Tokyo had already begun collapsing into ruin.
Bodies lay scattered across the broken streets, heroes and civilians fallen, some unmoving, others writhing in pain. Smoke drifted through the air, mixing with the sound of distant fires and the closer, sharper cries of those still alive. Calls for help echoed from every direction, overlapping into something almost indistinguishable. There was no order or control anymore.
At the center of it all, Shigaraki stood.
A wild smile stretched across his face as he looked down at his hand, then forward again. He had taken it. One For All. Just like that. Easier than expected. The resistance had crumbled, the heroes had failed, and now there was nothing left to stop them.
Victory.
He could already feel it.
And he wasn't the only one.
The remaining villains felt it. The remaining heroes felt it too, but for them, it came as pure despair.
It spread quietly into their chests as they understood it. They had lost completely. They were the best Japan had to offer at the moment and it was nowhere near enough to stop these villains, even the foreign heroes had fallen as well. It was a completely hopeless situation.
Momo, still seated on the shattered ground, blood staining her clothes, held Dola in trembling hands. Her vision swam as she looked around, taking in the devastation, the fallen, the unstoppable enemies still standing. Her fingers tightened slightly around the small, lifeless bird.
Then a spark of blue light appeared.
Just a few meters away from her.
At first, it was small. Barely noticeable. Then it expanded rapidly, light bent and folded inward, condensing into form, reshaping itself a three-meter being with eight wings.
Silence fell instantly.
It was as if the world itself had paused. The sound vanished. Movement stopped. Even before anyone fully saw it, they felt it. A sense of pure dread filling up every human being present. Their very quirks trembled. Many began to shake involuntarily.
Shigaraki, Spinner and Dabi all froze. The rest of the League of Villains and heroes began to shake, their eyes drawn toward the source without control. Even Twice's endless army stopped moving, the countless copies halting mid-step as if something had severed their will.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
They only looked at the demon.
It stood there, unmoving, its faceless head angled slightly toward Momo. She stared back, her body trembling uncontrollably. The air itself felt heavier near it, suffocating.
Shigaraki was the first to recover.
"Just in time," he said, his voice sharp, forcing itself through the tension. "I wanted to meet you, you damn bastard. You killed my teacher and I…"
He never finished.
Junsei's tail moved out without warning.
It lashed out, extending faster than the eye could follow, a single motion that cut through the air like a line drawn across reality itself. In that instant, it struck all members of the League.
Shigaraki, Dabi, and Spinner were sent flying.
Their bodies disappeared into the distance, smashing through building after building under the sheer force of the impact. The rest of the League of Villains never had that chance. Their bodies were obliterated instantly, reduced to a mist of blood by the overwhelming power of the strike.
Twice died.
And with him, the Sad Man's Parade collapsed.
The countless clones crumbled into clay all at once, their forms breaking apart and dissolving into lifeless matter.
The shockwave followed.
Concrete cracked. Buildings fractured. Glass shattered across the surrounding streets as a violent gust of wind tore through the battlefield, the aftereffect of a single tail movement.
The heroes who were still conscious could only stare. Junsei defeated the League of Villains without sparing them a glance.
Junsei moved toward Momo.
She didn't move. Couldn't move. Her body remained frozen as his tail extended again, this time slow. It reached her hands, carefully lifting Dola from her grasp and drawing the small bird toward him.
Junsei caught her in his hands.
Then closed them.
Tightly.
Light bloomed.
A bright, warm blue that expanded from between his fingers, growing so intense it forced anyone looking to turn away.
Then it stopped.
Junsei opened his hands.
Dola burst upward, alive, wings flapping as she chirped happily. She circled around him once, twice, then descended gently back onto Momo's shoulder as if nothing had happened.
Momo stared.
She knew for a fact Dola was dead moments ago.
And now…
It was alive.
Junsei's tail moved again, the tip of its stinger lowering toward Momo. It touched her lightly. Warm light spread across her body, soft and encompassing. The pain and exhaustion vanished instantly.
As if nothing had happened.
Junsei turned away.
Silently.
His attention shifted behind him.
Three figures stood there once more.
Shigaraki. Dabi. Spinner.
Their bodies were damaged, bleeding in places, but already healing. Their expressions were furious.
"You killed them, you bastard!!" Spinner roared, stepping forward.
Shigaraki's hand shot out and grabbed him.
"Not like this," he said.
Dabi stepped closer, placing a hand on Shigaraki's shoulder. "Time to test the doctor's work."
Shigaraki nodded slowly, his eyes locking onto Junsei. "We prepared something special just for you."
