The last thing I remembered was the screech of tires, the blinding glare of headlights, and the sickening crunch of metal. Death came swiftly, but it wasn't the end. When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in a hospital bed or some heavenly realm. I was in a dark, crumbling temple, surrounded by eerie statues and the faint hum of something otherworldly. My body felt… wrong. Hollow. Like I was wearing a suit of armor that wasn't mine.
I looked down at my hands, but they weren't hands—they were gauntlets, ancient and rusted, yet somehow alive. My vision blurred, and a voice echoed in my mind, deep and resonant.
*"Awaken, Foundling. You are bound to the Shells. You are bound to this world."*
Before I could process what was happening, a flood of memories surged through me. I wasn't just me anymore. I was… something else. A vessel. A mortal shell. And this world—it wasn't the grim, desolate land of Fallgrim I remembered from the game. It was vibrant, chaotic, and filled with people who wielded incredible powers called Quirks. I was in the world of *My Hero Academia*, but I wasn't a hero. I was a stranger, a relic of a forgotten age.