe it's time to stop glorifying quirks. The more powerful they get, the more innocent people die. #SukunaAttack
HopefulSoul:
Izuku Gojo and that little girl saved thousands. In the middle of that chaos, they didn't stop trying to help. That's what heroes should be. #GojoHope
AntiUA:
This is why U.A. should be SHUT DOWN. Their arrogance and incompetence cost tens of thousands of lives. #UAFail
ProHeroWatcher:
Y'all blaming U.A., but no one could've predicted this. Sukuna isn't just some villain; he's a literal nightmare. #SukunaAttack
Instagram Stories
quirk_journalist: Photo of the destroyed stadium
"Never thought I'd cover a Sports Festival turned into a warzone. RIP to those who didn't make it. 💔 #UAMassacre"
UA_Fan_Page: Photo of Izuku Gojo levitating with Eri
"He's just a first-year student, and he did more than most heroes. Respect. 🙏 #GojoHope"
villainwatcher: Fan art of Sukuna grinning in the stadium
"I hate to say it, but this villain is on another level. How do you even fight someone like that? #SukunaAttack"
TikTok
quirksandheroes:
Video montage of Sukuna's attack followed by Gojo healing people
Caption: "From tragedy to hope. Izuku Gojo and that girl gave us something to believe in. But how much more can we take? #UAMassacre #GojoHope"
antiheroactivist:
Video rant
"Hero Society is a scam. They promise safety, but when it REALLY counts, they fail. 40,000 DEAD. And what do they say? 'We'll do better next time.' Pathetic. #NeverAgain"
quirktheory:
Theory video
"Did anyone else hear Sukuna call Izuku Gojo 'far past his prime'? What does that even mean? 👀 #SukunaAttack #GojoHope"
Facebook Comments on News Articles
John Smith:
"Why does U.A. even host these events if they can't guarantee safety? The school is clearly negligent."
Lisa Kim:
"Gojo is the only reason I'm not completely hopeless. That kid's got something special."
Paulina Rodriguez:
"This is more than just a U.A. issue. If heroes can't stop someone like Sukuna, what does that mean for the rest of us?"
David Chang:
"The focus should be on the victims, not playing the blame game. But seriously, U.A. needs to rethink everything."
Reddit Threads
r/HA:
Thread Title: "What the hell happened at U.A. Sports Festival?!"
u/HeroCriticX: "Sukuna showed us just how fragile the hero system is. We're not safe."
u/QuirkFanatic: "Gojo's Limitless saved lives, but damn, even he couldn't stop the carnage. What does that say about Sukuna's power?"
u/ConcernedCitizen92: "Imagine sending your kid to a hero school only for them to come back in a body bag. Unacceptable."
u/MidnightWatcher: "Why is no one talking about the connection between Gojo and Sukuna? There's something bigger going on here."
YouTube Comments on News Coverage:
News Title: "Massacre at U.A.: Ryomen Sukuna Returns?"
User: HeroFan101:
"Izuku Gojo deserves a medal for what he did, but this isn't enough. The system failed."
User: VillainApologist:
"Let's face it, heroes were useless. Sukuna dominated and left like it was nothing. What now?"
User: GojoStan4Life:
"If Gojo can hold his ground against someone like Sukuna, imagine how strong he'll be when he's older. The kid's a legend in the making."
User: JusticeForVictims:
"Don't glorify anyone right now. 40,000 people died. That's the story."
Global Opinions on the U.A. Sports Festival Tragedy
News Anchor:
"As the world reels from the devastating attack at U.A.'s Sports Festival, we turn to voices from across the globe to hear their thoughts on this unprecedented tragedy."
Japan:
Kyoto Citizen, Hiroko Tanaka:
"It's terrifying. U.A. was supposed to be a safe place, a beacon of hope. If even their security can be breached, where are we truly safe? My heart breaks for the families who lost their loved ones."
Osaka College Student, Ryota Nakamura:
"Forty thousand dead in under two minutes… It's hard to even comprehend. But Izuku Gojo and that little girl—they gave me hope. They saved lives, even in such chaos."
