Narration POV
The buildup was instantaneous. Arthur's mana surged through Excalibur like liquid fire, the sacred blade drinking in the energy hungrily. For a moment that stretched into eternity, the sword seemed to bring in all the light of creation for this simple action.
A simple swing of the blade.
Then came the release.
The beam of light erupted from Excalibur's edge like the birth of a star.
It wasn't just bright, it was pure.
A column of radiant energy cut through the facility from top to bottom, ceiling to floor.
Every single person in the facility instinctively squinted against the overwhelming radiance, their pupils contracting to pinpricks.
And yet, paradoxically, none could tear their gazes away from the light.
It drew them in like moths to flame, as if their very souls recognized something divine from the light.
Something that demanded reverence.
Something that demanded being witnessed.
The light carved its path without being impeded.
Where it touched, matter ceased to exist.
The idea of obstacles was not even a suggestion to Excalibur's light.
The concrete floor parted like water. The reinforced steel supports of the facility's infrastructure offered no resistance.
The beam traveled in a perfectly straight line, so much so it looked like it had been drawn with a ruler wielded by the hand of God himself.
And in its path stood the nomu.
The artificial being, created through months of careful engineering, designed specifically to be the ultimate weapon against All Might, the Symbol of Peace, it lasted exactly as long as everything else in the light's path.
Less than a heartbeat.
Less than a thought.
Less than a prayer.
The creature's regeneration quirk, its shock absorption, its enhanced strength, none of it mattered.
None of it would ever matter.
It simply wasn't anymore, save for a single arm that had been positioned just outside the beam's trajectory.
The light disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived, leaving behind only the fading afterimage burned into every retina that had witnessed it, to those who had witnessed it could have been described as nothing else but a miracle from God himself.
Except for one.
Shigaraki blinked rapidly, trying to regain his vision.
His mind struggled to process what had just occurred.
Then he felt it.
Pain.
Sharp, immediate, overwhelming pain radiating from his left shoulder.
He looked down quickly and yet it felt like an eternity to the man in question, and as he gazed the reason to why.
His eyes widened.
His entire left arm was gone.
The wound was perfectly smooth, cauterized instantly by the incomprehensible heat of Arthur's attack. There was no blood, no ragged edges of torn flesh. The cut was as clean as could be.
"AGGHHH!!!"
The scream tore from his throat, saliva spilled from his mouth and landing on the hand that covered his face.
In his agony, his eyes swept the area frantically, searching for his trump cards, his guarantees of victory. His gaze fell on what remained of the upper nomu, the one designed to kill the Symbol of Peace.
A single arm from elbow to fingertips.
That was all.
Steam rose from the charcoal-black flesh.
"AGHHHH!!" Shigaraki screamed again, his remaining hand clawing frantically at his neck, drawing blood with his desperate scratching. The pain was beyond anything Sensei had prepared him for, beyond anything his twisted upbringing had conditioned him to endure.
It was as if his soul had been burnt. His acts of evil judged.
And this had been the result.
Through his screams and the haze of agony, he managed to choke out a single word.
"Kurogiri!"
But even as he called for his escape route, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the figure standing above him, were the light had originated from.
Arthur.
No, Shigaraki's mind rebelled against using that name.
The thing standing there, silhouetted against the dying light of destruction, couldn't be human.
Humans couldn't be like that.
Humans didn't move like that.
Humans didn't possess that power.
This had to be something else.
A natural disaster given human form. A force of nature wearing the mask of a boy. What else could explain what he had just witnessed?
It was a thing.
Yes, that was the only word that fit.
A thing with sky-blue eyes, a sword at his hand, and an expression so utterly hollow it made Shigaraki's soul recoil.
And now that thing was looking directly at him.
The creature, he refused to think of it as Arthur anymore, began to walk forward.
Not rushing, not running with that impossible speed that had characterized their entire battle.
Just walking.
Step by step.
Each footstep echoed across the facility. And yet as Shigaraki heard each step his body recoiled.
Desperately, Shigaraki's eyes darted around, searching for the other nomu. There had to be time left on the Trick Room quirk. At least three minutes, maybe more. The thin nomu could still...
His heart sank.
The second nomu, the one designed to kill Arthur while he was slowed, hung impaled against the facility's reinforced wall. Its body was twisted at impossible angles, it wasn't dead, as he could see the super regeneration working to fix it's mangled body.
The thing that had been Arthur continued its approach.
The silence that had fallen over the facility was complete now. Even the distant sounds of the other zones had ceased, as if the entire world was holding its breath in the presence of something that transcended normal understanding.
Except for Shigaraki's ragged breathing and the quiet panic in his voice as he whispered, "Kurogiri, quick, warp us away. Now, NOW!"
"Yes, Shigaraki," came the reply, tinged with something that might have been relief.
Kurogiri's misty form wrapped around the impaled nomu first, teleporting it away from its undignified position. Then the dark portal opened beside Shigaraki, ready to spirit him to safety.
But even as the warp gate began to embrace him, even as escape beckoned, Shigaraki couldn't look away from those blue eyes. Those blue eyes. From that thing. It wouldn't leave his mind.
