Another one down.
Two to go—the number one and two strongest heroes.
Mewtwo hovered in the air, breathing steady, energy still crackling around his body. He had seen how powerful Endeavor truly was in the real world, and All Might even more so. But here, in this distorted nightmare, they weren't the same. They were weaker—shadows of their real selves. Shadows he could destroy.
So now we're only four, he thought coldly, his gaze shifting between All Might, Endeavor… and the shadow watching them from behind.
Let's try this.
He raised both hands. Energy flared instantly, gathering in his palms until two blinding orbs of purple light formed, humming with raw power. Then, extending his fingers like a pair of guns, he whispered the words that would end the world around him:
"Hyper Beam."
From each fingertip, a concentrated beam of psychic energy erupted, ripping through the air like twin spears of light. The force was catastrophic—walls disintegrated, the floor split apart, and the air turned white-hot.
Endeavor threw up his flames, forming a blazing shield around his body. All Might braced, muscles hardening as he crossed his arms to absorb the blow. The beams struck, engulfing both heroes in a storm of light.
When the glow faded, smoke billowed from their bodies. Endeavor had taken the brunt of it—his arms were charred, burns crawling up his shoulders. Even his breathing was ragged. All Might stood beside him, damaged but still on his feet.
"Impressive," Mewtwo muttered, eyes narrowing. "For copies."
He didn't give them a second.
In one smooth motion, Mewtwo raised a hand above his head, psychic light tracing an arc through the air. Ten Shadow Balls appeared at once, orbiting him like dark moons. With a flick of his wrist, they shot forward, screaming through the air toward All Might.
At the same time, Mewtwo blurred forward—his body vanishing in a flash of purple light—as he closed in on Endeavor. The flame hero tried to gather himself, slower now, struggling after the last attack.
Mewtwo's hands clapped together. Sparks ignited. In a breath, new orbs formed between his fingers—electric, shadowed, and blazing. Thunder Ball. Shadow Ball. Flamethrower. He combined them all, hurling the mix straight at Endeavor.
The first wave of fire met Endeavor's flames head-on, colliding in a burst of heat—but then the others struck. The Shadow Balls and Electro Balls detonated one after another, tearing through the smoke and hammering him relentlessly.
Mewtwo was already moving to flank him when All Might burst back into the fight. The former symbol of peace came in fast, fist raised, the air bending from the force.
Mewtwo turned sharply, raising both hands. His voice cut through the chaos.
"Hyper Beam!"
Twin beams exploded point-blank into All Might's face, the blinding light engulfing him completely. The impact sent the hero flying backward, smashing through the remains of the building and vanishing into the rubble beyond.
At that instant, Endeavor descended from above, his entire body blazing like a meteor. He slammed into Mewtwo's barrier, driving him into the ground with an explosion of light and heat.
The impact cracked the earth—but the barrier held. Mewtwo remained unharmed.
He retaliated immediately. A single Shadow Ball began to form, but this time he poured everything into it. The orb grew massive—five meters wide, swirling with darkness so dense it distorted the air.
Endeavor raised his arms, flames bursting outward to intercept—but before he could release his counter, Mewtwo seized him with full telekinetic force.
Both of Endeavor's arms were wrenched apart.
The Shadow Ball struck him directly.
The explosion was deafening. A surge of dark energy engulfed everything around them, shaking the dream to its core. Even Mewtwo was thrown back, forced to reactivate his barrier midair to shield himself from the blast.
When the smoke cleared, he hovered in silence. The only thing left caught in his telekinetic grip… were two charred hands.
Below, the ground was scorched black. Endeavor's body was a twisted ruin—unrecognizable, torn apart by his own fire. His severed head rested beside All Might's broken form, both half-buried in the rubble.
And from the distance—behind the light, behind the chaos—Mewtwo could see it.
The shadow that ruled this nightmare had flinched.
For the first time, it looked afraid.
Mewtwo had no time to think—All Might was already upon him.
