Chapter 82 - 9-

Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Thoughts and Reflections 2

A sharp crash rang through the bar as Shigaraki flung another shot glass against the wall, shards scattering like angry little stars. He didn't care. Let the place fall apart. After what happened at USJ, everything felt pointless anyway. Stupid mission. Stupid plan. He was furious—and humiliated.

He yanked another glass from behind the bar, sloshing whiskey into it with shaking hands. It wasn't even about the drink anymore. His head was spinning with just two names: All Might… and that damn Green Lantern.

It was supposed to be perfect. The Nomu was unstoppable. The students were scattered like bugs. Even All Might walked right into their trap. For a moment, it felt like everything was going right. But then he showed up. That glowing idiot in green. He cheated. He ruined everything. Shigaraki's decay should have worked. It always worked. 

Downing another shot of whiskey, he quickly poured himself another, his hands shaking as the memories surged back. The moment he tried to decay the construct—the one the Green Lantern made—and it didn't work. The moment everything started to fall apart. Somehow, that smug bastard had tipped off the heroes. They showed up way earlier than anyone expected.

He cheated. He had to have cheated. Used admin powers or some kind of hack to win and ruin everything in one smug, glowing moment.

He cheated.

He cheated.

HE CHEATED!

HE CHEATED! CHEATED CHEATED CHEATED CHEATED—

He felt something warm sloshing down his hand. Looking down, he saw the shot glass—what little remained of it—crumbling into dust between his fingers.

With a snarl, he clenched his hand in rage and lashed out, striking the whiskey bottle. It flew across the bar and smashed against the far wall, exploding into a hundred shards and splattering whiskey like blood across the cracked plaster.

He screamed and clutched his arm, pain shooting through him like fire. He was still recovering from the gunshot wounds—courtesy of that damn revolver hero at USJ. The bullets had gone straight through, thankfully missing bone. Kurogiri had stitched him up and wrapped the wounds in tight bandages, but even with the whiskey dulling his nerves, the area was still raw and tender. Just one more reason to be pissed off.

Once the pain dulled to a manageable throb, he stumbled back behind the bar, scouring for another bottle. The shelves along the wall held nothing but wine—useless. The good stuff had to be stored somewhere underneath. He rummaged through cabinets and crates, growing more impatient with each second. But no matter how long he searched, he couldn't find anything worth drinking. Nothing that looked good. Nothing strong enough.

"Are you feeling upset, Shigaraki-san? What seems to be the matter?"

The voice came from the front of the bar, calm and deliberate—unmistakably Kurogiri.

Still crouched behind the bar, rifling through the lower cabinets, Shigaraki didn't bother looking up. He snarled, "What do you think, idiot?"

Shigaraki shivered.

Strange. When had it gotten so cold in here?

"Is it the Green Lantern that's on your mind?" Kurogiri asked, his voice calm, edged with a faint note of curiosity. "Is he the one making you feel... frustrated?"

"Who else do you think it could be?" Shigaraki snapped. "He cheated. Ruined everything with that stupid ring of his. His constructs didn't decay—even when I had my hand on them for seconds. That Quirkless loser used some hacked item to win a fight he had no right winning. I should've won. Not him!"

He slammed a cabinet shut, then finally pulled out a bottle that looked halfway decent. Vodka. It would do.

Leaning back against the bar, Shigaraki turned his eyes to the wall of wine bottles. Disgusting.

He opened the vodka bottle and took a long drink. The bitter taste burned down his throat, but he barely noticed. His fingers crept up to his neck, scratching absentmindedly as his anger continued to boil over.

"He completely demolished the Nomu," he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. "That thing was made to be as strong as All Might. And he tossed it around. Burned it to ash like it was nothing. Like taking out the trash."

His scratching grew harsher, more frantic. Nails dragging hard across his skin, leaving raw, red trails.

"Everything was planned perfectly. It was supposed to be my moment. My triumph!" Shigaraki snapped, his voice rising with frustration. "I would've destroyed All Might, the hero students, and a few other pros. Finally show society how pathetic they all are without their precious 'Symbol of Peace' to protect them."

He dragged out the title with mocking contempt, practically spitting it.

"Without him constantly feeding them bullshit to calm the coddled trash, they would've seen how powerless they really are without him. But instead? All it showed was how fast I got my ass beat and taken away. The attack didn't even last ten minutes. We were completely obliterated—a total party wipe."

His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sneer.

"And somehow, it just made his bullshit feel even more true than before in their eyes."

Shigaraki sat slumped behind the bar, feeling more defeated and angrier than ever. His fingers scratched at his neck with increasing intensity, now drawing thin trails of blood.

"It seems he's becoming another symbol for society to believe in," Kurogiri said, his voice thoughtful. "Someone as strong as All Might. Someone who brings them the same hope and sense of security."

"And that's what pisses me off," Shigaraki growled. "He's just becoming another shield for them to hide behind. Another lie they cling to so they can sleep at night. And he's only going to make this hero-saturated society feel even safer. As long as he's around…"

He trailed off, voice low and seething. The scratching at his neck slowed, then stopped altogether.

"As long as he's around," Shigaraki muttered, his tone low and bitter, "they'll always feel safe. But if he's removed along with All Might—if he's exposed for what he really is, just a pathetic Quirkless loser hiding behind a shitty weapon—then they'll feel something worse than fear."

He paused, eyes narrowing, voice sharpening with conviction.

"They'll feel despair. Real despair. Because if their top heroes, their so-called symbols, aren't there to save them... then who will?"

A cold, steady resolve began to settle over him, stronger than anything he had felt since the failure at USJ.

"But I couldn't decay his constructs." Shigaraki muttered, his voice low, more thoughtful now. "If he has those, how am I supposed to land a killing blow?"

"You're right." Kurogiri replied calmly, his tone measured and analytical. "From what we've observed, his constructs are immune to your Quirk. Based on his own words, they appear to be made of light—specifically, a form of hard light. His entire suit is composed of the same material, just like his weapons and barriers."

He paused slightly, as if calculating.

"In that case, your decay likely won't affect any part of his body that's covered by the suit."

"Then my decay is useless against him," Shigaraki muttered, frustration creeping back into his voice. "There's no part of his body exposed that I can touch. Nothing I can use to land a killing blow. Nothing, except…"

His eyes widened slightly as the realization clicked into place. He slowly set the vodka bottle down on the floor.

"His head," he said, voice quieter now, almost awed. "He doesn't cover it—just that mask. If I can get close enough to touch it, even for a second… it's game over for him."

A twisted smile crept onto his face, the first real one since the mission had failed.

"A winning play."

It could work. All he needed was to keep him distracted long enough to pull it off. Just a moment, a single touch—that was all it would take.

Yes. It would be perfect.

Let's see how much that shitty little ring helps him then.

"Maybe you could open a portal above his head—catch him off guard," Shigaraki mused, eyes narrowed in thought. "Or we could drop another Nomu on him, keep him busy just long enough for me to get in close. What do you think would work best, Kurogiri?"

He waited, but no answer came.

His thoughts stumbled as silence filled the air. Slowly, the haze of planning gave way to irritation. He started standing up, eyes narrowing, and turned to look over the bar, preparing to repeat the question—this time with a sharper edge.

"Kurogiri, I asked yo—"

Nothing.

The bar was silent. Empty. Not a single soul in sight.

Kurogiri was gone.

Strange. He hadn't heard a portal open.

Now that he thought about it… had he heard one when Kurogiri arrived?

Had he ever entered the bar at all?

Shigaraki froze, the vodka bottle still at his feet.

Was he ever here?

Had he imagined the whole conversation?

He glanced down at the bottle on the floor and shook his head slowly.

Maybe he'd just had too much to drink. Yeah… that had to be it.

He picked up the vodka bottle, sealed it, and set it on the bar. Then he turned and began walking toward his room. He'd call it a night. After everything, he felt strangely tired… and warm.

Warm?

He paused.

Come to think of it, the bar didn't feel cold anymore.

Whatever.

He knew what he had to do now.

The Green Lantern had gotten in the way—robbed him of his chance to kill All Might. If he wanted to show the world how dangerous he truly was, he couldn't just take down one of them. He had to take down both.

