In a darkened room somewhere in Japan, dozens of monitors cast a flickering glow, illuminating the area with an eerie light.
Plop.
Plop.
Two foul-smelling puddles of sludge splattered onto the ground, each depositing a battered figure—Tomura Shigaraki and Kurogiri.
"I never thought this new Quirk would first be used to save you two."
A tall, shadowy figure turned in his swivel chair, his gaze settling on the scorched, beaten form of Tomura. His voice was low and rasping, laced with disdain.
He surveyed Tomura's injuries, taking note of the blackened burns covering his body.
"Electric burns?"
"Not exactly."
A man in a lab coat stepped forward from the shadows, his glasses glinting ominously as he examined Tomura with a detached, clinical air. "It's more likely he was hit by a high-voltage electric discharge. Fortunately, his combat suit absorbed some of the damage. He'll live."
"Electricity..." The shadowy figure paused, pondering. "There are no pro heroes with lightning-type Quirks that come to mind."
He turned his gaze to Kurogiri, who seemed weakened but intact, his misty form swirling slowly.
"Tell me what happened."
Kurogiri, casting a brief glance at Tomura being taken away by the doctor, gave a respectful nod. He began recounting the events at U.A., detailing the chaos, the unexpected resistance, and the near-fatal encounter with the students.
---
Meanwhile, back at U.A. High School, the situation was still in flux.
Midnight's unexpected request had left Kaminari at a bit of a loss. After some negotiation, he'd finally agreed to join her for the occasional morning jog. In truth, he didn't want to. He'd been using those early morning hours in Omiya Park to test and refine his Quirk abilities away from prying eyes.
But Midnight had assured him her time was limited, that she could only run for about thirty minutes each day, and often not every day. She'd need to leave by 5:30 to fulfill her own obligations. Given her understanding, Kaminari had reluctantly accepted.
Fifteen minutes after Midnight and the students had left, a swarm of police cars surrounded the facility, flashing lights reflecting off the walls of the building. And, as expected, a crowd of reporters had followed close behind, their cameras and microphones ready for action. They were like sharks scenting blood in the water.
But today, the police weren't in a cooperative mood. They established a perimeter around U.A. and flatly refused to let any of the reporters get closer.
"We're issuing a strict warning," a police officer announced to the gathered media. "Any attempts to bypass the perimeter will result in your immediate removal and possible charges. Consider yourselves warned!"
The reporters, surprisingly, complied without much resistance. In fact, they looked positively thrilled.
An attack on U.A. High School by villains, during a student training session no less? This was headline news. The reporters could already imagine tomorrow's papers flying off the shelves, and the bonuses waiting for them as a reward.
They were content to wait. Once the police and heroes emerged, they'd pounce, snapping photos and shouting questions. Getting even the briefest quotes or shots of the teachers or police officers would be enough to write their initial stories. They could fill in the details later.
Inside the gates of U.A., police officers and hero teachers were working in tandem to round up the defeated villains, who were now being led out in handcuffs toward waiting police vans. The sight of the shackled villains being led to the convoy sent a ripple of excitement through the reporters, who began snapping photos in a frenzy.
Flash. Flash.
The gate of U.A. lit up under the barrage of camera flashes, capturing the villains' defiant or downcast expressions as they were marched away. The newer police officers found themselves squinting under the bright lights, not yet accustomed to the blinding glare of the press.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the facility, Principal Nezu and the teachers were overseeing the students as they boarded the buses. Reporters weren't allowed on this side, thanks to the police blocking all access points.
"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…" Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi muttered to himself, counting the students as they exited the building.
"Looks like everyone's accounted for, except for Midoriya, who's being treated for his leg injuries," he confirmed, sighing in relief. He and Officer Sansa Tamakawa, the cat-headed officer, exchanged a glance, each clearly relieved. If there had been even one casualty, they'd be facing an unimaginable level of scrutiny and pressure.
"Let's allow the kids to head back," Detective Tsukauchi decided, waving his subordinates back. "They've been through enough for today. We'll question them another time if necessary."
Officer Sansa nodded, watching the students with a somber expression. "Hero society almost made a grave mistake today."
Nearby, Ashido, Uraraka, and the other girls clustered together, asking after Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen. When they learned both teachers would make a full recovery despite their injuries, a collective sigh of relief spread through the group. Both Aizawa and Thirteen had risked everything to protect them, and the students felt a renewed sense of gratitude toward their teachers.
Just as they lined up to board the buses, Principal Nezu emerged with Midnight and the Sniper hero beside him. Detective Tsukauchi quickly approached them.
"Principal, as a precaution, we'd like permission to search every corner of the school."
Nezu nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Though some teachers may voice concerns, I believe your presence here is important. And searching is what you officers do best, after all."
Detective Tsukauchi smiled, appreciative of Nezu's cooperation. He turned to Officer Sansa. "Arrange a full search of the campus, immediately."
By the time Kaminari and the others finally returned to U.A., the sky was awash with the colors of sunset, casting a beautiful orange glow over the campus.
Despite the breathtaking view, most students were simply exhausted. Having faced life-and-death situations, all they wanted was to go home, find some peace, and recover. Even Kaminari, who usually had training plans or study sessions with Momo after school, was too drained to think about anything else.
Dragging himself through his front door, Kaminari barely had time to call out before he found himself wrapped in a tight hug from his mom, who had rushed over from the living room. His dad followed closely behind, visibly shaken.
"My baby, are you okay?" his mother cried, looking him over frantically. "Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see!"