TheFanficGOD
patreon
MHA64- The Moment Everything Changed
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 18:17:29 +0000 UTCAs we were crawling away, All Might shot past us like a goddamn cannonball, crashing through the rubble.
"The fuck," I muttered, twisting to see his opponent flexing his arm like he was testing out a new toy.
"Atmospheric Compression, Locomotive Corkscrew, Explosiveness x4, Muscular Enhancement x3… Hehe, not bad. This is quite fun. Maybe I will collect more physical augmentation quirks."
He looked at me. No eyes visible, just that blank, wrinkled face. But I felt it. That deep, primal kind of lust that made my whole ass clench like a black hole.
"System, who the fuck is this cheat?" I activated Analyze. "This motherfucker is an even bigger cheat than me!"
[Analyzing…]
[Target: All For One
Quirk: All For One – Can steal and distribute quirks. Has access to a massive collection of abilities.
Quirk: Super Regeneration – Rapid healing from most injuries.
Quirk: Enhanced Strength – Multiple strength-enhancing quirks stacked for absurd power.
Quirk: Air Cannon – Compressed air blasts capable of leveling buildings.
Quirk: Warping – Short-range teleportation.
…]
[Threat Level: Run, dumbass.]
I closed the window. "We need to fucking go."
[NEW QUEST: TEMPTING FATE]
OBJECTIVE: Punch All For One in the face into personally attacking you.
REWARD: ??? (High-Risk, High-Reward)
FAILURE: ??? (You won’t like it.)
[SUB-QUESTS—
I didn’t even let the System finish. "Yeah, no. Hard pass. Harder than even my erection."
[ARE YOU SURE? REWARDS ARE JUICY.]
"You can keep ‘em."
Todoroki was already pulling Izuku up. Kirishima grabbed Kaminari by the collar, dragging him out of his daze. Bakugo didn't even need prompting; he was already on the move.
All For One took a slow step forward. His hand flexed, then he pointed—at me. "Interesting. I was planning on taking One For All… but you might be worth collecting too."
"Oh fuck no," I snapped. "I ain't some limited-edition action figure, you fossilized nutsack."
"Ryuu," Yaoyorozu hissed. "Stop antagonizing him!"
"Yeah? And what, be polite?"
[DUDE! THAT WAS ONE OF THE SUBQUESTS. YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN A GREAT REWARD FROM ANTAGONIZING THAT ASSHOLE. TOO BAD YOU DIDN’T TAKE THE QUEST!]
I moved forward. “Yeah, no. I don’t wanna.”
All Might flew back before that eyeless bastard could stare at my bending ass any longer. I pulled everyone and moved forward.
“What now?” Kaminari asked, already looking like he regretted everything.
“We get the fuck out before Discount Voldemort turns one of us into a test subject.” I grabbed Bakugo by the collar before he could start some stupid fight and yanked him forward. He growled but didn’t blast me, which was progress.
Todoroki kept pace, glancing back. “You sure he won’t chase?”
“Dunno, don’t care. If he does, we’ll find out when we start getting rag-dolled across the city.”
Izuku flinched. “All Might is still fighting—”
“Yeah, he does that,” I cut in. “We’re not exactly on his priority list right now.”
Yaoyorozu adjusted her grip on Jiro’s sleeve. “We need to leave before—”
A shockwave rocked the street, cutting her off. The air pressure alone sent loose debris flying. I shoved Izuku forward, moving faster.
“All Might’s losing,” Kirishima muttered.
Bakugo scoffed. “He’s fucking All Might.”
“Yeah, and that crusty motherfucker just folded him like laundry,” I shot back.
Kaminari looked over his shoulder. “Maybe we should—”
"Nope." I smacked the back of Kaminari’s head. "Bad Pikachu. You are a bad Pikachu! We’re already pushing our luck."
We finally got past the barricade. Toru, now thankfully clothed, joined us, still refusing to look in my direction. Her face was practically steaming, but I let it slide. At least Class 1-A was back together.
We gathered in a square, where a giant screen broadcasted the fight from a helicopter feed. All Might was throwing hands with that wrinkled bastard, but it was clear—he was slowing down. The hits still had power, but his movements weren’t as sharp. The crowd was tense, everyone locked on the screen like they were waiting for the moment everything went to hell.
"You think he’s got this?" Kirishima muttered.