Only then would society see how weak they really were. How pathetic they'd become when there was no hero left to save them.

They may have won the first round… but he'd be back. And next time, that stupid ring wouldn't save anyone.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

In his lab beneath Jaku General Hospital, Dr. Kyudai Garaki poured over his research notes, meticulously cross-checking data and monitoring the vitals of his most promising test subject yet.

This was the man who had willingly offered up his body in pursuit of a greater purpose—one that aligned perfectly with Garaki's and All for One's purposes for Shigaraki.

His name was Nine, true name unknown.

He had come to them willingly, offering himself in exchange for a cure to his cellular degradation. For a chance to gain the power he needed to make his dream a reality—the dream of a Darwinist superhuman society.

A pipe dream. Every bit of it.

Only one man's dream would come true, and it certainly wasn't Nine's.

Still, he served their purposes well. He was the ideal test subject, perfectly suited for the next phase of their work: determining how to implant the All For One quirk into Shigaraki when the time came. For his cooperation, he would be given a lesser version of the quirk to use as he pleased.

It wasn't that Garaki couldn't cure his cellular degradation. He could, easily. But allowing him to grow too powerful would be a mistake.

The degradation was a perfect handicap. All Garaki had to do was make a few subtle adjustments. Just enough to ensure that the more Nine used his quirks, the faster his body would break down. It was an elegant solution, a flaw engineered to look like natural failure.

No matter how strong he became, he would never be a threat for long.

Still, even if Nine somehow found a way to cure his cellular degradation, it wouldn't matter. Shigaraki's power—and more importantly, his will—would always surpass his. Garaki would make certain of that. No matter the circumstances, Nine would never be allowed to surpass him.

The procedure to implant the All For One quirk was still in development, but it was fascinating work. Nine's body wasn't ready to receive the quirk just yet, though progress was steady. The data Garaki had collected so far would be pivotal when the time came to bestow the quirk upon Shigaraki.

Perhaps even more important than the data gathered from the Instant Villains, the Next-Level Villains, or the Nomu experiments. And that was saying something.

For now, he would continue reviewing and rechecking Nine's vitals and data, ensuring everything was perfectly aligned for the day Shigaraki was ready to receive the quirk. There could be no mistakes—no missteps—when it came time for the procedure. Until then, Nine would remain in his containment chamber, suspended in the thick purple fluid.

Garaki stood from his chair and stretched slightly, his joints popping from hours of stillness. He decided to leave the testing chamber and return to his main lab. There would be more data to review tomorrow—more time to fine-tune the process.

As he walked through the sterile corridors of his underground lab, his thoughts drifted to their previous major test subjects: Hood and Number 6. Their real names had been lost or discarded, known now only by the designations assigned to them by Garaki and All For One.

Hood was one of their earliest and most brutal test subjects.

After decades spent refining quirk duplication and learning how to manipulate quirks and quirk factors for their own purposes, Garaki was finally ready to put that research into action. The success they had with Oboro Shirakumo's corpse, which had been repurposed into Kurogiri with the Warp Gate quirk, had proven that the process worked. However, Kurogiri had been built for support and mobility. What they needed now was a test subject designed purely for combat.

That subject turned out to be Hood.

He had once been nothing more than a street thug, known for fighting in underground rings. He did not do it for money, only for the thrill. No one knew his real name. He was only recognized by his title, The Hooded Brawler, a name earned from the hoods he always wore and the mystery that surrounded him.

Over fifteen years, he built a reputation for his brutal fighting style, infamous for crippling or even killing opponents in the ring. Rumors surrounded him constantly. No one could say for certain what his quirk was, but it had to be powerful. How else could he keep winning?

Eventually, his streak of victories came to an end when he faced a fight he simply could not win, no matter what he did. The match had been rigged by certain individuals who devised a scheme: they would bet everything they had on The Hooded Brawler's opponent. Since the majority of bets were always placed on The Hooded Brawler due to his perfect record, the odds would swing to thirty-to-one. If his opponent won, those few who bet against him would walk away with a massive payout.

To ensure their plan succeeded, they gave his opponent quirk enhancements such as Trigger and hired elite trainers to push his abilities to new heights. The outcome was inevitable.

The Hooded Brawler's time in the underground ring came to a violent close. He suffered devastating injuries in the fight, ultimately becoming paralyzed from the waist down.

After that final fight, he sought out All for One. Broken and desperate, he was looking for a way to fix his ruined body and continue fighting. He offered himself freely, pledging to submit to whatever experiments they wanted. If they restored him, he would devote himself entirely to All for One, pledging his loyalty and obedience in return. He would do whatever they asked of him.

It was an opportunity too valuable to ignore.

Pawns controlled by fear were common. True loyalty, however, was a rarity in the society All Might had helped shape. This man offered it willingly, all in exchange for the promise of power.

When All for One handed him over to Dr. Garaki, he was given the designation Hood. Garaki immediately began his experiments.

As it turned out, the truth behind his mysterious quirk was even more surprising—he had none. The man had been born quirkless. That fact alone explained why he had never appeared on All for One's radar before. There had been nothing of value to take.

Until now.

Somehow, his sheer bloodlust and relentless drive to fight had allowed him to overpower opponents who possessed far greater abilities. He was a crafty, ruthless brawler who knew how to catch his enemies off guard. He had no qualms about exploiting hesitation or striking when they were most vulnerable. Through grit, cunning, and sheer brutality, he defied the existing power structure and carved out a place for himself in the world.

Those were the very traits All for One saw as valuable.

They weren't just building another weapon. They were shaping one of their most useful pawns—someone who could, in time, rival even Gigantomachia in both strength and loyalty. Hood would serve as a framework, a prototype for the next generation of experimental soldiers.

Gigantomachia had been the inspiration.

Hood would be the execution.

Despite their ambitions, they encountered several roadblocks while modifying Hood. Restoring him to his prime—and even pushing him beyond it—was relatively easy. The real challenge came in how the new abilities meshed with his body.

They had faced similar problems in the past. When All for One granted other pawns additional quirks, the results were often unstable. The body or mind would reject the changes, leading to erratic behavior, breakdowns, or premature failure. Altering a body to handle such immense power without consequence proved far more complex than expected.

In Hood's case, the results were mixed. He displayed immense power in short bursts, but the longer a fight dragged on, the faster his performance degraded. His enhanced body simply couldn't sustain the output for long periods.

Despite having a clear vision for what they wanted him to become, they began to doubt what the final product would look like. His limits made them question whether he and others could ever serve the role they had envisioned.

That changed with the experiments on the Instant Villains and Number 6.

Number 6, like Hood, had no name and no quirk. In fact, he had nothing—no memories, no identity, and no ambition. He was just a nameless, quirkless orphan who drifted into one of Garaki's orphanages. His lack of identity initially made him extremely valuable for experimentation.

All for One was searching for a new vessel—someone whose body could handle the increasingly complex quirks that his own aging form could no longer support. On paper, Number 6's body was a perfect candidate. With no past, no attachments, and no inner sense of self, it would have been easy to allow All for One's vestige to fully take control of him. A seamless transfer. A clean slate.

That is, if that had been the only requirement for a vessel.

All for One needed more than just physical compatibility. The vessel had to possess a strong emotional core to be capable of taking One for All, a quirk deeply tied to will, heart, and memory. Number 6 lacked those things. His emptiness made him unsuitable for the main plan.

Garaki quickly deemed him useless. Without a sense of identity, there was no foundation to build on, no personality to mold, no potential to groom into a worthy successor. But All for One saw something different. That same emptiness could be exploited for another purpose—to shape Number 6 into whatever they needed him to be. A pawn without boundaries.

And so, they began to rebuild and redefine him.

Using a series of surgical enhancements and experimental modifications, they gave Number 6 new potential. Chief among these enhancements were the newly developed Bomber Cells, which amplified his abilities far beyond anything he had before.

They also gave him something unexpected—the ability to choose who he wanted to become.

And he made his choice.

He fixated on the hero O'Clock, also known as Iwao Oguro, and the quirk Overclock. Both the man and the ability fascinated him. So, after acquiring the Overclock quirk from Oguro, they implanted it into Number 6 and sent him out into the world, accompanied by Queen Bee—a rare animal that had somehow manifested a quirk of its own.

