The world was silent.
Every television, every phone, every radio every device that could transmit the battle was tuned in to the chaos unfolding in New York. Billions watched with wide eyes, unable to tear their gaze away from the clash between two titanic forces.
A veteran news broadcaster, his voice trembling but steady, narrated the events. Thanks to his Quirk, Clairvoyance, he could provide the world with an uninterrupted, high-definition view of the devastation. It was as if the world stood on the edge of oblivion, witnessing the wrath of a monster against the resistance of a legend reborn.
And in the midst of it all Deku.
The hero who had vanished from history. The boy who had sacrificed everything. The warrior they thought was lost.
Now, he stood against Umak, the Dragon Emperor.
A villain so feared that the world had given up on fighting him, surrendering an entire nation just to keep him at bay. He had ruled unchallenged for over fifty years, a mortal god among men, feared and revered in equal measure.
Yet here he was, grinning like a madman, delighted beyond words.
Because, after decades of disappointment, of waiting, of searching he had finally found someone who could kill him.
Umak had not always been a monster.
Once, he had been a boy.
A weak, scrawny boy who had watched helplessly as a group of so-called heroes entered his home and violated his mother and sisters, leaving them broken husks, empty shells of the people they once were. He had tried to fight, to stop them, to scream to do something but his body had been too weak, his Quirk too insignificant.
The government protected those monsters. They celebrated them. And when Umak tried to expose them, to tell the world what kind of "heroes" they truly were, he was silenced.
They tried to erase him.
He was left beaten, bloodied, and barely breathing in a gutter, his body broken beyond recognition.
And yet, the next morning, he woke up.
Not only was he alive he was stronger. His wounds had healed, his body felt different. His once-soft scales were now tougher, vibrant with power.
It took near-death experiences to realize the truth of his Quirk.
The more he broke, the more he grew.
The closer he came to dying, the stronger he became.
That day, Umak stood beneath the sky and roared his promise to the heavens.
"I am UMAK! From this day forward, I will not let anyone steal my happiness! I will destroy all who dare to take from me! I will become the strongest, and the world will bow before me!"
And so he fought.
He fought, and fought, and fought until no one dared to meet his gaze.
Heroes, villains, police, government soldiers it didn't matter. They were all stepping stones. Each battle pushed him closer to death. Each time he came back stronger.
Until one day, there was no one left who could challenge him.
And so, he took his throne.
For over fifty years, Umak ruled an empire built on fear, a nation that bent the knee to his every word. No war was waged against him. No hero dared to challenge him. He was absolute.
Until his body began to fail him.
An incurable illness. A fate no Quirk or science could stop.
Even as his empire remained unchallenged, his body betrayed him. The unstoppable force that had crushed all opposition was crumbling, weakening with each passing day.
But he would not die a weak man.
He would not allow his body to rot away in some bed, his enemies waiting like vultures for his inevitable death.
If he was going to die, it would be his way.
And so he sought battle.
When he watched the war seven years ago, his blood boiled.
Monsters clashing against monsters, the earth shaking beneath their might. All Might. Star and Stripe. All For One. Tomura Shigaraki. And Deku the warrior who had stood at the center of it all, the eye of the storm.
That was the battle he wanted.
That was the battle he craved.
But the war ended in tragedy.
Everyone who could fight at that level perished. Those who survived were broken, their power stolen, their strength lost. The legends were gone.
And the world was left in the hands of weaklings.
So be it.
If there were no worthy warriors left, he would burn the world down in search of one.
And yet, it had all been pointless.
No hero was strong enough. No warrior could stand before him. Not in America. Not anywhere.
Until now.
Until this golden-winged brat dared to stand against him.
Umak attacked. He threw a punch meant to end a life in an instant. A blow strong enough to crush a mountain, to turn bone and flesh into dust.
But the brat withstood it.
The dust settled. The golden-winged warrior stood unharmed.
And his mask fell.
The world froze.
Umak's entire body trembled, his breath hitching in his throat.
That green hair.
That face.
Those freckles.
For decades, he had dreamed of this battle. And he had given up hope of ever experiencing it.
But now
Now, standing before him, was the warrior he had longed for.
The boy who had lost everything in the war. The one whose power had been erased from existence.
Or so the world had believed.
Umak could barely contain the laughter rising in his chest.
"Deku."
The name rolled off his tongue like a prayer, like a promise fulfilled.
A grin stretched across his face, wide and feral. His golden eyes gleamed with hunger, with joy.
"Finally…" he whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation.
His body shuddered with excitement. His claws flexed, his scales burned with power, his blood roared in his veins.
"Finally death is here!"
He threw his head back and roared, his voice shaking the heavens.
Across the world, people trembled.
In Japan, in Yaoyorozu's private bar, the women of Class 1-A clutched each other, their hearts pounding in their chests.
Uraraka's breath hitched.
"Deku-kun…"
The name left her lips in a whisper, her voice laced with disbelief, hope, and something deeper something she had buried for years.
Her hands trembled. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.
Because the boy she had once loved, the one she had thought was lost to the world, was back