The hero descended like a hammer, his fists raining down in a relentless barrage. He didn't shout, didn't speak—just attacked, blow after blow, each strike cracking the psychic barrier a little more. The sphere around Mewtwo trembled violently as All Might pressed it down, forcing him against the fractured ground.
The air screamed under the pressure. Dust rose in waves. Mewtwo could feel the vibrations through every bone of his body as the Symbol of Peace—this false, corrupted version of him—tried to crush him out of existence.
From the corner of his eye, Mewtwo noticed movement—the shadowed figure behind it all. The real puppet master. Its head twitched erratically as it watched, tilting in quick, unnatural angles. Its body was featureless, pitch black, its surface rippling like liquid ink. It looked nervous… desperate.
Mewtwo didn't waste the thought.
He focused back on the fight, psychic energy surging through him. As All Might's next punch connected with the barrier, Mewtwo lashed back with a sharp Psycho Cut. The blade of psychic light tore upward, forcing All Might to block. Even so, the edge sliced across his forearms, leaving a deep bleeding gash that ran from wrist to elbow.
Seizing the moment, Mewtwo pointed both index fingers forward.
"Hyper Beam."
Twin blasts erupted point-blank, slamming into All Might's chest. The explosion sent the massive hero flying across the ruins in a trail of debris and smoke.
Mewtwo didn't let him breathe.
He pursued immediately, teleporting midair, surrounding himself with dozens of glowing yellow stars—Swift. The projectiles fired in a continuous storm, chasing All Might as he tried to recover. Each one exploded on impact, filling the air with flashes of gold and violet.
But Mewtwo didn't stop there. He mixed Shadow Balls and Thunderbolts into the barrage, chaining his attacks in waves of psychic and elemental fury. All Might blocked as best he could, his fists breaking through the blasts one by one, but even for him—it was too much.
Burns spread across his body, his arms and chest laced with bleeding cuts. One side of his face was scorched black from electricity, the flesh charred to the bone. He still stood, unshaken, his will stubborn as ever… but his body was failing.
Mewtwo's breathing grew heavier, but his focus didn't waver. He doubted the real All Might would have been this easy to bring down—but this wasn't about testing theories. It was survival.
And so, he kept going.
The air rippled as the two locked eyes again—one a legend, the other a nightmare-born god.
Then, with one final roar of defiance, the twisted All Might launched forward, his broken body flashing through the smoke.
A reckless charge. Desperate.
Mewtwo could see it clearly now. If this had been the real All Might—the true Symbol of Peace—he never would've rushed in blindly. He would have stood, smiled, and fought with purpose.
This thing, however…
Was nothing more than a shadow trying to imitate hope.
The kind of attack All Might had just launched—reckless, suicidal—could only be made by someone with nothing left to lose.
Or worse, by something that had never lived at all.
Mewtwo realized it then. This wasn't a hero clinging to hope or duty. This was a hollow imitation, a puppet carved from fear and memory, animated by the will of another. A copy of the real Symbol of Peace, built only to destroy.
And its master was losing control.
The shadow in the distance twitched violently. It moved in circles, pacing like an animal trapped in its own creation. The black coating that clung to its form began to shift, swelling outward, expanding into a thick, oily mist that writhed with a life of its own. Every second, it grew larger, darker—more desperate.
So that's it, Mewtwo thought, watching closely. No one's ever pushed him this far before. He doesn't know how to fight back.
This Quirk—this nightmare—wasn't meant to lose. Inside a dream of its own design, the Symbol of Fear should have been untouchable. Yet now, its dominion was cracking. Mewtwo's mind, sharper and more controlled than any human's, had forced its way into a realm even the villain didn't fully understand.
It's time to end this, he thought coldly. Let's finish the strongest first.
In a flash, he vanished from the air.
All Might barely had time to raise his guard before ten Electro Balls appeared above Mewtwo's head and streaked toward him. The bolts struck dead-on, exploding against his body in bursts of blinding light. Electricity danced across his form, his muscles seizing, his breath catching—but he didn't fall.