United States:
New York, Pro-Hero Crimson Light:
"This is a wake-up call for the global hero community. If villains like Sukuna exist, we need better collaboration and preparation. What happened in Japan could happen anywhere."
Los Angeles Resident, Maria Gonzalez:
"I don't understand why a school was hosting such a massive event with so little security. U.A. should be held accountable."
United Kingdom:
London Journalist, Claire Atkins:
"Sukuna's attack raises questions about how well the hero system prepares for high-level threats. But what intrigues me is this boy, Izuku Gojo. He seems to be at the center of everything—what's his story?"
Manchester Teacher, Liam O'Connell:
"I feel bad for the students who witnessed this horror. No child should have to see their friends die in front of them. It's a failure on every level."
India:
Delhi IT Worker, Priya Sharma:
"It's heartbreaking to hear about so many innocent lives lost. The heroes tried their best, but this shows there's a limit to what even they can do. This Sukuna… is he really human?"
Mumbai Student, Ravi Patel:
"Izuku Gojo is amazing. A first-year student saving thousands of lives? That's what a hero is. But I can't shake the feeling that there's more to him than they're telling us."
Germany:
Berlin Engineer, Johann Müller:
"The scale of destruction is unimaginable. Heroes need better strategies for threats like this. It's clear that U.A. underestimated the danger."
Hamburg Artist, Greta Weiss:
"The story of Sukuna feels like a legend come to life. It's terrifying but also fascinating. What does this mean for the future of heroes?"
Australia:
Sydney Rescue Worker, Mark Evans:
"I've seen disasters, but nothing like this. I respect the heroes who fought to save lives, but we need to rethink how society handles villains with this level of power."
Melbourne Teen, Sophie Clarke:
"I was watching the festival live on TV. One second it was fun, and the next, it was a bloodbath. I'll never forget the screams. Izuku Gojo is a hero in my eyes, though."
South Africa:
Cape Town Historian, Zanele Moyo:
"The mention of Sukuna ties to ancient myths of cursed spirits. If those myths are real, then humanity may be facing forces far beyond what quirks can handle."
Johannesburg Journalist, Sipho Dlamini:
"This tragedy isn't just Japan's problem. The entire world needs to prepare for villains of this magnitude. What's stopping Sukuna from attacking another country next?"
Brazil:
São Paulo Doctor, Ana Costa:
"As a doctor, I'm horrified at the scale of the injuries and deaths. The little girl with the rewind quirk—Eri, was it?—she's a miracle worker. But it's not enough to undo the pain."
Rio de Janeiro Teen, Lucas Oliveira:
"Izuku Gojo is my new favorite hero. He didn't give up even when everything was falling apart. I want to be like him someday."
Russia:
Moscow Scientist, Ivan Petrov:
"The hero society in Japan must evolve. This isn't about quirks anymore; this is about survival against entities that defy logic."
Saint Petersburg Student, Alina Ivanova:
"I feel bad for Izuku Gojo. He's just a kid, yet he had to carry so much responsibility. But why did Sukuna address him directly? What is their connection?"
Global Summary:
The world is united in grief and horror at the "Massacre Festival." The overwhelming sentiment is a call for stronger hero systems, international collaboration, and answers about the mysterious connection between Sukuna and Izuku Gojo.
As nations mourn and debate, one question lingers in every conversation: What comes next?
The streets of Tokyo were alive with chaos and emotion, the echoes of the recent tragedy leaving their mark everywhere. People gathered in throngs, their voices a mix of sorrow, rage, and desperation.
On the cracked walls of abandoned alleys and pristine storefronts alike, graffiti bloomed like toxic flowers. The city had become a canvas of conflicting emotions.
Graffiti of Tokyo
In one corner of Akihabara, a mural stretched across a wall, depicting Izuku Gojo with his broken sunglasses tilted up, his confident grin plastered beneath the words: "The Hero Who Fights Anyway." Below it, someone had scrawled, "But at what cost?" in bright red paint, turning the message bittersweet.