Bakugo scoffed. "Course he does, dumbass."
Yaoyorozu glanced at the screen. "But for how long?"
All For One barely looked phased. He just stood there, letting All Might punch him like it was a minor inconvenience. His body barely moved with the impact. Then, in one motion, he slammed a fist into All Might’s side. The shockwave sent rubble flying.
The crowd gasped.
All Might stumbled, caught himself, but his arm—his big, strong, oh-so-symbolic arm—twitched.
I knew what that meant.
He was on a timer.
"Shit," I muttered.
"He's losing," Izuku said, fists clenched.
"He’s still standing," I said. "Not losing till he drops."
The feed zoomed in. His muscles were smaller now. His body was straining.
No one talked.
The streets weren’t quiet, but the usual city noise had faded. Even the people around us, the civilians, the heroes standing by, were holding their breath.
All Might launched forward, fist cocked back. The air pressure alone cracked the pavement under him. All For One didn’t even move. He stood there, waiting, like he had all the time in the world.
All Might’s punch connected, a direct hit to the bastard’s chest. The impact sent a shockwave through the street, rattling windows, dust shooting into the air. For a second, it looked like it landed clean.
Then, All For One’s arm snapped up.
His hand clamped around All Might’s wrist, stopping him cold. The force of the punch didn’t even push him back. It just—stopped.
The screen zoomed in. All Might’s grip tightened, muscles bulging, but he wasn’t moving forward.
All For One barely tilted his head. “Is this all you have left?”
The counterattack was instant. His other hand shot forward, a burst of air blasting out from his palm. It hit like a missile. All Might flew back, smashing through a streetlight before skidding across the ground.
The crowd gasped.
My classmates, civilians, everyone around me was silent.
Izuku’s fists clenched. His breathing was too tight.
All Might pushed himself up, one arm shaking for a split second before he steadied. He rolled his shoulder, forcing a grin. “Still got a bit left in me.”
All For One sighed, like the whole fight was a mild inconvenience. “I suppose you do.”
Another shockwave blasted out. All Might charged again, but the difference was clear. He was slower. His movements, just a fraction off. The kind of thing the average dumbass wouldn’t notice, but Izuku and I? We weren’t the average dumbass.
He swung again. This time, All For One dodged, barely shifting to the side. He let the punch fly past him, then lashed out, a tendril of black energy wrapping around All Might’s arm.
All Might tried to pull back, but another tendril shot out, snaring his leg.
The crowd’s murmurs got louder. People shuffled, uneasy.
All Might planted his feet, yanking against the hold. “Not bad,” he said. “But—”
His other arm flexed. He grabbed the tendril, gripping tight, then pulled.
All For One’s body jerked forward.
All Might twisted, breaking free, and in the same motion, his fist shot out. This time, the hit landed solid. All For One staggered, his footing slipping slightly.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
But All Might’s left arm was still shaking.
I wasn’t the only one who caught it. All For One let out a low chuckle. “Running on fumes now, aren’t you?”
All Might didn’t respond. He just charged again.
Another impact. Another shockwave. But this time, when the dust cleared, All Might was on one knee.
Izuku gritted his teeth. “Come on…”
Nobody spoke.
All For One stepped forward. “You can barely hold your form, can you?”
The murmurs in the crowd turned to whispers.
All Might exhaled, rolling his shoulder. His grin was still there, but it was strained now. “Still standing, aren’t I?”
Another charge. Another collision. Another shockwave tearing through the street.
The battle dragged. Each exchange slower, each hit taking more out of him. All Might’s right arm, the only one still in proper shape, was moving less fluidly. The left was barely responding now.
And then it happened.
All For One’s next attack slammed into his side. All Might flew back—harder this time. He crashed into a building, debris raining down around him.
The cheers stopped.
The camera zoomed in.
All Might didn’t get up immediately.
The murmurs turned to shouts.
The news anchor’s voice shook. “All Might has… fallen.”
People pushed forward, some pointing at the screen, some just staring. Even the Pro Heroes watching weren’t moving. Nobody was breathing.
Then, the dust shifted.
All Might pushed himself up.
The crowd roared.
His arm hung uselessly at his side. His breathing was heavier. But he stood.
All For One frowned. “Why do you insist on struggling?”
All Might took a step forward. “Because…” His grip tightened. “I have to win.”