Together, they were tasked with conducting live experiments, using Trigger as the catalyst. The data they collected during the Instant Villain incidents and the Next-Level Villain operations became crucial for improving the Nomu project, especially in refining the design and function of Hood.

In the end, Number 6 exceeded all expectations.

He not only carried out his missions flawlessly but also elevated himself to new heights through the use of Bomber Cells, reaching levels of power that even All for One and Dr. Garaki hadn't anticipated.

It was a shame, then, that he died in his final battle against Koichi Haimawari, the vigilante known as The Crawler. He could have become a far more valuable pawn than they had initially imagined.

But with Number 6's sacrifice and the data he helped provide, they were finally able to move forward with enhancing Hood and others like him. The result was something more than just Nomu—something far more refined.

The High-Ends.

Unlike standard Nomu, these creations retained intelligence and higher brain function, making them vastly more efficient in combat. Combined with Super Regeneration and a diverse range of powerful quirks, they became some of the most formidable followers All for One had ever produced.

However, creating them was no small feat. Each one required a lengthy stabilization period—three full months—before they could even be considered for deployment. And even then, the current generation of High-Ends wasn't quite ready.

Although the modifications developed through Hood's transformation had been improved and applied to the others, they were still flawed. After roughly ten hours of stabilization after exiting their tanks, through extended activity and field deployment, performance began to decline. While they could fight for extended periods initially once at full power, the longer the battle dragged on, the more noticeable the degradation became.

Their regeneration slowed. Their quirks became inconsistent. Worst of all, their minds started to fall out of sync with their bodies, leading to confusion, instability, and ultimately collapse. If not retrieved quickly after reaching this point, they became vulnerable to death.

It would take several more months of refinement before these issues could be resolved—before the High-Ends could fight indefinitely, as All for One intended.

The current generation of High-Ends numbered twelve in total. Ten had fully stabilized, while the remaining two required one more month to complete their stabilization period.

Some, like Hood, had come to them willingly. Others had been captured—one such case was Robot, a brutal enforcer with a mind like a machine. Regardless of how they were acquired, they all shared one thing in common: violence. Murderers, terrorists, pit fighters—each one was the worst of the worst. Bloodthirsty, unrepentant, and perfect for the transformation into something monstrous.

And they were only part of the greater whole.

Combined with the many lesser Nomu created through the data retrieved by Number 6, they would form a terrifying army. One capable of standing against any enemy foolish enough to challenge All for One.

An army of powerful, near-unkillable monsters.

An army fit for a Demon Lord.

When the time came, they would serve him well.

He arrived at his central workstation, located at the far end of the High-End containment chambers. The Nomu floated silently in their tanks, suspended in thick purple fluid, their monstrous forms barely shifting as he passed them.

Reaching the mainframe terminal, he sat down and typed in his password. This system was the beating heart of his entire operation—nearly all of his research, facility controls, and monitoring systems across multiple locations ran through it. It was connected to a network of laboratories scattered throughout Asia, giving him remote access to his confidential data wherever his duties, including those under his alternate identity of Daruma Ujiko, might take him.

Each facility had its own layers of defense—access denial systems, biometric scans, failsafe shutdowns. In the event of a breach, the system allowed him to sever the compromised location from the mainframe entirely and wipe all sensitive data without hesitation.

The downside of this interconnected system was that all linked computers and servers shared the same password. To compensate, he had fortified each terminal with additional layers of encryption and protection, making unauthorized access near-impossible.

With hacking the system being near-impossible, the only viable way to gain access was through his password: 0n3_V1s10n_1Emp1r3!_AF0@.

One Vision, One Empire. All for All for One.

Good luck to anyone trying to guess that before the system locked them out permanently.

And of course, even if the central mainframe were destroyed, it wouldn't matter. Being linked to every other facility in his network meant that, as long as even one remained intact, the full contents of the mainframe would be transferred and preserved. If Jaku General Hospital was ever compromised, the data would live on—untouched, inaccessible, and safe.

After uploading the latest data retrieved from Nine's testing chamber, Garaki turned his attention to the video footage recorded during the USJ attack. The footage came from a network of hidden cameras he had designed and were installed by Kurogiri just before the assault began—at All for One's specific request.

He had insisted the cameras be placed in key areas, just in case the individual known as the Green Lantern made an appearance.

That foresight had paid off.

The recordings had captured the Lantern's confrontation with several villains, along with his encounter with the Nomu. They even recorded his fight with Shigaraki—though "fight" might have been too generous a word for what transpired between them.

There hadn't been one.

And that was the most concerning part of the footage.

The Green Lantern had effortlessly overwhelmed every opponent in his path. Even the Nomu—meticulously engineered to match All Might's raw strength—had been reduced to little more than an afterthought once the Green Lantern set his sights on him.

They had known he was powerful. But not like this.

His strength might even surpass All Might and All for One at their peaks.

That alone was a chilling thought.

Another hero capable of standing on equal footing with them. Another force, like One for All, that could upset the balance they had worked so long to control.

It didn't bode well. Not for the plan. Not for the future.

They couldn't afford another All Might.

Not after everything the original had done to All for One—tearing apart his criminal empire piece by piece, toppling decades of carefully built influence, and nearly killing him during their final, brutal confrontation.

Once had been nearly catastrophic, and they barely survived it.

A second time could destroy everything.

He still remembered what All Might had done to All for One during their final confrontation.

Garaki had not seen the battle firsthand. He had only arrived after it was over, summoned urgently by Chiyo. She offered no explanation, only that he needed to come at once.

By that time, all communication with All for One had gone silent.

The last thing he heard was that All Might and his allies had discovered his location. After that, nothing. Not a word. Not a signal. Just silence.

Chiyo, known to the world as Recovery Girl, had once been an old colleague of his. They had worked together during the early years of his new cover identity as Daruma Ujiko. She had unknowingly been instrumental in helping him acquire subjects for his experiments, whether to harvest their quirks or repurpose them for the Nomu program.

She had been especially useful in helping him secure orphans. Through her connections, she helped fill his orphanages with children who, from his perspective, could serve a greater purpose.

Of course, she had no idea what he was truly doing.

To her, he was simply a trusted medical colleague. A kind man who helped relocate orphans and children abandoned or given up by single mothers, placing them in what she believed were proper homes. He also assisted with more complex medical cases that required expertise beyond her capabilities. Or, at least, what she believed was beyond her capabilities. With her quirk, they rarely ever were.

He had assumed it would take time to locate All for One's body. If he had not made contact by then, Garaki figured he must have been defeated by All Might. But Chiyo made things much easier. Once he arrived at the hospital, she personally led him to where All for One was being kept.

The entire facility had been cleared out. Aside from a few pro heroes still on site, only two people of importance remained. One was a patient. The other—a corpse.

And the corpse was exactly what he had come for.

Relocating All for One's body back to his lab beneath Jaku General Hospital had been surprisingly simple. Garaki forged the autopsy results, had Kurogiri teleport the body, and replaced it with another that matched All for One's build and complexion. His face had been obliterated beyond recognition, which made the deception easier. Any nameless street thug with a similar physique would do.

Once the replacement was in their hands, Garaki let Hood handle the rest—making sure the body had the same wounds, same damage, same scars. A convincing replica. When the swap was complete, no one suspected a thing.

Not even Chiyo.

That had been the easy part. Rebuilding All for One's body proved far more difficult than Garaki had ever anticipated. His brain had sustained massive trauma, his face and sensory organs were obliterated, and his collection of quirks had been significantly weakened.

One particularly intriguing detail Garaki had uncovered during decades of experimentation was that quirks, much like the cells in a deceased body, also deteriorated after death. However, quirks decayed at a much faster rate. If a body was recovered shortly after death, the quirk would remain intact and viable. But if recovery occurred several hours—or worse, a full day—later, the quirk would have already suffered severe degradation, drastically weakening its effectiveness. Any longer, and the quirk would break down entirely, becoming unusable.

This was exactly what had happened with Oboro Shirakumo's body. By the time it was recovered for the creation of Kurogiri, his Cloud quirk had degraded significantly. In that instance, it had worked in their favor, making it easier to fuse and overwrite the quirk with others to form Warp Gate. But in All for One's case, quirk degradation was nothing but a setback.

