Flames streaked across the night sky as loud explosions continued to ravage the surrounding areas. The city groaned beneath the weight of destruction, the scent of burning metal and scorched concrete thick in the air. With a deep rumbling, another skyscraper collapsed, falling like a house of cards, its debris swallowing the surrounding buildings in a wave of devastation.
Tanks streamed through the streets, their treads carving deep scars into the cracked pavement. The roar of machine gun fire filled the air, a helpless resistance against the towering figure that loomed over them, its body seemingly blotting out the sky itself. Cannons fired, shells exploding against the behemoth's form, but the barrage only forced it back temporarily.
Then, with scarlet-tinted pupils burning like embers, the giant roared. The sheer force of its voice sent shockwaves through the battlefield. And then, it leapt.
A monstrous shadow fell over the hapless soldiers, their weapons now useless in the face of overwhelming power. They didn't even have time to scream before they were obliterated. Blood soaked the streets. Panic, despair, madness—these were the only constants in this war. Even the most renowned of heroes, the most hardened villains, the most respected and feared individuals—those who stood at the pinnacle of this country's power—were being forced to confront a long-forgotten reality.
They, too, could perish.
They, too, were mortal.
The world burned around them, and yet, this was only a fraction of the battle—a microcosm of chaos. Not even the infamous Dark Age before the advent of heroes had seen such carnage on this scale.
Amidst it all, Rio stood alone on a five-story building, untouched by the surrounding destruction. His figure cut a solitary silhouette against the smoke-choked sky. Below, the battle raged on, quirks flashing in all directions. The violence was relentless, but Rio stood still, like an observer, almost detached from the chaos. His gaze swept over the ruined city, his heart heavy.
He wasn't unaffected, though. The light breeze tugged at his clothes, but beneath the calm exterior, there was a storm within him—a battle of its own. He could hear the screams of pain, the crack of shattered glass, the deafening roar of exploding buildings. The weight of it all pressed against him, but he wouldn't let it break him.
His fists clenched, the remnants of his own powers crackling around him. Despite the noise, the chaos, and the destruction, Rio was quiet. He couldn't be anything but still right now.
And then, through the haze, a green blur shot toward him. He recognized it instantly.
The protagonist of this battle—a green-haired young man with multiple scars carved into his body—gritted his teeth. Izuku Midoriya, known to the world as Deku
The sound of powerful gusts filled the air as Deku landed on the rooftop with a crash, kicking up a cloud of dust. His green hair, wild as always, was soaked in sweat, his eyes burning with fury.
And above him, hovering with an eerie calmness amidst the chaos, stood Rio. His expression unreadable, his golden eyes cold. He gazed upon the battlefield with neither triumph nor regret, his thoughts entirely unknown.
Below, war raged on, quirks flashing in all directions. Flames roared, buildings crumbled, and bodies fell. But up here, amidst the broken heavens, the real war was being waged between two former friends.
Deku's body ached, every fiber of his being screaming from the toll of this prolonged fight, but he couldn't afford to stop. Not now. Not when everything was at stake.
"What have you done?!" Deku's voice cracked through the battlefield like a whip, raw with emotion, with fury, with sorrow. His fists clenched so tightly they trembled, One For All sparking to life around him in chaotic bursts of green lightning. "Is this the world you wanted, Rio?! A pile of ruins?!"
Still, Rio remained unmoved. He exhaled slowly, his breath steady. "A little dramatic, don't you think, Deku?" His voice was eerily calm, a sharp contrast to the storm raging around them. "I mean, sure, it's a mess down there, but I'd call it… necessary."
Deku's emerald eyes burned with disbelief, with something dangerously close to heartbreak. "Necessary?! Are you seriously telling me this is necessary?! Look around you!" He gestured to the carnage below. "This isn't how you save people! You don't burn the world down and expect it to rise from the ashes! This isn't how this works!"
Rio's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You're still clinging to that naive idealism." His voice was soft, almost pitying. "I'm sorry, Deku, but you're too late. The world was already broken. You think you can fix it with a kind heart and an inspiring speech? No. Sometimes, things need to be torn down before they can be rebuilt." He spread his arms wide. "This is to pave way for the future."
Deku shook his head, his chest heaving with barely contained frustration. "This isn't you, Rio. I know you. You wouldn't do this."
For the first time, Rio's expression faltered. The tension in his shoulders slackened, his gaze momentarily wavering.
A flicker of doubt passed through his features. A shadow of something he had long buried.
His fingers twitched at his sides, and for a brief second, his body betrayed him—his hands trembled, just slightly. But then, he took a slow breath, shoving it back down, locking it away beneath layers of hardened resolve.
"It doesn't matter anymore," he said, quieter this time. "Maybe I'm not sure either. But it has to be this way." His golden eyes hardened once more. "I wanted to protect people once… I really did. But you can't protect everyone. Not without tearing the whole thing apart and starting over. And I need to let people choose their path. This is a war of choice. Blood and fire, Deku, that's the price of a new world."
Deku's face twisted with emotion, a battle waging within him. "No… There has to be another way. You can't—"
"No" Rio cut in, his voice sharp. "You can't save everyone, Deku."
A bitter smile played at his lips, but there was no joy in it. No triumph. Only something hollow. "Some things are beyond saving. This isn't just necessary. It's inevitable."
The air around them crackled, thick with power, with words unspoken.
Deku's fists trembled at his sides. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest. "Then I'll stop you."
Rio exhaled, shaking his head. "You're still trying to be the hero, aren't you?" His smile turned dark. "But heroes don't get to choose when to stop fighting. You just keep throwing punches, even when it's too late."
Deku gritted his teeth. "Then I'll keep throwing them until you wake up."
His body blurred as he shot forward, fists crackling with energy, lightning arcing off his form as he closed the distance in an instant. "I'm not going to let you get away with this, Rio! You're wrong!"
Rio didn't flinch.
He met Deku's punch with his own.
A colossal shockwave exploded outward as their fists connected, a burst of energy so violent it cracked the very sky. The force shattered the rooftop beneath them, sending debris raining down upon the battlefield below. Soldiers, heroes, and villains alike paused for a fraction of a second, drawn to the sheer magnitude of power unleashed above them.
Time seemed to slow.
Then, the dust settled.
Deku stood, chest heaving, his uniform scorched and torn, his body aching from the force of their clash. Across from him, Rio remained standing, breathing heavily, his expression unreadable.
But for the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes, something inhuman.
"This isn't you, Rio," Deku whispered. "You have to know that."
Silence stretched between them.
Then, Rio's smile returned—small, bitter… resigned.
"Maybe," he murmured. "But I'm not turning back. Not anymore."
The battle wasn't over.
Not yet.
And as the war raged on, two former friends stood at the precipice of a decision that would shape the world forever.