All For One laughed. "Show them. Let the world see what their hero truly is—broken, weak, finished."
The dust settled. The towering figure everyone knew, the Symbol of Peace, was gone. What stood in his place was a frail, battered man, his body slumped forward, skin stretched tight over his bones. His right arm dangled uselessly. His breathing was heavy, labored, dragging air like it took effort just to stay upright.
The broadcast showed everything.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. A woman covered her mouth, shaking her head. An old man fell to his knees, staring. Some reporter muttered, “No way. That’s… that’s not…” before trailing off. The anchor couldn’t even fill the silence. Nobody could.
People in their homes, on the streets, inside restaurants, in their cars—all of Japan froze, staring at their screens.
Then, someone yelled.
"ALL MIGHT!"
Another.
"WIN!"
Then another.
"ALL MIGHT, YOU CAN DO IT!"
One by one, voices rose. Strangers, neighbors, heroes, civilians—everyone started shouting. People chanted his name. They screamed for him to stand, to win, to fight. The sound carried through the city, from the streets to the highest buildings, bouncing off the walls and back again.
He couldn’t fall here.
All Might exhaled. He lifted his head. His left fist clenched.
"I am the Symbol of Peace," he said. His voice wasn’t loud, wasn’t booming like usual. It was raw, strained—but it carried. "And I cannot lose."
His body swelled. The emaciated frame vanished under a wave of muscle, his form snapping back into place like a rubber band pulled too far. The force cracked the pavement under him.
All For One’s fingers twitched. "Still struggling?"
All Might’s foot slammed forward. The shockwave blasted the air, sending cracks through the ground.
Then, he moved.
He closed the gap in an instant, faster than before, faster than he had been at the start of the fight. His left fist pulled back, muscles tightening, veins bulging under his skin. The air split around him, a deafening roar building with each fraction of a second.
All For One braced, quirks shifting, stacking, multiplying—
"UNITED STATES OF SMASH!"
The impact detonated.
The shockwave ripped through the battlefield, splitting the air apart. Wind howled, streets caved, the surrounding buildings groaned under the sheer force. Every camera watching the fight cut to static for a full second before flickering back.
All For One’s body blasted into the ground. The pavement cracked, split, then cratered inward, his form driven so deep into the earth it was like the planet itself swallowed him. Dust exploded outward, the sheer pressure of the hit sending debris flying in every direction.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then, the dust settled.
All Might stood over him.
The city roared.
People screamed his name, cheers exploding from every corner. News anchors shouted over each other. Reporters fumbled with their mics, struggling to keep up with the chaos. Crowds hugged strangers, sobbing, shaking, screaming.
The League of Villains was gone. Their master, their leader, their goddamn trump card was buried under a hole deep enough to serve as his grave.
All Might didn’t move. His hand curled into a fist, then loosened.
The last embers of One For All flickered. Then, for the final time—
It went out.
All Might’s arm trembled, his body barely holding together, but his finger stayed locked in place.
Pointing forward.
The camera focused, broadcasting the moment to millions. The entire country watched, breaths held, waiting for whatever words came next.
"You’re…"
The word echoed. Faces in the crowd shifted—confused, hopeful, awed. Some gasped, some just stared. Even heroes standing by, battered from the fight, tensed as the meaning of it sank in.
The Symbol of Peace, the man who had carried the weight of the world, was looking right at them.
"Next."
Silence, then an explosion of sound.
The entire nation shook with cheers. People sobbed openly. Some clutched their chests, others raised their fists, shouting their belief, their faith. To them, it wasn’t just words—it was a declaration.
All Might, even at his weakest, was still pushing them forward.
For those watching, it was a promise.
"You’re next."
Not just one person. Not just a single hero. Everyone.
Anyone.
Every struggling student, every dreamer, every hopeful soul chasing after something bigger than themselves. Anyone who had ever felt powerless, who had ever thought they weren’t enough. They could be heroes too. They could be the ones standing tall.
They could carry the torch.
Izuku stood frozen, lips parted, heart pounding against his ribs. The roar of the crowd, the flashing of cameras, none of it reached him. His fingers clenched at his side.
He knew.
All Might wasn’t talking to the world.
He was talking to him.
His eyes burned, but he didn’t blink. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t look away.
Because this—this was the moment everything changed.
Daily Meme