And it was a massive setback.

Before his battle with All Might, All for One had possessed thousands of quirks—mutant types, emitter types, transformation types. If it existed, he had likely stolen it during his unnaturally long life. His collection was unmatched, a testament to the empire he had built in the shadows.

But afterward? After death and revival, only a few hundred quirks remained. The rest had deteriorated and broken down during the few days he was clinically dead. And the damage didn't stop there. The catastrophic injuries he had suffered placed new limits on his body. Not only was the number of quirks he could safely contain drastically reduced, but so was the amount of power he could wield at once.

Before, there had been no ceiling—he could hoard as many quirks as he pleased, using them without consequence for much of his life. Now, if he exceeded a few hundred, his body began to falter. The strain would overwhelm him, causing system failures both physical and mental.

And reassembling him into a weakened state was only the beginning of their problems. Even after reviving All for One and restoring his body as much as possible, it still wasn't enough. Slowly but surely, he was dying. His body, even sustained by the advanced life-support systems Garaki had created and the myriad of quirks used to keep him alive, was deteriorating. The damage was simply too severe.

At the current rate, he had only a few more years—at best—before his body failed entirely. The clock was ticking, and Garaki knew it. Shigaraki's body had to be ready before that time came. Ready to receive the quirk. Ready to become the new vessel. Ready to carry on the will of All for One without a single flaw.

And this hero, this Green Lantern, stood in the way of all of it. That made it even more important to figure out how to defeat him before the inevitable confrontation. The footage would help. It would show them exactly what they were up against.

All for One had given Garaki the recording before leaving with Kurogiri back to the hideout the day before. He had already gone through it, removing anything unnecessary and focusing only on the Green Lantern's movements, abilities, and tactics. Garaki had left the system to finish rendering the final version while he worked. Now, it was ready.

He saved the completed file, encrypted it, and sent it to All for One's current hideout for review. Garaki was the scientist, the one who could manipulate genes and quirks and push biology to its limit. But All for One was the strategist. He always had been. He was the one who turned monsters into weapons, and chaos into purpose.

And with their abilities combined, they would find a way to overcome this new threat. They had done it before. And they would do it again.

Deep within his hideout nestled in Japan's countryside, inside a cave hidden in Aokigahara Forest, the infamous "Sea of Trees," known in the West as the "Suicide Forest", All for One sat upon his throne, savoring a perfectly cooked steak. Kurogiri stood nearby, silent and attentive, awaiting his master's next command.

All For One had discovered the cave a few years after Kurogiri's creation. Long before the rise of quirks, it had been known as the Lake Sai Bat Cave — once a modest tourist attraction and designated natural monument in Japan. The cave had drawn visitors for its unique geological features and the colonies of bats that made it their home. However, in the early years of the quirk era, a collapse had sealed off most of the interior. With access cut off and attention diverted to the rapid emergence of superhuman abilities, the site was eventually abandoned and faded from public memory. Now, forgotten by most and reclaimed by nature, it served as the perfect refuge for All For One's secret operations.

It had taken some effort, but with the help of Kurogiri's Warp Gate and a few carefully selected quirks, they managed to clear out a sizable portion of the cave to establish a functional space. A throne had been set in place, along with various pieces of equipment essential to All For One's operations. The original entrance, still buried beneath tons of debris from the old cave-in, remained sealed, ensuring that Warp Gate was the only means of entry or exit. This isolation suited All For One perfectly. Even if someone somehow stumbled upon his presence here, there was a reason he had chosen Aokigahara. With the forest's grim reputation and long history of disappearances, it would be all too easy to disguise an intruder's death as yet another unfortunate suicide. A chilling, but effective way to protect the secrecy of his sanctuary.

That, and he appreciated the forest's grim reputation. There was something satisfying about a place so thoroughly steeped in death and darkness. It suited him. Aokigahara had an aura, a weight to it, and for someone like him, it felt only natural. Where else would a Demon Lord choose to dwell, if not in a place the world already feared?

Besides, it wasn't as if he was the only one to exploit the forest's macabre history. Years before he was even born, some social media influencer had apparently filmed and uploaded a video showing a corpse found among the trees. Pathetic, really — but amusing in its own way. He might have laughed if he'd seen it back then. A missed opportunity, perhaps. Oh well.

Turning his attention back to the succulent meal before him, All For One calmly cut another slice of steak with practiced ease, the knife gliding through the tender meat. He brought the piece to his mouth and tasted it — juicy, perfectly cooked, and seasoned with just the right balance of flavor. Exactly how he liked it.

"Once again, Kurogiri, you never disappoint when it comes to your culinary skills," he said, his tone calm but clearly pleased. "Another fine meal, indeed." With that, he readied his utensils to cut into the next bite.

"Thank you, sir. Will you be needing anything else this evening?" Kurogiri asked, his tone as steady as ever, still standing in his place.

All For One paused for a moment, considering.

"How about some wine?" he said at last, setting down his utensils with a soft clink. "Something to help close out the meal."

"Excellent choice, sir. Which bottle would you like me to retrieve from the bar?" Kurogiri inquired, the swirling mist that made up his form shifting slightly, as if already preparing to open a portal.

"Actually," All For One said, his voice calm and deliberate, "let's open a bottle from my more personal supply. Something with a richer taste, don't you think?"

He extended a hand to his side, fingers relaxed yet expectant, as if awaiting for something to be summoned to his side.

And summoned it was. A low, swirling sound emanated from his outstretched hand as a wooden crate began to emerge from a portal in his palm — small at first, then expanding and warping until it reached its full size.

You see, All For One had anticipated his potential defeat at the hands of All Might, especially once it became clear that nothing else could stop the Symbol of Peace. But on the off chance he managed to triumph, he needed a way to neutralize and contain All Might — permanently — without risking the possibility of him escaping with Yoichi One For All to cause further problems. So, he began developing a strategy, assembling a set of quirks tailored for that very purpose.

The primary quirk was called Toon Space, a unique ability that allowed its user to absorb objects into a pocket dimension accessible only to the quirk's wielder. All For One had stolen it from an international Trigger trafficker who once used it to smuggle illegal goods past airport authorities by concealing them in the quirk's dimensional vortex.

Originally, Toon Space was limited. It could only store non-living objects no larger than a briefcase, with a maximum capacity of five items. Organic matter, especially living beings, was completely off-limits. But that changed once All For One got his hands on it. With modifications from Dr. Garaki and the assistance of several supplemental quirks, the quirk's limitations were vastly expanded. It could now contain up to thirty objects, accommodate items far larger than a briefcase, and, most importantly, store living, organic beings within its dimensional space.

That was the plan, the method he would use to defeat All Might without killing him and destroying Yoichi One For All. First, he'd provoke him, get under his skin, throw him off balance. Then, he would deliver a near-fatal blow. Not enough to kill, but enough to immobilize him completely. And once All Might was on the brink of death, he would seal him away inside the pocket dimension of Toon Space.

Inside that space, time stood still, unless All For One altered its flow using another quirk called Alteration, which allowed him to manipulate the dimension's properties. For All Might, only a fraction of a second would pass between being sealed and being released. But in the real world, years would go by — years All For One would use to shape and prepare Shigaraki, ensuring he was ready to get back Yoichi steal One For All when the moment finally came.

That was the plan. And on paper, it seemed flawless. Until a single, glaring flaw in the quirk revealed itself... and everything unraveled.

In all the tests conducted with the enhanced Toon Space, one critical detail had gone unnoticed — a limitation so subtle it only became clear when it was already too late. The quirk could absorb anything into its pocket dimension, so long as it met the updated criteria: size, number, and organic or inorganic nature. But what they hadn't accounted for was motion. Toon Space couldn't contain anything that wasn't almost completely still.

In hindsight, it should've been obvious. A quirk originally designed to store inanimate objects had no need to account for sudden movement. Those items were lifeless. They couldn't resist or react. But living beings were different. They could flinch, struggle, or strike without warning. Toon Space had never been built to handle that kind of unpredictability. No matter how much it was modified, its foundation was still rooted in what it was always meant to do: store the still and silent.