In contrast, near the gates of U.A. itself, sharp, angry lines told a different story. Someone had painted the phrase, "40,000 DEAD. THIS IS YOUR HERO SOCIETY." It stood alongside crude caricatures of All Might, Eraserhead, and other U.A. teachers, their faces contorted in guilt.
A child and their parent stopped to look at one smaller graffiti piece, where Eri was depicted as an angel, her small horns glowing like a halo. Beneath it, someone had written, "The Little Hero." The parent sighed and pulled their child away before tears could fall.
Mourning Crowds
In the heart of Tokyo, near the government district, a massive rally gathered. People of all ages and walks of life stood, some holding candles, others clutching signs. The air was thick with grief, the murmurs of prayer and chants blending into an overwhelming wave of noise.
An older man in his sixties stood at the front, his voice shaky as he addressed the crowd. "My son was there… and he didn't come back. Who's going to answer for this? The heroes? The students? Or that cursed man who appeared and vanished like a ghost?"
A woman with a sign that read "Justice for the 40,000" wiped her tears, clutching the hand of a boy no older than ten. "Heroes were supposed to protect us," she whispered to a nearby reporter. "How could this happen?"
Not everyone came with anger. Some arrived in solidarity. A group of teens held up a banner saying: "Heroes Die Trying. Don't Give Up On Them!" Their voices broke as they chanted messages of support for Izuku Gojo and the remaining heroes who had fought to save as many lives as they could.
Clashes in the Streets
Not all gatherings were peaceful. Near the Shinjuku district, protesters demanding answers from U.A. clashed with a smaller group rallying in support of the students.
"You call this heroism?" shouted one man, his face red with fury. "They let a monster loose, and now people are dead!"
"They risked their lives!" a young woman shot back, clutching a sign that read "Support Our Heroes!" "Izuku Gojo and those kids saved thousands!"
The tension snapped when someone threw a bottle. Police scrambled to contain the chaos as arguments turned into scuffles, the two groups breaking apart only after several arrests were made.
U.A.'s Fence: A Place of Grief
Outside the gates of U.A., flowers and candles were piling up. People brought photographs of loved ones who had been lost, placing them against the fence in quiet remembrance.
A young girl knelt there, lighting a candle for her older brother. "He wanted to be a hero," she whispered to no one in particular, tears streaking down her face.
Nearby, a man clenched his fists as he read a note pinned to the gate. It said simply: "We want answers." He turned to a nearby teacher, Present Mic, who was standing watch. "You can't hide this forever. We deserve to know what's going on."
Present Mic's usual energy was gone. He nodded solemnly but said nothing, turning back to look at the school he had sworn to protect.
The City at Night
As night fell, the flicker of candlelight illuminated Tokyo's streets, casting eerie shadows over the graffiti-covered walls. The hum of news reports echoed from open windows, and people gathered around televisions, waiting for an explanation.
But none came.
The city was alive with questions and accusations, with hope and despair. And above it all, the shadow of Sukuna's grinning face seemed to linger, a haunting reminder of the destruction he had left behind.
O—O—O
Nezu sat in his office, the room unusually quiet except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. The air was heavy, weighed down by the events of the past days. His fur, usually pristine and groomed, was slightly disheveled, a rare sign of the immense pressure he was under. He stared at his desk, where stacks of documents lay untouched. Loss reports, property damage assessments, and demands for accountability—every sheet carried the weight of lives lost and futures shattered.
The shrill ring of his secure phone broke the silence, making his ears twitch. Only a handful of people had access to this line, and Nezu already knew who it would be.
With a deep breath, he reached for the receiver, his paw trembling slightly as he pressed it to his ear.
"Principal Nezu," came the familiar voice on the other end, sharp and authoritative. It was the Prime Minister of Japan.
"Prime Minister," Nezu responded, his tone even and composed, though his mind was racing.
