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Story 1 - Chapter 5: MHA - Liberation
🕑 Added 2025-08-23 10:00:16 +0000 UTC<USJ - Central Plaza>
The atmosphere at the Central Plaza was suffocating. Tsuyu and Mineta had managed to drag the badly injured Aizawa-sensei to safety, but that did little to ease the dread crushing everyone’s hearts. The students gathered at the base of the Great Stairs couldn’t tear their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. They had witnessed everything that happened to Midoriya. From the moment they sent Iida running for help, every one of them had watched with bated breath.
At first, what they saw filled them with awe. Midoriya had done the impossible—he’d fought back against the villains, holding his ground against their leaders. Even that terrifying monster with the exposed brain, the one that looked less like a man and more like a weapon, was pushed back by him. Somehow, Midoriya was using his Quirk without breaking his own body in the process. For a short while, it was like watching a miracle.
But miracles didn’t last.
Awe turned into horror the moment his strength faded. Midoriya’s movements slowed, his punches lost power, and then—he couldn’t use his Quirk at all. The realization that he had run out of steam struck all of them at once, and a paralyzing chill spread through the group. They could only watch as the villain with hands covering his body reached out, his touch crumbling everything it grazed, aiming to disintegrate their classmate. Then, in the blink of an eye, that bird-headed monster sent Midoriya flying with such brutal force that no one believed he could survive.
One thought echoed in every mind.
They had no chance against that thing.
The Nomu wasn’t a villain. It was a monster.
Fear gripped them completely when the villains shifted their attention away from Midoriya and toward the stairs. The moment they realized they were next, their bodies stiffened. Not a single one of them believed Iida would make it back with reinforcements in time. Before the teachers could arrive, they would all be dead. Just like Midoriya.
And yet, none of them ran. Every single member of Class 1-A stood their ground. Even knowing how hopeless it was, even understanding they were far too weak, not one of them backed down. They couldn’t. That was the kind of class they were.
Relief came when backup finally appeared. Not their teachers, but three of their strongest classmates. Bakugo Katsuki strode forward with his usual ferocity, explosions crackling in his palms. Beside him was Kirishima Eijiro, his body hardening as he clenched his fists. And at their side stood Todoroki Shoto, expression cold, his mismatched hair fluttering as icy mist began to leak from his skin.
Their arrival shifted the air. For the first time since the villains appeared, the students felt a spark of hope. If anyone in their class could hold the line, it was these three. Even compared to Midoriya, who sometimes pulled off impossible feats, Bakugo, Kirishima, and Todoroki were the ones closest to the strength of a real Pro Hero.
The plaza descended into a tense standoff. The trio engaged the enemy head-on, forcing back the three most dangerous villains through sheer willpower. Bakugo’s blasts kept Shigaraki from closing in. Kirishima intercepted attacks with his hardened body. Todoroki repeatedly froze the Nomu, covering the plaza in glittering sheets of ice. For a moment, it looked like they could actually hold their ground.
But it was only a fragile stalemate.
Everyone could see it—the villains weren’t ordinary thugs. The weaker ones were nothing more than cannon fodder, but these three were something else entirely. One controlled portals, warping space to trap or protect his allies. Another could erase anything he touched, reducing it to dust in an instant. And the last, the Nomu, was a walking disaster with strength rivaling All Might, skin that resisted every attack, and regeneration that made wounds meaningless. Their experience, their sheer killing intent, pressed down like a storm.
Even Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima—the best Class 1-A had to offer—were slowly losing ground. Todoroki’s ice bought precious seconds, freezing the Nomu again and again, but its body broke free each time, moving without hesitation, without pain, without fear. The boy’s breathing grew harsher with every use of his Quirk, and soon his shoulders were trembling, his body shivering from the bitter cold of his own power.
The tide of battle was turning against them.
Bakugo was locked in a fierce struggle against the mist-like villain, Kurogiri. Every time the black fog spread out to swallow them, Bakugo blasted it apart with violent explosions. The constant bursts lit up the plaza with fire and smoke, but it was obvious he couldn’t keep that up forever. Kurogiri’s warp was relentless, twisting space around them, trying to trap the students no matter how many times Bakugo pushed it back.