And so, when All For One believed he had finally won, when All Might lay broken, crippled, and on the verge of death, he began the containment process. It would take several seconds, but that didn't concern him. The other heroes had already been pushed back. There was no one left to stop him.

Until All Might, driven by sheer will, found his second wind and launched himself skyward.

But the moment All Might surged upward, that sudden burst of movement completely disrupted the containment process. The vortex destabilized, flickering out before it could seal. And in a critical misstep, All For One wasted the one second he had reacting to the failure instead of focusing on the man charging at him.

By the time he looked up, that second was gone.

All Might was already there.

The last thing All For One saw before everything went dark was All Might's bloodied, screaming face. And the full force of his fist barreling straight toward his skull.

It connected with a thunderous crack. Pain, sharp and crushing, exploded through his head.

And then — silence.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up — or rather, regaining awareness — sometime later. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He couldn't smell, speak, or move more than the faintest twitch. His body, once a vessel of unimaginable power, felt distant... hollow.

When he finally managed to communicate with Dr. Garaki, the truth came crashing down. Most of his quirks had decayed during the time he was clinically dead, leaving him with only a fraction, perhaps a quarter, of his former strength.

And among the few quirks that remained?

Toon Space.

The very quirk that had failed him at the most critical moment.

In the end, that defeat made one thing painfully clear: Toon Space had little value in actual combat. If it couldn't absorb anything in motion, it was practically useless in a fight. Attacks, by nature, were always moving — fast, forceful, and unpredictable. And using it to eliminate enemies was unreliable unless they were already immobilized. Of course, he had more than enough quirks to restrain an opponent... but if he could do that, he might as well use a more efficient attack to kill them outright.

All in all, Toon Space was a tactical liability. In combat, where every second mattered, there were far more practical and lethal quirks to rely on.

Still, the quirk had its uses, particularly within the confines of his cave. Even though he had hollowed out a considerable portion of it, the space remained somewhat limited. He couldn't keep everything he owned inside it at once without clutter. Toon Space solved that. It allowed him to store away items he didn't immediately need and retrieve them when he did, making the cave far more functional. No mess. No wasted space. Just efficiency.

And when paired with Alteration, which could modify the pocket dimension's properties, like time or temperature, it proved surprisingly effective for more refined purposes.

Like aging wine.

By fine-tuning the dimension's conditions just right, he could set it to the perfect temperature for aging wine and accelerate the flow of time within. The result? A bottle could mature for years in a matter of days or weeks. Quite a convenient trick — especially for someone with a refined taste and a preference for the rare and well-aged.

With a simple thought, he activated his telekinesis quirk, causing the crate of wine to hover gently as it emerged from the dimensional rift. He took care to stabilize it midair, not wanting to risk damaging the contents. Then, with a subtle gesture of his hand, the crate drifted smoothly across the room toward Kurogiri, coming to a stop just in front of him before lowering softly to the ground. It landed with a muted thud, the sound barely echoing through the stillness of the cave.

Kurogiri moved without hesitation. He stepped forward, unfastened the crate's latches, and lifted the lid, setting it neatly to the side. A faint swirl of mist drifted from his form as he glanced back at All For One, awaiting further instruction with his usual composed silence.

All For One paused, considering his options. Perhaps a bottle of Château Margaux. Smooth, elegant, dependable. Or maybe something more extravagant, like a Romanée-Conti, with its reputation for rarity and depth. Then again, if he was after the pinnacle of flavor, a well-aged Pinot Noir might be the wiser choice.

He had to choose carefully. He didn't indulge in his personal collection often, preferring to preserve its rare vintages for only the most fitting occasions.

You see, once quirks became an established part of society, they quickly found their way into nearly every industry. Agriculture was transformed. Plant and weather manipulation quirks made it possible to increase yields, even producing multiple harvests in a single year. The fashion world embraced color manipulation quirks, while metal and heat control quirks revolutionized the automotive and smelting sectors.

And the wine industry was no different.

Modern wines were crafted and refined with the help of quirks. Accelerated fermentation, perfect climate control, even enhanced flavor profiling. It made quality wine easy to produce and widely accessible. But that wasn't what filled All For One's personal collection.

His collection contained wines from the old world — vintages untouched by quirks, cultivated through time, patience, and traditional craftsmanship. These bottles were exceedingly rare in the present day. And while cost was never a concern for him… availability was.

Hence why he rarely drank from this collection — only on special occasions. Or when he simply felt like it.

It wasn't that he disliked modern wines — far from it. Today's vintages were excellent, refined through the precision of quirks. But there was something uniquely appealing about drinking something so rare… so ancient. A relic of a time before quirks, before the world had changed.

There was a certain power in that. And it called to him.

But in the end, he'd made his decision. Considering the rich, hearty nature of his meal, it was only fitting to pair it with something equally full-bodied.

Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

"The Châteauneuf-du-Pape will do, Kurogiri," All For One said, his voice calm and certain. "Open the bottle and hold it out. I'll take care of the rest."

He waited, enjoying his meal, as Kurogiri moved to obey.

"Excellent choice, sir." Kurogiri said with a slight incline of his head. He swiftly retrieved the dark bottle from the crate, handling it with care. A moment later, he extended his hand through a small portal, and when it reemerged, he was holding a corkscrew — ready to proceed without hesitation.

After uncorking the bottle and retrieving a wine glass through another portal, Kurogiri held them both out with a light, steady grip.

All For One, still chewing a bite of his steak, calmly set his knife down. With a simple snap of his fingers, the bottle and glass lifted from Kurogiri's hands and began to float — steady, graceful, untouched by human hands.

Suspended in midair, the wine poured itself into the glass with expert precision, not a drop spilled. The filled glass then drifted into All For One's waiting hand, while the bottle hovered silently at his side, ready to serve when the next pour was needed.

Taking a sip from the glass, All for One let out a satisfied sigh. He then motioned to Kurogiri, who was still standing close by near the crate.

"That will be all for now, Kurogiri. Why don't you go che—"

He was cut off mid-sentence by the sharp ping of a notification from his workstation — a system set up by Dr. Garaki when they had first established this hideout.

Without hesitation, Kurogiri turned and made his way to the console, his footsteps measured and firm as he moved to check the alert.

"It appears the doctor has sent the video from the USJ. Shall I describe it to you, sir?" Kurogiri asked, standing beside the workstation and awaiting All for One's command.

"Yes, Kurogiri. I want you to describe everything you see involving the Green Lantern." All for One said, his interest piqued and curiosity stirred by what was to come.

After the attack, All for One had Kurogiri deliver the raw footage directly to him. He reviewed it briefly before handing it over to Dr. Garaki for editing while they were still at the lab. Once that was done, Kurogiri departed with him back to the cave. All for One had been eagerly awaiting a chance to see what the Green Lantern was capable of.

Unfortunately, while his various sensory quirks allowed him to read basic text on screens—like those on his phone—without using his eyes, viewing moving images remained… difficult. None of his quirks could fully compensate for this limitation, so he relied on Kurogiri to describe videos to him. It was far easier than trying to decipher them on his own.

Thankfully, his ability to decipher sound with his quirks was unaffected, so all he needed was a verbal explanation when the visuals mattered.

All For One heard the video start as he took another sip from his wine glass. Hopefully, Dr. Garaki had cut out all the unnecessary parts and focused solely on what the Green Lantern was capable of. Everything they observed was crucial to understanding as much as possible about him. How he fought, thought, moved, spoke. Everything.

He heard the sounds of fighting and splashing water, just before Kurogiri spoke.

"He appears to be rescuing two students from the Flood Zone. He manifested a giant construct and slammed it into the water, creating a massive tidal wave that pushed back the villains in that area. He then threw the remaining ones still standing aside before leaving with the two students."

Listening further, All For One heard the footage shift to another scene. This time, he caught the sound of disks being thrown, followed by what resembled some kind of ray or laser firing, then a short cry from a girl, likely struck by the attack. Kurogiri quickly confirmed this:

"A young girl wearing some sort of yellow armor and black spandex was just hit by one of the villains. If I'm correct, the Green Lantern should be appearing in about—"

Kurogiri was abruptly cut off by the sound of a crash in the video, immediately followed by screaming and multiple explosions. Then, a low, sustained blowing sound filtered through the audio—possibly wind or displaced air. Moments later, a voice began to speak. All For One narrowed his focus, analyzing every word with careful attention.

