At U.A., Principal Nezu sat comfortably behind his impeccably organized desk. A cup of hot tea rested beside him, releasing a gentle aroma, while he held a small piece of cheese between his paws, chewing calmly—a rare moment of peace.
Ring!
The sharp sound of the phone cut through the silence of the office.
Nezu blinked slowly, one ear twitching slightly.
"Hm? Who could that be at this hour?"
He reached a paw toward the receiver, more out of curiosity than urgency. But the instant his eyes fell on the caller ID, his entire body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
"America…?"
He answered.
...
All Might had been escorted to an American military base alongside Star and Stripe. The facility was massive, surrounded by steel structures, slowly rotating radar arrays, and armed soldiers moving with absolute discipline. The air carried a gravity that went far beyond a simple rescue operation.
During the aerial transit, inside the military aircraft, All Might told them everything.
Every detail.
From the very first impact—the invisible pressure that crushed the surroundings—to the final blow that hurled him beyond the clouds, literally tearing him out of Japan.
The silence that followed was heavy.
"A villain… powerful enough to rival All Might…" one of the pilots commented, unable to fully hide the skepticism in his voice, eyes fixed straight ahead. "That sounds… inconceivable."
"There's never been anyone like that—not without multiple Quirks or extreme modifications."
All Might, seated, kept his gaze lowered. His expression was serious in a way rarely seen—there was no smile, no heroic pose. Just the look of someone who had faced something that couldn't simply be crushed with brute force.
He slowly shook his head.
"It's not inconceivable…"
All eyes turned to him.
All Might clenched his fist instinctively, as if he could still feel the impact reverberating through his bones.
"The power behind his blows is unbelievable," he said, taking a deep breath. "Add to that his absurd durability and the speed at which he moves."
All Might lifted his gaze.
"It was like looking into a mirror." He paused briefly before continuing. "He fought using the same method as mine."
The silence inside the aircraft deepened—heavy and uncomfortable.
"He's basically a version of me," All Might stated, his voice firm, yet carrying something that was not pride.
Cathleen, also known as Star and Stripe, crossed her arms before speaking, weighing her words carefully.
"But, master, even so, from what you described, he's still young." She tilted her head slightly. "That means he's inexperienced."
"Perhaps," All Might replied, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again and smiled—the iconic, confident smile the whole world knew. "But don't worry. I already have an idea of how to stop him."
He stood up and placed his hand firmly on Cathleen's shoulder.
"But I don't want you leaving your country just to help me," he said gently, almost paternally. "Remember… I am the Symbol of Peace."
Cathleen took a deep breath and nodded in understanding, visibly moved.
"Now I need to make two calls."
…
Later that same day, the atmosphere within U.A. had noticeably changed.
The sky remained clear, students continued their routines almost normally, but behind the reinforced walls of the administrative building, something heavy was gathering. A kind of silent tension, like the one that precedes great catastrophes.
Nezu had summoned all the heroes who served as teachers at U.A. to the Conference Room.
All Might was absent.
That detail alone was enough to make the atmosphere feel strange.
The long oval table was occupied. Aizawa leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded but alert. Midnight sat with her legs crossed, more restless than usual. Present Mic spoke in a low voice—something rare for him. Cementoss stood with his arms crossed like an unmoving wall. Vlad King, who had come from Shiketsu especially for this extraordinary meeting, was the first to break the silence.
"Principal Nezu, why call us with such urgency?"
Nezu did not answer immediately.
He raised the cup to his lips, took a slow sip of tea, and carefully set it back on the saucer. The small clink of porcelain sounded louder than it should have in the silent room.
Only then did he speak.
"This morning, I received a call from All Might."
Some of the teachers exchanged glances. The initial relief was immediate—at least he was alive.
"In the United States," Nezu added, his tone perfectly controlled. "It seems his battle against the villain known as Slur… ended with his defeat."
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Eyes widened. For a brief moment, no one reacted—as if the collective mind had refused to process the information.
"…What?" Present Mic was the first to blurt out, his voice cracking.
"Are you sure about that, Principal Nezu?!" Midnight half-rose from her chair, disbelief written all over her face. "All Might… lost?"
Everyone in the room had assumed the same thing.
That the night had ended with Slur's defeat, and the silence afterward was merely secrecy enforced by Public Safety.
But now, all of that was crumbling.
"I'm afraid so," Nezu replied, his expression unchanged. "All Might reported everything he knows about the confrontation."
He paused briefly, as if choosing his words—or as if he wanted each syllable to strike harder.
"Slur possesses an attack that launched him from Japan all the way to the United States."
The shock was even greater than before.
"That's… physically impossible…" Cementoss murmured, his voice heavy.