The black masses in their chests began to pulse.
Faster.
Louder.
Their bodies twisted.
Flesh warped and stretched unnaturally as the three of them were pulled together, merging in a grotesque display of forced evolution. Their pained screams were inhuman, it froze those who heard them.
And when it ended, a five-meter monstrosity stood where they had been.
Its body was black and muscular, resembling a Nomu. Its head bore a distorted version of Shigaraki's face, twisted beyond recognition, completely hairless. On its chest, two additional faces were embedded, Dabi and Spinner, locked into the flesh in a horrifying fusion. And all their six eyes were bloody red with no pupils.
It breathed once.
Then spoke.
Three voices overlapped into one.
"We will kill you."
——————
At the edge of Tokyo, far from the battlefield yet close enough to feel its tremors, Dr. Garaki stood atop a building, his gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon. Smoke rose in thick columns where the fight raged, and even from this distance, he could sense the scale of power his creations were unleashing.
When Junsei had survived the nuclear strike and revealed that inhuman form, something fundamental had shifted inside him.
Terror had come first. Then exhilaration.
That creature…no, that existence had redefined everything he thought he understood about power. The ceiling he had spent decades chasing suddenly felt laughably low. All his work, all his research, all his ambition… it had been aimed at the wrong peak. Since that day, Junsei has become the only true benchmark.
The definition of power itself.
And yet, despite witnessing it, despite understanding its significance, Garaki found himself no closer to reaching it. His work had already pushed the human body beyond what should have been possible, and reaching humanity's true limits. He could turn a brat like Shigaraki into someone that could rival All For One, someone that could stand at the level of All Might. Dabi and Spinner had been elevated in similar ways, each molded into something far beyond their original limits.
But Junsei stood apart.
An exception to the human limit.
Garaki's lips curled slightly as he thought about it. It wasn't a failure of his research. It was a failure of humanity itself. Human bodies were inherently flawed, limited in ways that could not be fully overcome. Even when expanded, even when enhanced, their potential remained tied to the base they were built upon.
They were pathetic.
Still, he had chosen his subjects well. Shigaraki, Dabi, and Spinner possessed both the potential and the will to endure his procedures. They had reached a level where they could dominate anyone in the world.
Anyone except Junsei.
That singular exception had haunted him. But why is that?
He had spent countless sleepless nights searching for an answer, turning it over and over in his mind. How had Junsei reached that level? What made him different? Why had his body transformed into that white, inhuman form?
The more Garaki thought, the clearer it became.
Junsei was no longer human.
He had evolved into something else entirely, a new species. Perhaps Junsei himself understood this instinctively. That was why he spoke of "humans" as something separate, something beneath him. Because he was not one of them.
That realization changed everything.
Garaki's thinking shifted with it.
If the goal was perfection, then continuing to work within the framework of human evolution was meaningless. He had to abandon that limitation entirely and approach the problem differently, not as enhancing a human, but as creating something new.
A species.
But how?
The answer came gradually, forming from fragments of observation and inspiration. Junsei, All For One, Overhaul, different powers, different mechanisms, yet all hinting at one truth. Stacking gave power till the body failed while construction raised the upper limit but it was still an empty increase without true power.
So do them both.
If one body could not contain enough power, then he would not rely on one.
He would construct a body from multiple bodies.
Garaki's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked toward the battlefield, where his creation was now unfolding. He had taken his three strongest subjects and pushed each of them to their absolute limits. Their bodies had been enhanced beyond anything he had previously attempted, their quirks refined and amplified.
Then he went further.
A second heart had been implanted into each of them, one infused with the essence of All For One. Around that core, quirks had been stacked carefully, methodically, creating a shared foundation between the three.
Three bodies.
One structure.
All that remained was the final step.
Fusion.
He knew the risks. The loss of individuality. The collapse of the mind. The possibility of complete insanity. But those were acceptable variables. He did not need them to remain themselves.
He only needed them to prove his theory.
To validate his work.
To kill Junsei.
He had told them, of course, that the process could be reversed. That after merging, they could be separated again with time and effort.
A necessary lie.
In truth, he had no idea if such a reversal was even possible. Once combined, they might never return to their original forms. But that was irrelevant. If the experiment succeeded, he could always create more subjects. Better ones.
And if it fails, then he will find a new path forward and eventually, he will succeed.
And naturally, if they succeeded but went crazy or did something he didn't approve of, then he would activate the failsafe.
Deep within the bodies of his creations, hidden beneath layers of enhancement and power, he had planted a kill switch.
Just in case.