That left Kirishima with Shigaraki—and it was a terrible matchup from the start. Kirishima’s hardening, reliable against most enemies, was nearly useless here. Shigaraki’s Decay didn’t care about defenses; if those pale fingers touched him with all five digits, it wouldn’t matter how hard his body was. The hardening wouldn’t stop his flesh from crumbling away. On the other hand, Kirishima couldn’t do anything to Kurogiri either. Against him, his fists were useless. The only opponent he could have stood up against was the Nomu, but even that was impossible. No amount of hardening would let him survive being hit by that monster’s overwhelming strength.
All they could do was try to keep the Nomu at a distance, which forced this current deadly exchange. Shigaraki easily overpowered Kirishima with his twisted experience. The pale villain lunged forward, hand raised, and in the next instant his palm was inches from Kirishima’s face. All five fingers spread wide, ready to reduce the boy to dust.
“Shitty hair, dodge!” Bakugo’s furious voice roared across the plaza when he realized what was about to happen.
But Kirishima was too slow. His eyes widened as death closed in—
Doom dut da da! Doom dut da da! Doom dut da da!
Suddenly, a bizarre drumbeat echoed across the entire area. Laughter—loud, manic laughter—rang out with it.
“AAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The sound was so sudden and ridiculous that every single student froze. Yet Shigaraki didn’t stop. His killing intent didn’t falter. He wasn’t the type to let himself get distracted by some noise. His palm kept moving toward Kirishima’s face.
And then—
“Gomu Gomu no Rug!”
The ground beneath Shigaraki suddenly stretched. The solid stone plaza warped like rubber and was yanked out from under his feet. With a surprised grunt, the villain was pulled forward, slamming face-first into the ground right in front of Kirishima.
The red-haired boy blinked, completely dumbfounded. Shigaraki, the terrifying villain who had been about to end his life, was sprawled at his feet in the most ridiculous way possible.
“GYAHAHAHA! I had so much fun, I forgot we were even fighting!”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the far side of the plaza. A figure in the standard white U.A. gym uniform stood there, crouched with one hand still gripping the warped ground. His messy white hair bounced as he laughed uncontrollably, his grin stretching wide across his face. None of the students recognized him at first glance. He looked vaguely familiar, but the expression, the posture, and the absurd energy radiating from him made him feel like a stranger.
“This is so much fun!” the newcomer shouted again, practically bouncing in place.
What?! The thought hit everyone at once. Class 1-A, the villains, even Kirishima himself—all of them were equally stunned.
“Who are you!?” Shigaraki snarled as he scrambled back to his feet, dust clinging to his coat. His voice was sharp, his composure cracking for the first time.
“Shihihi, did you forget me already, Handsy?” the boy teased, springing up and down. The stone beneath his sneakers bent like a trampoline, the supposedly solid ground bouncing him as though it were made of rubber.
“I’ve never seen you before! Don’t play games with me!” Shigaraki snapped. His patience snapped too. He turned his head toward the Nomu and barked, “Nomu, kill him. We don’t have time for this. Reinforcements will be here soon.”
The monstrous creature obeyed instantly. Todoroki, drained and trembling, tried to summon another wall of ice to stop it, but his body refused to move. His legs shook, and his breath came out in white gasps. The Nomu launched forward at blinding speed, heading straight for the white-haired boy.
And what did the newcomer do? He laughed. He laughed like this was the greatest thing in the world.
“Mucki, Mucki, Mucki!”
His body suddenly swelled. Muscles bulged and inflated as if his frame was a balloon being pumped full of power. In the space of a heartbeat, his physique transformed, veins popping against skin as he flexed with a manic grin.
Then, without hesitation, he charged straight at the Nomu. Their fists collided with a thunderous impact, shockwaves cracking the ground beneath them. The boy’s smile never wavered as he traded blows with the monster, each punch echoing across the plaza.
Class 1-A collectively froze again, their thoughts perfectly in sync.
WTF?!
“How—how is that guy so strong!?” someone muttered. “He’s taking the Nomu’s punches like it’s nothing! What kind of Quirk is that!?”
Shigaraki’s face twisted in rage as he watched the impossible fight. “How!? Why isn’t he being crushed!? How are you…—”
His eyes widened. His gaze locked onto the boy’s chest, where a deep, X-shaped scar stretched across the skin, visible beneath the gym uniform.
“It’s you…!” Shigaraki hissed, realization dawning. “How are your wounds already healed?!”
The boy only grinned wider, slamming his fist into the Nomu’s jaw.
“You’re that green-haired All Might fanboy!” Shigaraki’s voice cracked with fury. “Kurogiri! We need to kill him now! He can’t be allowed to grow any stronger!”