As the portal closed and the League of Villains vanished from the USJ, Shigaraki knew with absolute certainty that those eyes would haunt him.
In his dreams, in his waking moments, in every moment of his remaining life.
The eyes of the thing that had taken his arm and shattered his certainty that he understood the limits of power in this world.
It's eyes.
Arthur POV
The mana faded from Excalibur's blade.
I...
The word hung in my mind, incomplete. I couldn't finish the thought.
I...
My head hurt.
I....
The repetition was all my mind could manage. A broken record of neurons.
I.... had killed someone.
The realization hit me, finally.
My mind, which moments before had been wrestling with whether I should use Excalibur or not, suddenly went blank.
Not empty, blank.
I couldn't think.
I couldn't hear.
I couldn't feel.
I could only see.
And what I saw was the remaining arm of the nomu, steam still rising from its blackened flesh, lying on the concrete like an accusation made manifest.
Without conscious decision, my legs began to carry me forward. The world around me blurred at the edges, becoming a fog of indistinct colors.
My enhanced senses, didn't seem to work.
Only the arm remained in my gaze.
The fingers, relaxed in death.
The palm, scarred from our battle.
The elbow joint, ending in that perfectly cauterized edge where Excalibur's light had ended its existence.
Step by step, I approached.
Each footfall rattled my thoughts over and over.
What I had done.
What I had become.
The distance closed with agonizing slowness, or perhaps I was simply moving slowly, I couldn't tell.
When I reached the severed limb, I stood over it for a long moment.
Slowly, with movements I had done many times before, with movements I had done whenever I visited the dead.
I inserted Excalibur into the earth beside the arm.
The sacred blade slid into concrete and steel as if they were soft clay, coming to rest with half of the steel inserted into the ground. Immediately, its gentle light began to emanate outward, casting everything in a soft, golden glow.
It would have been calming, if I were able to focus on it that is.
Instead all I felt was myself falling into a pit.
One I had fell into once before.
And just like I had done then, my hand moved on it's own.
I reached down and carefully, reverently, lifted the severed arm.
The flesh was still warm, just like it had been, still retaining that spark of life, the spark of change, the spark of a better tomorrow.
And I had snuffed that light out.
My knees buckled.
I should have felt something at the impact but I didn't.
My entire world had narrowed to the weight in my hands, the proof of what I had become.
The dam burst, just like it had then.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words barely audible even to my enhanced hearing.
The tears came then, hot and relentless.
They fell on the blackened flesh, pooled in the palm of the severed hand, traced silver tracks down my cheeks to disappear into the collar of my armor.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
I repeated them over and over, as if somehow the repetition could undo what had been done, could bring back what I had erased from existence.
My breath came in ragged gasps between the apologies.
My chest felt tight, constricted, it felt like my dragon heart was about to burst. Like my lungs were about to give out.
Yet I knew that wasn't true. Avalon prevented that.
And yet I still hurt.
My head dipped lower, until the back of the severed hand touched my forehead. The contact was gentle, almost tender, just like it had been back then.
"I'm so sorry."
Through my tears and broken breathing, another word escaped.
One that I hadn't consciously intended to say.
One I hadn't even heard.
"I'm so sorry, mom."
Narration POV
The students who had been scattered throughout the facility had found themselves drawn to the flood zone by the light.
Midoriya still in the water, had been the closest to the devastation. He had felt the heat of Excalibur's light wash over him, had seen the perfectly straight line carved into the facility's floor that ended mere millimeters from where he, Tsuyu, and Mineta had been cowering.
The power was terrifying.
And yet it had been controlled to perfection, ensuring that the beam stopped exactly where it needed to, protecting them even while destroying their enemies.
But now, seeing Arthur broken and weeping over the remains of his victim, he couldn't think of that.
Neither could Tsuyu or Mineta. Or anyone else who arrived at the scene.
They all heard his whispered apologies, carried clearly through the unnatural silence that had fallen over the USJ. It repeated the same words over and over.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
None of them moved.
They stood frozen, bearing witness to something private and sacred and terrible.
Even the normally boisterous members of their class remained silent.
Aizawa, bloodied and battered couldn't move from where the nomu had thrown him, but his dark tired eyes landed on the scene just like the rest.
Then, came a familiar voice from the facility's entrance.
"I AM HERE!!!"
All Might had arrived at last.
But his timing, usually so perfect, hadn't been this time.
He was too late, not to save the day, but to save Arthur from having to make the choice that was now tearing him apart.
The Symbol of Peace however didn't know any of it.
And through it all, Arthur continued his stammering of broken apologies.
The last words they heard, everyone heard, were the same ones he had been saying with a simple addition.
"I'm so sorry mom."
A/N: Yeah as you can probably tell Arthur did not like making his choice, it was a choice had had to make, doesn't mean he has to like it. In fact as you can probably tell it's left him and everyone surrounding him in shock.
Solely Nomu 2, Shigaraki and Kurogiri were able to escape and not without losses. Excalibur indulged a bit too much in the evil radiating from Shigaraki lol.
Welp we'll see what happens with Arthur. Next time on Dragon Ball...
Oh wait wrong verse.
Either way. Thx for reading. Send those stones. Author out.