Not yet.
Mewtwo's tail—or what was left of it—crackled with psychic voltage. Thunderbolt. The next attack struck like divine judgment, a spear of lightning that slammed into All Might's chest and held him there, burning deep into his flesh. His body lit up with branching scars of light, electric veins crawling up his neck and face.
Still, he refused to drop.
"Even now…" Mewtwo muttered under his breath, "you keep standing."
He floated closer, eyes narrowing. Both hands rose slowly until his fingers hovered just above All Might's head.
"Rest."
Twin Shadow Balls burst from his palms, detonating at point-blank range. When the light cleared, All Might's body hit the ground headless, smoke trailing from his neck as the dream's strongest guardian fell silent.
The battlefield went still.
Only one presence remained—the shadow.
Mewtwo turned toward it, hovering over the ruins. Now that he could focus on it clearly, he analyzed every inch. The being was vaguely humanoid, wrapped in mist that clung like a second skin. Beneath it, faint shapes hinted at clothes—maybe a coat, maybe armor—but everything blended into that oily black fog. No eyes. No mouth. No light. Just movement.
A mutant Quirk? Mewtwo wondered. Or just a disguise—something to keep its identity buried?
Whatever it was, it radiated malice. And even though it had no visible face, Mewtwo could feel it staring.
Then it spoke.
The voice wasn't loud. It wasn't even clear. It crawled through the air, layered, broken—like a dozen whispers overlapping in a single rasping breath.
And for the first time in years, Mewtwo felt a chill crawl down his spine.
"It was… interesting," the voice said—low, metallic, distorted, almost human but not quite. "But now it's time to end this."
The sound made the air crawl. It reminded Mewtwo of something ancient—like the whisper of a wendigo carried through a frozen forest. It wasn't just the tone that unnerved him, but the weight behind it.
Then everything around him began to bend.
The shadow raised its hand, and space itself twisted. The air folded inward like glass under pressure, warping light and sound. Mewtwo's body jerked—caught in an invisible grip—as the world around him started to collapse. The space was compressing, reality folding in on itself, trying to crush him from every direction.
Oh no, you don't.
His muscles locked, but his mind flared. With a roar that echoed in silence, Mewtwo threw his arms wide, unleashing his psychic power at full force.
"The mind," he projected, his voice piercing straight into the creature's consciousness, "is my dominion."
His eyes ignited—twin flames of electric blue—and the aura around him exploded outward, raw psychic energy tearing through the air. The nightmare realm convulsed. Walls bent, ceilings stretched; the floor curled upward like liquid. The two forces collided, their power twisting the dream into something that defied every rule of space and time.
If this had been the real world, it would have been catastrophic.
But here, inside the mind, thought itself was the battlefield.
Mewtwo's psychic storm clashed against the nightmare's dark mist, the two energies grinding against each other, compressing, folding, expanding—fighting for dominance.
And then—he stopped.
Mewtwo exhaled slowly, closed his eyes, and whispered:
"Calm Mind."
The psychic storm focused, narrowed into perfect control. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed a deep, burning violet.
The power shifted.
The crushing weight that had been pressing down on him suddenly reversed. The air rippled outward in a single, thunderous wave. All the pressure—every ounce of psychic force—snapped back toward the shadow.
The creature didn't scream. It didn't even move. It simply folded. The black mist compressed into itself, crushed beneath Mewtwo's mental force until it was nothing but a flicker of darkness collapsing into a single point of light.
And in that instant—
A sharp mark flared on Mewtwo's right arm. The number 20 burned bright for a heartbeat, then faded.
The dream shattered.
He woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, his pulse hammering in his ears. The room was silent again—Emi's house, still and untouched. Morning light filtered through the curtains.
But across the city—
Another person woke at the same moment.
He was alone, sitting upright in a dark room. His body trembled, his breath shallow. Blood dripped from open wounds across his arms and chest, soaking the sheets beneath him.
And though his voice was broken, he still managed to mutter through a twisted grin:
"…he reached me."