"You know why I'm calling," the Prime Minister said, wasting no time. "I want answers, Nezu. The nation wants answers. Forty thousand lives lost. Billions of yen in damage. And we still don't even know who—or what—we're dealing with. You're the principal of the most prominent hero academy in the country. I expect an explanation."
Nezu's claws lightly tapped the edge of his desk as he considered his response. "Prime Minister, I understand your concern. The scale of this tragedy is unprecedented, and I assure you, U.A. is doing everything in its power to investigate and address what happened. However, the situation is… complicated."
"Complicated?" the Prime Minister snapped. "This Ryomen Sukuna—is he a threat to national security? How did he appear? Why did he target the Sports Festival? And why did he single out that boy, Izuku Gojo? The public is demanding answers, Nezu. I cannot continue to tell them we're investigating indefinitely. Do you even know who we're dealing with?"
Nezu closed his eyes, his small body sinking into his chair. He had anticipated these questions, yet preparing for them hadn't made answering them any easier. "We believe the individual responsible is connected to a pre-quirk era phenomenon. Historical records describe him as a cursed being of immense power. How he was resurrected—or if this is truly the same individual—is still under investigation."
"And Gojo?"
Nezu hesitated. "Young Izuku Gojo—is a remarkable student. His abilities are beyond what we've seen in modern times, but his connection to Sukuna remains unclear."
"That's not good enough!" the Prime Minister's voice rose, frustration clear. "You're telling me a fifteen-year-old boy with an unknown power is at the center of this chaos, and you don't have answers? What are we supposed to tell the public? That we're helpless?"
Nezu straightened, his composure firming. "Prime Minister, I assure you, helpless is the last thing we are. We are coordinating with Pro Heroes, investigating Sukuna's reappearance, and ensuring the safety of all involved. But some answers take time. Izuku Gojo is not responsible for what happened. He risked his life to save as many people as he could."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, the Prime Minister spoke, his voice lower but no less tense. "The people are scared, Nezu. They've lost faith in the hero system. They want accountability. And they need to know we can protect them from threats like this in the future."
Nezu nodded, even though the Prime Minister couldn't see him. "I understand. We'll release a statement soon, addressing the tragedy and our ongoing efforts. But I must ask for patience. Sukuna represents a threat that goes beyond quirks and heroes. We need to approach this with care."
"I'll give you time," the Prime Minister said reluctantly. "But not much. If you can't provide answers soon, the government may have to intervene. And I don't think I need to explain what that would mean for U.A. or your students."
The line went dead, leaving Nezu alone in the suffocating silence of his office. He placed the receiver down and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. His mind raced with possibilities and plans, but one thought stood out among the rest.
They were running out of time.
O—O—O
The sleek black Rolls Royce glided over the bridge, the city skyline sprawling out in the distance. Izuku Gojo sat in silence, leaning back casually with one arm draped over the headrest of his seat. Beside him, Eri sat quietly, her small hands clutching the edge of her seat nervously. Despite his easygoing demeanor, Izuku's sharp eyes darted to the rearview mirror every few moments.
"Eri," he said, breaking the silence, "you trust me, right?"
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and hesitant. "Y-Yes, Izuku. Why?"
"It's Satoru for you, remember?" he corrected with a grin, but his tone carried a slight edge. "And I need you to stay calm for a moment."
As the car approached the middle of the bridge, Izuku caught a flicker of movement in the mirror—something fast, something deliberate. A motorcycle, shadowing their car. His brow furrowed.
"Stop the car," he said to the chauffeur, his voice calm but firm.
The driver hesitated but obeyed, slowing the car to a halt on the side of the bridge.
"What's wrong?" Eri asked, clutching her seatbelt nervously.
Izuku smiled at her, but his eyes were cold. "Nothing you need to worry about, kiddo. Stay in the car and keep the doors locked, okay?"