"You alright?" A male voice asked—presumably the Green Lantern.

"I'm hanging in there. This took most of the damage." A young woman responded. One of his students, perhaps. He made a mental note to investigate further.

"Huh… when did you dye your hair?"

"What?"

A brief pause followed before the male voice spoke again:

"Look, let's deal with that later. Right now, we need to get you to safety."

He then heard the sound of something forming, likely a construct, followed by the distinct rush of flight. The Green Lantern was evacuating the girl.

To the average observer, that brief exchange might have seemed inconsequential. But to him, it spoke volumes. The concern in his voice, the urgency with which he took her away. It was clear he cared for her. Likely he had the same care for the rest of his students.

All For One filed that detail away. It could prove very useful when the time came to deal with him.

So far, nothing he had heard was particularly significant. At least, not yet. But the descriptions of the Green Lantern's abilities, the way he fought and shaped his constructs, stirred a faint sense of nostalgia.

He had seen something like this before. A long time ago.

He suspected there might be a connection, but he couldn't confirm it. Not yet.

Still, if he kept listening…

"I've heard enough of this. Skip to the first encounter with the Nomu and Shigaraki." All For One ordered.

Kurogiri gave a silent nod and advanced the footage, stopping at the moment Shigaraki launched his initial attack on the Green Lantern. Then he pressed play.

All For One listened intently. First came the sound of a portal forming, followed by something passing through it. Then rapid footsteps, quick and deliberate. A moment later, the distinct hum of another construct materializing.

Then a voice shouted:

"What?! Why isn't this turning to dust?!"

Shigaraki, likely during his failed attempt to decay one of the Green Lantern's constructs.

"So you're the one who disintegrated the gate yesterday."

"Of course I was! Now tell me why this wall isn't dust yet!"

"It's light dumbass, it doesn't rot away."

All For One smiled. Bingo. The constructs were made of light. Not strictly solid matter. That explained why Shigaraki's Decay had no effect.

And that... was something he could work with.

All For One's attention snapped back to the video. The unmistakable clinking of chains forming and wrapping around something echoed through the audio, followed by Shigaraki's desperate yell:

"Nomu! Save me!"

All For One then heard a roar, followed by the heavy impact of a fist smashing into something, and the thunderous crash that came after. Finally—the moment he'd been waiting for: to see what the Green Lantern was truly made of.

He listened closely as a voice, likely All Might, yelled the Green Lantern's name, a name he already knew well. Shigaraki's voice rose as well, but his words were abruptly cut off by another loud crash. Then, All For One heard the chilling words:

"Is that all you've got?"

Interesting. There was intimidation in the boy's voice, laced with just the right amount of arrogance. That tone alone would rattle a lesser man, perhaps even drive him to fear.

But he was no lesser man.

Still, he might have been impressed... if he weren't so thoroughly insulted. Someone like him had no right to make such a claim.

His so-called strength was nothing more than a façade. Like a toupee: presentable on the surface, but ultimately a flimsy cover for something weak and unimpressive beneath.

And that's all the boy truly was, this Izuku Midoriya. Weak and unimpressive without that power. A quirkless human.

Yet somehow, with the power he now wielded, he had managed to captivate the entire world. He had become the focal point of their admiration, their hope. So much so that his lack of a Quirk had become an afterthought, almost forgotten.

And that… was something All For One could not accept.

The boy needed to be reminded of who he really was. Of where he truly belonged.

And he would be.

In due time.

In due time…

Turning his attention back to the recording, All For One let his mind drift through the less relevant portions—All Might listing off the Nomu's Quirks, their brief exchange about not holding back, the combination attack that launched the creature into the air and sent it crashing back down under All Might's fist.

None of that mattered.

He only began listening again when he heard Izuku's voice. The boy had started to speak, and the words that followed caught his attention.

Words he hadn't heard in a very, very long time.

"In brightest day."

All For One's breath hitched—just slightly—at the sound of that phrase.

He hadn't heard it spoken in over a century. Closer to 160 years, if he recalled correctly. Yet the words were unmistakable, etched into memory like a scar that never truly faded.

He almost mouthed the next line unconsciously.

"In blackest night." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Could it really be…?

"In blackest night."

All For One leaned in slightly, the words pulling at long-buried memories.

"No evil shall escape my sight," he whispered, just ahead of the boy's voice.

"No evil shall escape my sight."

He spoke the next line almost automatically reaching for fragments of a past long sealed away.

"Let those who worship evil's might..." he murmured, the rest eluding him.

"Let those who worship evil's might!"

Word for word.

It was the oath. The exact oath.

But he had never heard the rest of it.

They hadn't finished reciting it. Not before they noticed him watching from the shadows, curious about what they were doing.

Curious about what she was saying.

"He's cheating!" Another voice screamed, likely Shigaraki's.

All For One didn't care. He was only waiting for Midoriya to speak again. To finish the oath he'd never heard completed all those years ago.

"Let those who worship evil's might!"

Only now did it occur to him, Midoriya had been tag-teaming the Nomu with All Might, based on the context of the battle. He would need to ask Kurogiri for the finer details later.

"Beware my power!" The boy shouted, and All For One heard something begin to charge.

"GREEN LANTERN'S LIGHT!"

The words were roared with full force, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of a massive energy discharge. A beam attack, by the sound of it. Sustained, powerful. It lasted several seconds before finally cutting off.

He smiled. He had gotten what he needed. There was no need to hear the rest.

Kurogiri had retrieved all the surveillance equipment scattered throughout the USJ mere seconds after fleeing with Shigaraki—there would be nothing of value left to hear anyway.

"Turn it off. I've heard enough," All For One commanded.

Kurogiri obeyed without a word, closing the video and putting the console into sleep mode before silently returning to All For One's side.

"How was the Nomu destroyed?" All For One asked, his voice calm but inquisitive. "It was difficult to discern the details through sound alone." He was hoping for a clearer picture of what had truly happened.

"The Green Lantern launched it into the air and allowed All Might to strike it midair," Kurogiri began. "He then drove the Nomu into the ground and created a piston-like construct to crush its body. Despite being overwhelmed, the Nomu managed to destroy the construct with brute strength alone."

Kurogiri paused, watching for his master's reaction before continuing.

All For One considered this carefully.

So, the constructs weren't invincible. They could be broken, given enough force and time. But therein lay the problem. The Nomu had been engineered to rival All Might in strength, and it had still been outmatched. If it took that level of power just to damage one of these constructs, the number of viable counters was extremely limited.

The High-Ends were the only other assets capable of such output, and they wouldn't be ready for some time.

So, brute strength wouldn't be the solution.

He would need to get creative.

And that… was exciting.

A challenge like this didn't come often. It stirred something in him—something he hadn't felt in years.

He gestured for Kurogiri to continue.

"He then attempted to slice the Nomu apart with a claw-shaped construct," Kurogiri explained, "but the creature managed to push through the attack and tried to throw Izuku aside. Unfortunately, All Might intercepted the attempt, and the two resumed their assault."

"Despite the Nomu's best efforts, it was eventually overwhelmed and launched into the air, where the Green Lantern unleashed a powerful beam attack. It overpowered the Nomu's regeneration entirely… and destroyed it."

All For One leaned back in his chair, silently reflecting on Kurogiri's report.

An attack like that, powerful enough to completely overwhelm the Nomu's Super Regeneration, did not bode well for the inevitable clash between Midoriya and the next him. Even with all the enhancements Shigaraki was destined to receive, it was unlikely he could withstand such a concentrated blast without sustaining serious injuries.

Injuries that could leave him vulnerable… to capture. Or worse.

Still, despite the deviation from his original plan and the loss of the Nomu, the USJ attack had not been a failure. If nothing else, it had served its purpose.

Now, they knew the scope of the threat they were facing. And with that knowledge came opportunity. An opportunity to plan, to adapt, and ultimately… to counter him.

His mind was already racing with possibilities.