“Shishishi…”
Izuku Midoriya laughed brightly, completely unbothered as he traded blows with the monstrous Nomu. Every strike he threw echoed through the plaza, his grin never faltering even with death right in front of him.
“DEKU?!” Bakugo’s voice cracked in fury. His palms sparked with violent explosions, sweat dripping down his face as he realized what Shigaraki meant earlier. “How the hell are you doing this?! How did you get this strong all of a sudden?!”
The rest of the students could only stare. Some were too shocked to even process what was happening, while others were too battered and exhausted to move a muscle. None of them had the strength left to interfere as Kurogiri and Shigaraki made their move to support the Nomu.
Kurogiri’s mist spread out once again, a black fog curling across the plaza floor. His plan was clear—he wanted to warp Midoriya the same way they had intended to warp All Might. Force the boy into a trap and crush him. The very thought that they were being forced to use this strategy against a student left a bitter taste in the villains’ mouths. It was humiliating, but leaving someone like this alive was unthinkable. This boy wasn’t supposed to exist. He was too dangerous. Too monstrous.
Izuku, however, noticed the mist the moment it slithered toward him. His grin widened. With another carefree laugh, he reached out with his hand—and grabbed it.
Not only did he touch the intangible black fog, but his fingers pulled it, stretching the misty portal like it was nothing more than rubber. Just like when he had twisted the ground earlier, the impossible became reality in his hands.
“Gomu Gomu no… Lasso!”
The warped mist looped and bent as Izuku swung it around, forming a gigantic rubbery rope. With casual strength, he lashed it forward, wrapping it around the Nomu’s hulking body.
“Wha—?!”
Before anyone could react, Izuku tugged hard, swinging the Nomu’s massive frame through the air like it was a toy. The creature slammed into the incoming Shigaraki with bone-crunching force, knocking the villain backward in a spray of rubble and dust.
“This kid is far too strong, Shigaraki Tomura,” Kurogiri warned sharply, his usually calm voice breaking under the weight of disbelief. “He isn’t fighting seriously—he’s mocking us.”
“He’s making a fool out of me!” Shigaraki snarled, his voice shrill with rage.
Kurogiri’s form flickered uneasily as he pressed on. “We should retreat. Reinforcements will be here any moment, and this… this thing in a student’s body was never part of the plan. Keeping this up is pointless.”
They had no chance to continue the discussion. The black mist stretched unnaturally again—Izuku had grabbed hold of Kurogiri’s body and pulled him off balance as if he were a rubber band. At the same time, Nomu was once again launched across the plaza like a ragdoll, sent tumbling toward Shigaraki before the villain could regain his footing.
BANG!
A sudden, deafening noise echoed from the grand staircase. The entrance doors burst open, slamming against the walls with such force that a cloud of dust exploded outward.
Every eye turned toward the top of the stairs.
When the dust settled, a tall, broad silhouette appeared. The Symbol of Peace himself stood there, his cape rippling in the wind.
“I am here!”
All Might’s booming voice shook the plaza. But this time, he wasn’t smiling. His sharp eyes scanned the scene before him—then froze.
The sight before him was nothing like what he expected. A large number of villains were already unconscious, scattered across the plaza like discarded dolls. His students were huddled together near the stairs, injured but safe for the moment. Aizawa and Thirteen were down, badly wounded. But what truly stopped him in his tracks was not them.
It was the white figure in the middle of the battlefield.
A boy in a white U.A. uniform, hair as pale as snow, surrounded by an unnatural mist. All Might’s students—his students!—were standing back, gawking at him as though they had no idea what they were looking at.
And that boy… was toying with three of the most dangerous villains amongst the attackers.
Right now, he was using one of the villains as a rope, having looped the other into it, and was swinging them around like improvised weapons. The third, Shigaraki, flailed wildly as he tried to avoid being struck by his own allies. It was a scene so absurd that All Might could barely process it.
Then, just as the Symbol of Peace arrived, the white-haired boy’s muscles inflated again. He twisted his torso, laughed like a madman, and shouted at the top of his lungs—
“Gomu Gomu no… SLINGSHOT!”
The Nomu, bound tight in the stretched mist, was launched like a cannonball. The monstrous creature tore through the roof of the USJ building, vanishing into the sky with a thunderous CRASH.
Every jaw in the plaza dropped.
All Might’s eyes bulged out in cartoonish disbelief, his brain utterly failing to catch up with what he had just witnessed. Only one word left his mouth—
“NANI?!”