Before she could protest, Izuku stepped out, closing the door behind him with a decisive click. He stood there for a moment, his coat billowing slightly in the breeze, as the Rolls Royce pulled away to park a safe distance ahead. The rumble of the motorcycle grew louder, and Izuku adjusted his sunglasses, his hand brushing the edge of his blindfold beneath.
The bike screeched to a halt a few meters away, and the rider dismounted with a deliberate slowness. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his face hidden behind a grotesque birdlike mask. His long coat swayed as he walked forward, boots clicking against the pavement.
Izuku tilted his head, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Alright, birdface, you've been tailing us for a while. Care to explain?"
The man chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "Izuku Gojo," he said, his voice muffled by the mask, "so we finally meet."
"That's me," Izuku replied, his tone casual but sharp. "And you are?"
"Chisaki Kai," the man said, bowing slightly. "Though most know me as Overhaul."
Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Overhaul, huh? Can't say I'm a fan of your work."
Overhaul ignored the jab, his masked face turning slightly toward the Rolls Royce parked in the distance. "I'm not here for you, Gojo. I'm here to talk about the girl."
Izuku's entire body tensed, though his expression remained neutral. "Eri? Yeah, no. That's not happening."
"She belongs to me," Overhaul said simply, his tone cold.
Izuku's smile disappeared, and he took a step forward. "She doesn't belong to anyone. Least of all, some psycho in a bird mask."
Overhaul's hand twitched slightly, but he didn't make a move. Instead, he tilted his head. "You don't understand, Gojo. That girl is special. She's the key to fixing this broken world."
"Fixing?" Izuku scoffed. "You mean destroying. Now, are we gonna do this the hard way, or are you gonna walk away?"
To Izuku's surprise, Overhaul laughed—a quiet, hollow sound. "You think I'm stupid enough to fight you? No, Gojo. Not today."
Izuku's eyes narrowed, his senses flaring. That was when he felt it—dozens of presences around him, hidden in the shadows of the bridge. Figures cloaked in black, positioned on rooftops, behind railings, even beneath the bridge itself. Goons.
"So you didn't come alone," Izuku muttered.
"Of course not," Overhaul said, his tone laced with amusement. "But they're not here to fight. Not unless you give me a reason."
Izuku smirked, his hands glowing faintly with cursed energy. "You think you're ready for that?"
Overhaul raised a hand. The hidden figures didn't move, but their intent was clear. They were ready to strike at any moment.
"No need for violence," Overhaul said, his voice calm. "I've already seen what you can do, Gojo. Fighting you would be pointless."
"Then why are you here?" Izuku asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Overhaul took a step closer, his presence imposing despite Izuku's calm demeanor. "I'm here to give you a warning. The era of quirks is coming to an end."
Izuku's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"You'll see soon enough," Overhaul said cryptically. He reached into his coat and pulled out a card, flicking it toward Izuku.
Izuku caught it midair, glancing at the address and phone number printed on it. "You think I'm just gonna let you walk away?"
Overhaul chuckled again. "You could try to stop me. But the girl isn't my concern… for now."
Izuku's cursed energy flared, cracking the pavement beneath his feet. "If you come near her again—"
Overhaul raised a hand, cutting him off. "Relax, Gojo. I have no intention of taking her. Not yet, anyway. But don't think this is over."
Izuku glared at him, his fingers itching to strike. But he held back, his instincts warning him against starting a fight with so many unknowns.
Overhaul climbed back onto his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life. "Take care of her, Gojo. She's more valuable than you realize."
With that, he sped off, his goons melting away into the shadows as quickly as they'd appeared.
Izuku stood there for a long moment, the card still in his hand. His grip tightened, crumpling the paper slightly.
"Idiots like you never learn," he muttered, turning back toward the Rolls Royce.
As he walked, he glanced at the card one last time before slipping it into his pocket. Whatever Overhaul was planning, Izuku knew it wasn't good. And he'd be ready for him when the time came.
O—O—O
Author Note: Make assumptions on what Tengen will say.
Thanks for reading this chapter. Drop your thoughts in the review section. Your words motivate me to write better, larger and with more depth.
Till next time!