"Apparently, now it is possible…" Aizawa commented grimly. "I assume he described the attack."
Nezu nodded slightly.
"Yes," he continued. "All Might described the attack as something that temporarily neutralized his Quirk. A colossal impact, combined with an overwhelming force that prevented him from reacting."
The word overwhelming lingered in the air.
"Which means two things," Nezu went on, folding his small hands atop the table.
Everyone leaned forward, attentive.
"First…" His eyes swept across every face present. "Slur is still moving freely throughout Japan at this very moment."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"And secondly…" Nezu concluded, without raising his voice. "He removed All Might from the board."
This time, no one tried to speak.
"What could he have done in the span of a single day?" Nezu asked rhetorically.
The small principal rested his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced before his snout, his sharp eyes reflecting something rare: genuine caution. One single day. Twenty-four hours. For most people, that meant nothing. For someone like Slur… it was far too much time.
"We don't know, obviously," Nezu continued, gently turning the still-warm teacup. "However, he proved himself intelligent enough to influence certain people in Japan. Some of them are already debating online as we speak."
The silence that followed was oppressive.
Online debates and doubt.
Those three things, when combined, were more dangerous than any villain wielding brute strength.
Aizawa frowned, eyes half-lidded, showing his mind was already several steps ahead. He leaned his elbow on the table, his hand partially covering his tired face.
"Publicly, he's already known—and by exploiting All Might's impulsiveness, he expanded his influence."
The statement fell like a verdict.
Mic's eyes widened, his hand instinctively going to the back of his neck.
"Why?"
The question came out genuinely. It wasn't ignorance—it was disbelief. After all, All Might had always been the pillar of public trust. The mere fact that he intervened should have shut down any narrative.
But that wasn't how society saw things anymore.
"All Might interrupted his recording," Aizawa replied, his voice steady but weighed down by something uncomfortable. "Beyond the information he presented himself, his display of evidence and valid arguments gave him the light of reason—enough to suppress a large portion of the Hero Public Safety Commission's ability to censor him."
Some of the teachers shifted uneasily in their seats.
Evidence. Valid arguments. The light of reason.
Those words didn't belong with villains.
Nezu nodded slowly in confirmation.
"Indeed," he said. "At this very moment, Slur is being treated as a kind of controversial celebrity."
The word celebrity sounded wrong. Repulsive, even.
"Some hate him. Others defend him," Nezu continued. "And many… simply listen."
"So he has remained in the shadows despite everything," Nezu concluded, his tone lowering. "Which suggests he's plotting something."
Aizawa closed his eyes briefly, letting out a slow breath.
"But there is no concrete information," Nezu finished.
That was the worst part of the meeting.
Vlad King took a deep breath before speaking, crossing his arms as his gaze swept across the faces around the table.
"The villains aren't making any moves. Which means they don't know either."
The statement wasn't optimistic—it was logical. If Slur were truly aligned with major criminal organizations, something would have leaked by now. Some movement. Some coordinated strike. But there was nothing.
Only silence.
"But it's only a matter of time," Snipe said, leaning his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers. His tone was grave, seasoned. "News like this is like a wildfire—it spreads fast, and by the time it's put out, the damage is already immense."
No one disagreed.
Slur's influence wasn't on the streets, but in people's minds. And that made everything far harder to contain.
Nezu remained silent for a few seconds, weighing every word spoken, every tense expression. In his mind, scenarios overlapped like chess pieces in constant motion.
There were too many discrepancies. Too many contradictions. Not enough information.
A novice villain would normally make mistakes—leave traces, show off, seek recognition. But Slur didn't follow that pattern. He used a mask, a voice modulator, carefully chosen camera angles. There was no facial recognition, no vocal signature. Even the location of the broadcast remained a mystery.
Too many blind spots.
"We need information," Nezu finally said, his calm voice contrasting with the weight of his words. "Contact the police force and request as much assistance as possible—documents, access to cameras, records, anything."
He paused briefly, his eyes gleaming with seriousness.
"We need more knowledge in order to know how to deal with this situation."
Without information, there could be no strategy. And without strategy, any move would be a mistake.
Cementoss suddenly raised his hand, breaking the rhythm of the meeting.
"And what about All Might?"
The name echoed through the room.
Nezu turned his gaze to him and, to the surprise of some, smiled faintly—a controlled, calculated, yet reassuring smile.
"Relax. He'll be returning to Japan."
A few teachers exchanged glances.
"In twenty-four hours, he'll be back here."
"How?" Cementoss asked, genuinely confused.
Nezu brought the teacup to his lips before answering, savoring the sip with a calm that felt almost excessive given the situation.
"With the help of an old acquaintance of his."