If Midoriya's constructs were truly made of energy, then perhaps an energy absorption Quirk could bypass them entirely. Or maybe light manipulation, or even light absorption, could be the key, considering the constructs were formed from light itself.

There were many angles to explore. And that was the exciting part.

Still, regardless of what the footage had revealed, they weren't ready to confront Midoriya. Not yet.

There were too many unknowns. Did he always fight like this, or did he adapt his strategy to fit the situation? Was he a straightforward brute—or a calculating, strategic thinker? What were the true limits of his constructs? Could they be sustained indefinitely, or did they require a cost he had yet to show?

They needed answers. And to get them, they needed more data.

He would speak with Dr. Garaki about creating the Nomus needed for any future tests.

But until then, Shigaraki needed to grow.

His hatred.

His resolve.

Only when both were truly forged would he be ready—ready to receive his Quirk. And only then would he possess the power necessary to defeat the Green Lantern.

Yet Midoriya wasn't the only threat looming on the horizon.

All Might still lived. And the Number One Hero from America, Star and Stripe, posed a far more complicated challenge. Her power was immense and versatile. Perhaps to an even greater extent than Midoriya's.

He could take on All Might. That wasn't the issue.

But Star and Stripe? She required a different approach.

It would be imperative to eliminate both the Green Lantern and All Might before she entered the field. Or worse, joined forces with them.

Because if she did… victory would become an impossibility.

Even All Might and Midoriya fighting together would pose a near-insurmountable challenge.

If they were allowed to combine their strength, they could overwhelm Shigaraki before he ever had a chance to truly fight.

No, they would need to be taken out separately. Isolated. Forced into battles they couldn't face together.

As for the specifics… he would determine those later.

For now, his priority was clear: preparing Shigaraki for his next major act as a villain.

And he already knew who he needed for that.

Someone who could elevate Shigaraki's image, amplify his notoriety, and attract the kind of followers he would need for what was to come.

The Hero Killer—Stain.

With the ideology he preached and the cult-like admiration he inspired, associating him with Shigaraki could elevate the young villain's reputation exponentially. Stain's message resonated with a certain breed of follower—zealots, not thugs. And that was exactly what Shigaraki needed.

True believers. Not jobbers like the cannon fodder thrown at the USJ.

But first, they had to find him.

Fortunately, All For One had a good idea of where Stain was now. As for who would make contact, Kurogiri was the obvious choice. Given his role in the USJ attack, Stain might recognize him. And, hopefully, not strike on sight.

Once contact was made, they could arrange a meeting. One that would bring the Hero Killer and Shigaraki face-to-face.

And if all went according to plan, a Symbol of Chaos would meet a Symbol of Ideology.

And something far more dangerous would be born. Something that was the perfect blend between Chaos and Ideology.

A Symbol of Fear.

That was what Shigaraki would become when his evolution was complete.

The embodiment of terror, destruction, and hatred.

But more importantly, he would become something greater.

Death incarnate.

The perfect successor.

The next Demon Lord.

The next… me.

Smiling faintly, All For One turned to Kurogiri.

"I see. I suppose it couldn't be helped," he said, his voice smooth and composed. "The footage we recovered gave us a solid foundation to build upon, but there's still much more to uncover."

He paused, the smile lingering.

"The good doctor and I will handle that part. As for you…" his tone sharpened "you have a new assignment that requires your attention."

"What is my next task, Master?" Kurogiri asked, standing patiently, his tone calm and obedient.

All For One smiled slightly, raising his glass.

"Return to the bar and check on Tomura," he said. "Tend to his needs. Make sure he's focused."

He took a slow sip from his glass before continuing, the bottle floating at his side gracefully refilling it with a soft glug.

"Once that's done, you'll begin searching for someone of interest. A key figure for Tomura's future. Someone who, in time, will become… very important for him."

"Who?" Kurogiri asked, a hint of curiosity threading his usually even voice.

All For One's smile widened ever so slightly.

"Tell me, Kurogiri… have you heard of the Hero Killer?" he said, swirling the wine in his glass. "The man responsible for the deaths of seventeen Pro Heroes—and the crippling of twenty-three more?"

Kurogiri remained silent for a moment, processing the implication, before finally speaking.

"What use will he have to the young master? Do you intend to recruit him for our purposes?"

All For One let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"No. I will not recruit him."

He paused, then added with purpose:

"Tomura will."

He turned slightly toward Kurogiri, his tone calm but firm.

"It will be his first major test. An opportunity for growth. A learning experience. And, with any luck, a way to bring in more competent allies than the rabble we used at the USJ."

He took another sip from his glass before continuing.

"But first, we must find the Hero Killer. And that… is where you come in."

"His current whereabouts are difficult to pin down, especially after he went dark following his latest Hero hunt," All For One said, swirling the wine in his glass before taking another slow sip.

"However, according to recent rumors, he's believed to be somewhere in Tokyo."

He turned fully to Kurogiri now, his tone absolute.

"Search the city—top to bottom. Find him. Convince him to meet with Tomura, so the boy can offer him a place by his side."

Another pause. A thoughtful swirl of wine.

"And be sure to inform Tomura of the plan before you leave. This will be his first step toward becoming what he's meant to be."

"Yes, sir. I will see to it at once," Kurogiri replied, bowing slightly as he prepared to open a portal.

But before he could, All For One raised a hand.

"Three more things before you go." he said smoothly.

With a casual motion, he extended his hand and used Toon Space, causing a familiar distortion to swirl into existence. From the pocket dimension, two objects slowly emerged: one, a vintage record player with a gramophone, its dented wood gleaming under the low light; the other, a small box containing a collection of classical records. Songs from a time before the Quirk Era.

Music from a world long lost.

Both objects hovered briefly in the air before settling gently onto the ground. The record player came to rest atop an elevated rock, perfectly placed for ease of access, while the box of records lowered beside it with careful precision.

All For One finished his glass of wine with a quiet sip, then spoke without turning.

"Put on Jo Stafford's 'You Belong to Me'—1952. You know where to find it."

His tone was calm, almost nostalgic, as the bottle beside him floated upward once more to refill his glass.

Kurogiri obeyed without hesitation, gliding over to the box. He opened it with care and sifted through its contents, his movements precise. Within moments, he pulled out the chosen record from its protective sleeve.

The vinyl was centuries old—yet flawlessly preserved.

All For One had spared no expense acquiring the finest preservation technology available. Each sleeve was specially designed to keep out dust, dirt, and moisture, while the box itself sealed airtight, maintaining an optimal internal environment for the fragile discs.

The record player, however, told a different story.

Unlike the pristine collection it accompanied, the player bore the marks of age and use. Faint chips and scratches marred its surface, and dents curled along the edge of the battered gramophone horn. It was a relic—worn, imperfect, and ancient.

He could have replaced it decades ago.

But he didn't.

This one… was special. A gift from a bygone era. A piece of his past that carried meaning.

Besides, it wasn't so easy to find record players like this anymore. 

"It's been a while since you last played this one, sir," Kurogiri remarked as he carefully placed the record onto the turntable and adjusted the needle. "Feeling nostalgic?"

All For One's smile was faint, almost imperceptible.

"You could say that," he replied, his voice distant. "Our current predicament stirred up some… old memories."

He raised his glass and finished the last of its contents before going for another refill, only to find the bottle floating beside him now empty.

He frowned slightly, more in mild surprise than disappointment.

Seems he's been drinking more than he thought.

Not that it mattered. He couldn't get drunk. Not with the quirks he possessed. His body filtered toxins too efficiently. The ritual of drinking was just that—a ritual.

Kurogiri finished adjusting the record player and turned back to All For One.

"What else would you have me do before the music begins, Master?" he asked.

All For One set his glass down with deliberate care. The empty wine bottle floated from his side and settled gently onto the nearby table.

"Pack up the wine box and prepare it for return to my pocket dimension," he said, his tone calm but purposeful. "As for the third matter… it's a question."

Kurogiri swiftly picked up the empty bottle, sealed it with practiced efficiency, and opened a small portal to teleport it away. He then closed the lid of the wine box, ensuring everything was secure before turning back to All For One, silently awaiting the question.

All For One leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued—his tone curious, almost eager.

"The Green Lantern… does he wear a symbol on his chest?" he asked.

