The hideout was silent. Dust motes danced in the dim light of the bar, undisturbed by wind or breath.
Sitting on one of the barstools, legs crossed casually, was the figure in yellow.
He wasn't vibrating now. He sat perfectly still, a stark contrast to the kinetic storm he had been minutes ago. He was holding a glass of whiskey—Kurogiri's private stock—swirling the amber liquid. He didn't drink it; he just watched the vortex create a miniature tornado inside the glass.
The air in the room ripped open.
A swirl of black mist expanded near the far wall, and Shigaraki Tomura stumbled out, falling to his knees. He was clutching his chest, gasping for air, his eyes wide and bloodshot beneath the hand that covered his face.
"Kurogiri!" Shigaraki wheezed. "The Doctor... call the Doctor! The Nomu is gone! We lost the NPC! It's all glitched!"
Kurogiri materialized fully, his mist form roiling with agitation. "Calm yourself, Shigaraki. We have escaped. The heroes cannot track us here."
"That speed..." Shigaraki scratched at his neck, his voice rising to a manic screech. "That wasn't a quirk! That was a cheat code! He turned the Nomu off! Who does that? Who is that?"
"I believe," a distorted, vibrating voice cut through the panic, "you are referring to me."
Shigaraki and Kurogiri froze.
Slowly, they turned toward the bar.
Izuku sat there, the red lenses of his cowl reflecting the dim light. He set the whiskey glass down on the counter with a soft clink.
"You..." Shigaraki hissed. He scrambled to his feet, all five fingers of his right hand outstretched. "YOU!"
Shigaraki lunged. He was fast, fueled by pure, childish rage. He aimed for the yellow suit, intending to rot it and the man inside to dust.
Izuku didn't stand up. He didn't even look at Shigaraki.
He simply raised his hand and flicked his finger.
The air pressure generated by the flick hit Shigaraki in the chest like a cannonball. The villain was launched backward, crashing into the shelving unit behind the bar, shattering bottles of expensive alcohol.
Kurogiri expanded his mist, preparing to warp the intruder in half. "You are in the wrong place, Speedster. This is not a location you walk away from."
"Sit down, bartender," Izuku commanded.
He stood up. The movement was so fast it didn't register as movement; he simply ceased to be on the stool and existed standing in the center of the room.
Red electricity began to crackle around him, the hum rising in pitch.
"If I wanted you dead," Izuku said, his voice layering over itself, "I would have phased my hand through your chest plate and crushed your physical body before your mist could expand an inch. Do not mistake my patience for weakness."
Kurogiri hesitated. The logic was sound. This man had dismantled a bio-engineered super-soldier in seconds.
Shigaraki groaned, pulling himself out of the pile of broken glass. "Why..." he coughed. "Why are you here? You saved the brats. You beat the Nomu. Are you here to arrest us? To play hero?"
Izuku laughed. It was a cold, jagged sound.
"I saved the students because they are necessary witnesses," Izuku said, walking slowly around the room, inspecting the décor. "And I destroyed your Nomu because it was an insult to efficiency. A mindless brute? Is that your master plan to kill the Symbol of Peace?"
He stopped in front of the small monitor on the bar counter—the one with the calm, static-filled screen labeled 'Audio Only'.
"You rely on brute force," Izuku said, addressing the screen, not Shigaraki. "You think breaking All Might's bones will kill him. You're wrong."
The monitor crackled. A voice, deep and smooth, emanated from the speaker.
"And I suppose you have a better idea?" All For One asked.
The room went cold. Shigaraki looked between the screen and the speedster.
Izuku smirked beneath the cowl. "Hello, Sensei. Or should I say, the Demon King of the Underground?"
"You are well-informed," All For One replied, his tone amused rather than threatened. "Zoom, was it? You possess a fascinating power. It feels... angry. Ancient."
"It is the inevitable future," Izuku corrected. "I'm here because you and I share a common obstacle. The Symbol of Peace. The false idol who smiles while the world rots."
"We tried to kill him," Shigaraki spat. "And you stopped us!"
"I stopped you from failing," Izuku snapped, turning on the young villain. "If you had killed him today, he would have died a martyr. The world would mourn him. They would build statues. His legacy would become untouchable. You don't destroy a symbol by killing the man."
Izuku began to vibrate, his form blurring.
"You destroy a symbol by proving it is obsolete. By showing the world that their god is too slow to save them. You have to break his spirit before you break his body."
All For One hummed thoughtfully through the speaker. "Psychological warfare. You want to dismantle the faith society places in heroes."
"I want to show them reality," Izuku said. "And I can help you. I can be the knife that cuts the strings of this puppet society."
"And what is the price?" All For One asked. "Men like you do not work for free, and you certainly do not bow to others."
"I bow to no one," Izuku agreed, his red eyes narrowing. "I don't want money. I don't want resources. I want access."
"Access to what?"
"Information," Izuku said. "Hero patrol routes. Deep government files on quirk research. The things you have spent a century collecting. In exchange... I will make sure the heroes never see you coming. I will be the lightning rod that draws their fire while you prepare the real war."
Shigaraki glared at him, nursing his bruised ribs. "I don't need a babysitter. I'm the leader here."
Izuku vanished.
He reappeared sitting on the barstool again, the whiskey glass back in his hand, the liquid still swirling from the momentum he had imparted earlier.
"You're a child throwing a tantrum, Shigaraki," Izuku said calmly. "I'm offering you a chance to grow up."
He stood up and walked toward the door—not the warp gate, but the physical door to the alleyway.
"The Sports Festival is coming up," Izuku said, his hand on the knob. "The world will be watching. If you want to make a statement, don't attack the students. Attack the faith."
He looked back, the red lightning flashing one last time.
"I'll be in touch. Don't be slow."
ZOOM.
A gust of wind tore through the bar, knocking the remaining bottles off the shelves. The door swung open and shut in a millisecond.
Izuku Midoriya was gone.
Shigaraki stared at the empty space, his hands trembling with a mix of rage and awe.
"Sensei..." Shigaraki whispered. "Do we kill him?"
"No, Tomura," All For One's voice came through the monitor, sounding genuinely delighted. "We observe him. A quirk that bends the laws of physics... and a mind that hates All Might as much as I do? I think we have found a very dangerous, very useful friend."