A few minutes earlier…
On The rooftop of a building in front of the shopping district.
Wind swept across the concrete, carrying with it the distant echoes of panicked shouts and the rumbling boom of explosions, muted by distance, yet heavy enough to tremble through the air.
In that brittle silence, a faint ripple disturbed the space beside an old ventilation unit.
A thin thread of purple mist seeped into existence, curling upward like smoke from a candle's dying flame. It gathered slowly, patiently, as though the air itself were being coaxed into shape. The color deepened, black edges swirling into it until the haze thickened enough to swallow light.
Then, with a soft, unnatural hum, the mist condensed into the figure of a man.
He was tall and composed, his entire form obscured except for the metal brace affixed to his neck.
Where muscles and skin should have been, there was only shifting fog, breathing in and out like a living shadow.
Kurogiri lifted his head, the yellow glow of his eyes flickering as he observed the scene below.
flashes of orange fire, clusters of uniformed heroes, civilians pressed against police barriers, was reflected in the dull sheen of metal at his throat.
He raised his hand, as though inviting someone to step through a doorway only he could see. Reality responded with a whispering distortion.
A second gate of swirling darkness unfurled beside him, its interior trembling like a disturbed pond.
First came a hand, sickly white pale, bony fingers outstretched as if searching for something to cling to.
Then, with a jerking motion, a young man stumbled out, his entire body decorated, no, claimed by disembodied hands clinging to his face, the back of his head, his shoulders, arms and hands, like the memories of every person he had ever touched.
Shigaraki Tomura landed unsteadily, a rasping breath cutting from his throat as he instinctively scratched at the hand covering his neck. The scraping sound was sharp enough to echo across the rooftop.
"Kurogiri…" His voice came muffled behind the fingers covering his face, yet still carried that distinct irritability, that simmering hostility toward the world around him.
"Why'd you bring me here? What's going on down there? Is this about what Sensei told you to look into?"
Kurogiri's mist swirled faintly, the closest thing he ever had to a sigh.
"Shigaraki-san, I regret to report that I found nothing. I monitored the heroes, the police… but they remain as clueless as we are. No trace of the source behind this morning's phenomenon."
Shigaraki's fingers paused over his throat, waiting.
"But," Kurogiri continued, "I thought this particular villain might interest you. Perhaps even be a worthy addition to the Villain League you want to create. Please… have a look."
From within the folds of swirling fog, he produced a pair of binoculars.
Shigaraki snatched them almost immediately, the abrupt motion causing one of the hands on his wrist to sway.
He lifted the lenses to his eyes.
The world shifted into sharp clarity.
Down below, the sludge villain clung to a blond teenager, thick tendrils of green muck coiling around the boy's torso like wet ropes. The teenager thrashed wildly, palms erupting in bursts of explosion
—BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM!—
each shockwave flashing bright enough to illuminate the street.
But no matter how violently the explosions tore the sludge apart, the villain reformed just as quickly, laughter gurgling through the air like bubbling tar.
Shigaraki lowered the binoculars slightly, the faintest pull of interest forming at the corners of his concealed mouth.
"he looks gross," he muttered. The word was low, drawn out. "I want to dust that thing just for existing."
A beat passed, his tone shifting. "But… he's not useless, He is Clever Enough to use the boy as a hostage, Opportunistic, I like opportunistic."
He returned the binoculars to his eye holes, studying the blond boy now.
"And that brat… his Quirk is good, With explosions like that, they could cause serious damage to this society."
Something like excitement crawled into his voice, subtle but unmistakable.
"Ha… look at them, Kurogiri, Look carefully."
He tilted the binoculars toward the cluster of heroes gathered helplessly in front the villain, and then at the worried expressions of people behind the cops barrier.
"No one's moving, No one can do a damn thing, And the people…"
His shoulders trembled faintly, the laugh building slow, deliberate.
"Their faces… hah… all that panic, All that fear, This is what the real world looks like."
The laugh grew louder, breaking into a warped, breathless rhythm.
"Heh… heh… ahahaha…Good job sewage, I've decidedn I want himn Let's kidnap him!"
Kurogiri's eyes dimmed slightly.
"Shigaraki-san… we should wait. There is a more… strategic timing."
Tomura's fingers froze mid-scratch.
"…Strategic?"
"I examined the details surrounding this villain," Kurogiri explained. "He is the same one All Might chased earlier. Somehow he escaped. And according to police reports… he can possess victims. If he succeeds, he gains their Quirks."
A moment of silence.
Then Shigaraki lowered the binoculars completely.
"…Go on."
"It would be best," Kurogiri said, "to wait until he succeeds in taking over that boy's body. Ideally when he reaches desperation. If we intervene then… he will be loyal to us afterward."
Slowly, Shigaraki's shoulders lifted with a drawn breath.
"That's… not bad…"
His head tilted slightly, like a cat watching something die.
"But… what if All Might suddenly drops in and ruins everything?"
Kurogiri turned toward the city below, the mist around his shoulders rippling like disturbed water.
"Shigaraki-san. Has it not struck you as strange… that All Might has not appeared? A petty thief is enough to summon him, and yet here, a child is being eaten alive."
Kurogiri's voice lowered.
"This alone confirms Master's Guess."
Shigaraki stood still for a moment.
Still enough that even the hands covering him looked frozen.
Then—
"So… Sensei was right."
His breath stuttered.
"The Symbol of Peace… is injured."
A tremor ran through him, first his fingers, then his arms, then his entire frame began to shake as laughter welled up from somewhere deep, somewhere hollow.
"Good…"
A broken chuckle escaped.
"Good… GOOD… HA… HAHAHAHAHA!"
He doubled over, his laughter ricocheting off rooftop walls.
"One push, That's all it takes, Just one. And then—bang! this fragile society collapses!"
His voice carried the certainty of a child who had already smashed the ant farm.
Kurogiri merely watched.
Neither noticed the faint flutter drifting down from above, a single red feather spinning gently through the air, settling on the rooftop gravel behind them without the slightest sound.