"A green lantern, encircled in white?"

He watched Kurogiri closely, awaiting his answer with more intensity than usual.

"Yes, sir. It was on his chest—dead center," Kurogiri confirmed.

Then, after a brief pause, he tilted his head slightly.

"Is there a reason you need to know that?"

All For One smiled slow, satisfied.

"No reason, Kurogiri. You may go now."

Kurogiri gave a respectful nod, saying nothing more. With a low hum, he summoned a large portal with Warp Gate, the swirling void opening before him. Before stepping through, he reached over to the record player, gently lowered the needle onto the vinyl, and activated the mechanism.

As the first soft crackles of the record played, he vanished through the portal, leaving All For One alone in the cavernous dark.

Then, the music began.

The smooth, haunting vocals of Jo Stafford soon filled the cave, echoing softly against the cold stone.

A voice from a bygone era, whispering of distant shores and promises made beneath starlight.

"See the pyramids along the Nile

Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle

Just remember, darling, all the while

You belong to me"

All For One leaned back in his seat, letting the haunting lyrics drift over him, echoing through the cavern like the ghosts of a forgotten time.

He remembered the first time he heard this song.

He and Yoichi had been scavenging a nearby junkyard, searching for anything they could salvage to use as shelter. That was when they found it: a battered, broken record player, half-buried beneath rusted scrap and old machines.

The same one playing now.

It hadn't worked, not at first. But then she came to visit. Just once, during that long month.

And with a quiet smile, and the glow of her ring, she fixed it. Effortlessly. As if it were the easiest thing in the world.

The same ring… that Midoriya wears now.

And like Midoriya, she had worn the same symbol on her chest. The unmistakable emblem of the Green Lantern.

The only difference?

She had also worn it on her face.

Specifically, over her eye. Like a luminous monocle embedded into her skin.

He wouldn't have remembered that detail if not for Dr. Garaki's offhand comment about Midoriya's mask design. It had jogged something in his memory. Something he hadn't thought about in decades.

After repairing the player, she'd conjured a record disc, crafted from nothing but green light, and gently placed it on the turntable.

This song had begun to play.

She told them she'd heard about it years ago from a friend. A big guy, as she described him, someone she called an "affectionate gruff uncle."

Apparently, he had a strange habit of calling people 'Poozers.'

From what she shared, he once had a close friend. Someone who'd died a long time ago. A fighter pilot, if he recalled correctly. He said he used to listen to songs like this all the time.

All For One never got the full story… but even then, he could tell that whoever this pilot had been, he mattered.

"See the marketplace in old Algiers

Send me photographs and souvenirs

Just remember when a dream appears

You belong to me"

He remembered listening to that song, and many others, after asking her what kind of music it was.

While the melodies played through the old record player, she sat with them and told stories.

Stories of heroes and villains from the stars.

Tales of cosmic battles, shining stars, distant galaxies… and how, no matter the threat, there was always a hero to rise and stop the darkness.

Some of those names still lingered in his memory.

The heroes—Abin Sur, Kyle Rayner, John Stewart—beacons of willpower and courage.

Yoichi had loved those stories. He would sit in rapt attention, eyes wide, asking question after question every time she spoke of them. He had believed in their ideals. In their strength. In their light.

But he had never been drawn to the heroes.

No, it was the villains that captivated him.

The terrifying, towering force of the Anti-Monitor.

The cold, calculating rise of Aya, the Queen of the Manhunters.

The rage and fury of Atrocitus, burning through the void.

Those were the names that fascinated him most. The names that etched themselves into his memory. The ones who defied the light.

And all throughout her storytelling, she would use her ring to create glowing green avatars of the characters—illuminated figures acting out battles across the stars.

She showed them how the heroes fought, how their constructs clashed, how their light pushed back against the darkness. Brilliant lights danced across the junkyard, weaving scenes of cosmic war in vibrant green.

To the children they were back then, it was mesmerizing.

Even he had to admit—reluctantly, silently—that he enjoyed the shows she gave. The spectacle. The scale. The drama.

But he had never believed the stories.

They were far too outlandish, even for children. Exaggerated tales with impossible details, larger-than-life threats and equally implausible saviors.

No, he had always believed she was just trying to give them hope in a world where there was little to begin with. Trying to shape Yoichi into something'better.' Better than the majority of people from that time.

And trying to mold him into something he was never meant to be.

"I'll be so alone without you

Maybe you'll be lonesome too, and blue

Fly the ocean in a silver plane

See the jungle when it's wet with rain

Just remember till you're home again

You belong to me"

But now, he had to ask himself:

How much of her stories had truly been exaggerated?

Were they fanciful tales twisted for a child's mind… or simplified fragments of real events, altered to be easier to understand?

That had to be it.

She had never mentioned Lanterns or Corps. Never spoke of the source of their power. Only of the heroes themselves, and the battles they fought.

Always the legends. Never the mechanics.

If there was truth buried in those stories… then perhaps they held more value than he'd once believed. And if they did, then perhaps…

Perhaps they held weaknesses, too.

He would need to recall every detail. Every tale she had told.

Not for sentiment. Not for nostalgia.

But to dissect them.

To analyze them.

To weaponize them.

If Midoriya's power came from the same source, from the same source she once drew upon, then there had to be something. Some flaw. Some blind spot. Some limit.

There always was.

"I'll be so alone without you

Maybe you'll be lonesome too, and blue"

But if his memory served him right, there was one critical weakness he could exploit that he saw from her in the past.

He had seen it for himself. The day they first met.

He'd watched from the shadows as she battled a large group of villains, carving through them with elegant precision and radiant will.

And then, it happened.

Her focus slipped—just for a moment. A strike to the head. A blast of concussive force. And her constructs… wavered. Grew unstable. Dimmed.

Then vanished entirely.

Focus. That was the key.

Her constructs were only as strong as her concentration. Disrupt that—rattle her mind, disorient her body—and her light would flicker out.

If Midoriya shared that same limitation, then the path forward became clearer.

From everything he'd observed so far, the boy relied heavily on his constructs in combat. They were his shield, his sword, his strategy.

Strip him of that, and he'd be forced to fight on unfamiliar terms.

And that was where All For One would hold the advantage.

But the real question wasn't how to disrupt his focus.

It was how to match him—both in power and intellect.

Even if he succeeded in forcing Midoriya onto the defensive, the boy was no fool.

He could be far more intelligent than the average Pro Hero. Analytical. Adaptive.

He could find a way to recover. Exploit a gap, shift tactics, regain control.

And if that failed?

He could rely on brute strength. Overwhelming power.

Force his way through, just as All For One himself would.

Because in that regard… the two of them weren't so different.

Intelligent and powerful.

That's what they both were. And that's what made Midoriya so interesting.

He would be a challenge, one All For One would take pleasure in overcoming.

And when the time came, he would make sure the boy's downfall was not just inevitable but devastating.

Destroyed in the worst way possible.

And that led to the second weakness he had identified—this one not from memory, but from the USJ footage:

His students.

If his interactions with the girl, and the rescue of the other two, revealed anything, it was that he cared for them.

Deeply, perhaps even irrationally.

And that...

That was a weakness All For One would exploit for all it was worth.

All for One smiled at the thought.

Something told him their inevitable confrontation was going to be… delightful.

A game of wits and power.

And when the time came…

Oh, how much fun it would be.

"Fly the ocean in a silver plane

Watch the jungle when it's wet with rain

But remember darling, till you're home again

You belong to me."

As the song drew to a close, All for One listened to its fading notes with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

No matter what the future held, one thing was now certain:

The ring, the very ring he had long wondered about, the one he had believed lost to time was back.

And soon, it would be within his grasp.

After all these years, he would finally be able to study it. To understand its depths. To unlock its true potential.

He scoffed quietly at the thought of the so-called Guardians. They wielded one of the greatest powers the universe had ever seen… and they used it to create an over-glorified police force. How pathetic.

They were never worthy of it.

No, only someone like him, someone who stood above all other mortals, a being of vision, ambition, and will, could hope to draw out the ring's full capabilities.

And oh, what ideas he had for it.

All for One chuckled.

What ideas he had.

And with the ring back in the world, it was only a matter of time before they became reality.