The air was thick with tension as Lucas stood his ground in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the League of Villains. His instincts screamed for him to flee, but there was no escape now. They had him cornered, each member of the League moving closer, their quirk abilities at the ready.
Tomura Shigaraki, with his unsettling grin, stepped forward first. His fingers twitched, the air around them rippling with the malevolent energy of his quirk, Decay. The slightest touch from his fingers would obliterate anything in its path, reducing it to nothingness. Lucas could feel the weight of his power—the danger it posed—and he knew that getting too close would mean certain death.
Spinner wasn't far behind, his katana drawn and ready. His lizard-like eyes narrowed as he sized Lucas up, his every movement precise, like a hunter stalking its prey. His blade gleamed faintly under the light, ready to strike with lethal intent. Dabi, with his burning blue flames, watched from the shadows, a sadistic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His flames were quick and destructive, capable of burning through flesh and bone with terrifying efficiency.
Then there was Toga, her bloodshot eyes glinting in the low light. She giggled in a maddening, almost innocent-sounding way, as if the situation were nothing more than a game to her. But Lucas wasn't fooled. Her quirk was a dangerous one, capable of mimicking the appearance and abilities of anyone whose blood she drank.
Yet, at this moment, it was clear: Toga wasn't the real threat.
The real danger was the sheer ferocity and unpredictability of the others. And Lucas knew that if he didn't act fast, he would be overwhelmed. There was no way he could take them all on, not with his current form. The odds were stacked against him, and it was only a matter of time before they tore him apart.
---
But then, a voice, one not of flesh but of something ethereal, cut through his mind—a voice that had been his companion, his guide through this nightmare of a life.
"Lucas..." the voice said, low and haunting, like a distant whisper carried on a cold wind. "You cannot win this battle by fighting like you are. You have to evolve. You have to embrace what you are."
Lucas's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, everything around him seemed to blur. He recognized the voice. It was William, his mentor, his twisted, spectral guide. The man who had been with him ever since the day he had been reborn in this world of heroes and villains. But William was no longer a man—he had become something far darker, a vestige that lingered in the corners of Lucas's mind.
"Embrace what you truly are," William's voice urged again. "This is your moment, Lucas. You can become what they fear. You can become the nightmare. And franlkly I'd say you don't have theluxury of choice"
---
As the League advanced, Lucas's mind raced. He could feel the familiar pull of his power, the hunger for transformation bubbling inside him. But he had always been cautious, wary of what his more monstrous forms could do. *Nightmarionette*—the form that could stretch its limbs to impossible lengths, that could bring terror with every movement. It was a power he had never used fully, not wanting to lose control.
But now, in this moment of desperation, something inside him clicked. His options were limited. If he didn't act soon, he would be torn apart by the League's combined strength. He had no other choice.
The moment he made the decision, the transformation began.
---
A surge of power tore through Lucas's body, and he felt his bones creak and crack as they shifted, elongated, and distorted. His limbs stretched, growing to an impossible length—three times the size of a normal human's, each joint clicking as it grew. His body contorted, the shape of a monstrous puppet made of darkness and malice.
His eyes, once yellow and animalistic, now became an unblinking, pure white. They glowed with a chilling, unfeeling malice, devoid of any emotion except a cold, calculated hunger. His face, once the familiar visage of his Nightmare Foxy form, became more skeletal, more featureless—resembling a twisted marionette made of sinew and bone.
His arms stretched and writhed, the joints popping as they lengthened further, until they reached the height of three small supermarkets stacked on top of each other. His fingers, elongated and gnarled, twisted like the strings of a puppet—capable of slicing through steel or wrapping around a person's throat with terrifying ease. The air around him seemed to warp with the sheer force of his transformation, as though the very space bent under the weight of his power.
And with the transformation came a shift in Lucas's mind. No longer was he the hesitant boy who was unsure of himself. No longer was he the teenager trying to outrun his past. In this form, he was pure **calculated malice**. He was the nightmare that haunted the minds of those who dared to oppose him.
---
Tomura Shigaraki, recognizing the change immediately, froze for a brief moment. His eyes widened, and his smile faltered as he took in the towering, twisted figure before him. The malice emanating from Lucas was palpable, suffocating the air with its cold presence.
"Shit," Shigaraki muttered, his fingers twitching, but the fear was unmistakable. "This isn't just some freak…"
Before anyone could react, Lucas lunged, his limbs extending with an almost unnatural speed. He reached out toward Spinner, whose katana swung at him with deadly precision. But Lucas was faster. His arm stretched out and twisted, wrapping around Spinner's sword and yanking it from his grasp with terrifying force.
Dabi reacted next, flames bursting from his hands. His blue fire flared, roaring toward Lucas with the intensity of a wildfire. But Lucas didn't flinch. With a single flick of his extended arm, he sent a shockwave through the air that dispersed the flames like a gust of wind scattering leaves. The heat of Dabi's attack didn't even faze him.
Toga, her manic smile spreading wider, tried to move in for a closer attack, her knives drawn. But Lucas had already anticipated her. His arm lashed out, sending her tumbling back with a single swipe. She hit the ground hard, her smile replaced with a look of confusion and frustration.
---
Lucas turned back toward Shigaraki, who was now retreating slightly, his hands raised in a defensive posture. "This is... this is madness!" he spat. "What kind of freak are you?"
Lucas didn't answer. He didn't need to. He knew exactly what he was. He was the manifestation of fear. A nightmare brought to life. And now, for the first time, he was no longer hiding from it.
He didn't care that they were the League of Villains. He didn't care about their plans. All that mattered now was survival.
With his limbs stretched and his presence overwhelming, Lucas reached for Tomura, his fingers curling into an elongated, monstrous claw. Shigaraki's eyes widened in fear as he realized he wasn't going to be able to avoid this one.
"Die!" Lucas roared, his voice distorted and hollow, like a beast roaring from the depths of some forgotten abyss. And then, he struck.
---
The battle was far from over, but in that moment, it was clear: Lucas had stepped into a new realm of power. A realm where the rules of the world no longer applied. And for the League of Villains, that meant one thing: they were in the presence of a nightmare they could no longer escape.