Shigaraki threw himself sideways, skidding over cracked beams and busted tile. He wasn't dodging, just gasping for space to breathe. Dozens of Nomu dropped from everywhere like cockroach skydivers on crack, High-End, low-end, and no-end freaks.
"Split and take them down! Protect Eraser!" Jeanist yelled, already snapping lines across the courtyard, pulling debris into barricades.
Ryukyu took to the sky, tail whipping as her shadow crossed over the busted wall. Nejire landed by my side.
"It is ready."
I nodded.
Mirko tore ahead without waiting. I followed. The path through what was once the ER wing now looked like a landfill built by psychopaths. I jumped over what used to be a nurse's station, caught a pipe mid-air, swung down, booted a Nomu in the face.
"Don't slow," I called behind me. "If you hesitate, they eat you."
Nejire shot waves forward, clearing the path. I darted through before the dust settled.
Three Nomu crouched ahead, twitching like dogs on cocaine. One lunged.
I ducked, stepped in, hit its jaw with WEM. Momentum stacked. Skull bent the wrong way. It didn't get up.
Second one swung down.
"Try harder," I muttered, rolling under its claw and jamming the bat between its ribs.
Mirko kicked the last one so hard it folded like laundry.
"Keep pushing," she grunted. "They are just trying to slow us."
Shigaraki looked at Izuku and said it like it was personal. "I want that Quirk back, brother."
Then he twitched, like something spoke behind his eyes. His head tilted. "Let it go, Master. Your will is still too strong."
Then he snapped his gaze sideways, toward Aizawa.
I saw it too late.
He pulled something from the rubble and aimed.
My feet moved before my brain. One blink and I was between them. WEM came up like a goddamn riot shield.
My arms went numb from the impact. The bat shook like it hated me.
The Quirk-Erasing round exploded on the bat's head and fell flat.
"You think you can shoot him with me here?" I growled.
Shigaraki smiled. "I was counting on it. But you stepped in. That is enough.
His Quirks came back. All of them.
His skin lit with veins, healing ripped muscle. I felt the rot creeping already, Decay crawling across the floor in webs.
Before Aizawa could look again, Shigaraki jumped.
Air Cannon blasted out. Radio Waves fried what tech we had left. The dust swallowed him. The hospital was already rubble. Now it was blind hell.
"MOVE!" I shouted.
I grabbed Nejire and Mirko by the arms and leapt back. Others were scattering. Well, smart ones did. Dumb ones were choking on smoke.
Izuku floated up. Blackwhip dragged some others. I saw Jeanist yanking more.
Aizawa coughed, trying to force his eyes open through grit and broken air.
"Wash him!" I yelled. "Get Manual or someone on his goddamn eyes!"
Mirko shook her arm free. "We are clearing a hole."
Nejire nodded. "I will sweep."
"Go."
We moved.
It was a straight-up meat grinder from here.
Mirko smashed through a half-standing wall and I followed. More Nomu lunged. She caught the first in the gut. Ribs snapped.
The second one grabbed. Claws to neck.
I spun, yanked the bastard's arm down, and caved in his temple with the head of the bat. Teeth sprayed. He collapsed twitching.
Mirko didn't bother dodging. She kicked one to Mars. "Next!" she yelled.
Shigaraki was in the air again, circling like a buzzard. Kept high and loose. Every time Aizawa tried to pin him down, something would slide into view. A Nomu. Rubble. One of us. Didn't matter. Bastard played the camera angles like he directed his own fight reel.
His decay crawled like a fungus across the floor, walls, air... The place was a graveyard of concrete already.
Mirko clicked her tongue. "Close in and I lose my legs."
"Same," I muttered. Decay swept out again. Barely missed her foot. I stepped back.
We could not get near. That bastard was oozing death like a busted faucet. Mirko and I were the type to fight dirty, not long-range, and this turned our playground into a no-touch zone.
And Shigaraki knew it.
He grinned, like his face had given up trying to be human. "Come on. I thought you were both fast. What, scared of a little disintegration?"
I spat. "Nah. Just waiting for you to finally collapse under the weight of daddy's unresolved trauma."
His eye twitched.
"Must suck," I said, walking slow in a wide arc, careful to stay clear from decay. "All that power. All those Quirks. And still no one loves you. Shit, even AFO looked at you like you were a half-baked disappointment. And that bastard adopted you."
Shigaraki chuckled like he had just won the world's creepiest lottery. "I will rip out your tongue and nut on it every morning to feed you a fucking breakfast."
"What the fuck." I stopped mid-step, staring. Even the Nomu looked uncomfortable. "Bro, that was so foul it gave me a yeast infection just hearing it."
He tilted his head, smirking like that counted as foreplay. "It is not fun, is it? You told me all that shit every time you saw me."
"Yeah. And every time, you folded like an insecure origami project done by a blind toddler."
Shigaraki took a step forward. Dust curled from his foot, cracking them, but he kept his distance. He was waiting for me to flinch.
"You want One For All," I said, "Not because you believe in power. But because that voice in your skull tells you to. Because you think if you fill the hole in your chest with enough Quirks, you will stop hearing the echoes of 'Tomura, stop scratching.' You are not a villain, Tomura. You are a side effect. The byproduct of daddy issues, crusty skin, and grandpa's failure fetish."
Shigaraki bared his teeth. "You think you are different?"
"I know I am," I shrugged. "Because I don't lie to myself. You? You keep pretending this is all about saving people. Breaking systems. Uprooting fake heroes. But really… you just want a hug."
I took a slow step forward. "You want someone to look you in the eye and say, 'It is not your fault, Tomura. You can stop now.' You want a fucking lullaby."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
His hand twitched again, but he didn't move.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" I kept walking. "I see a little boy who murdered his dog and cried about it. I see a man wearing his family's hands like a fucking necklace and calling it fashion. You want pity so bad, it leaks from your pores."
He looked up, trying to smile. It cracked halfway through.
"You don't believe in anything, do you?" I said. "Not real freedom. Not justice. Not even your own rage. You are just a wet blanket someone set on fire and called evil."
He charged, "Shut the fuck up!"
I backstepped, swung WEM into the concrete chunk Cementoss hurled into the air. The bat hit it like a spike to a volleyball. I flipped into the next one mid-spin, sent it flying into Shigaraki's thigh. Third one came up, I bashed it dead center, turned it into shrapnel that peppered his chest and forced him back. Decay took most of them, but still hit.
He growled.
"Do you know why your master picked you?" I called out. "It ain't because you are strong. Not because you are smart. Not even cause you are broken. He picked you because your grandma put her boot in his ugly face, and you were the easiest way to piss on her grave."
Shigaraki's foot twitched.
"You think this is about power? It ain't. You are a middle finger in human form. A petty spite fuck born to settle a grudge he was too bitch-made to close himself."
He snarled again but didn't charge.
"Not attacking?" I barked. "Afraid if you swing, your whole mission will collapse like your spine without daddy's hand holding it up?"
"I will tear your legs off."
"Then do it," I snapped. "Or maybe you need AFO to give you permission like every other fucking thing in your life. Face it, you are just a dog on a leash. One bark away from being put down."
Cracks spread under his feet.
"That your plan now?" I said, "Stand still and let your death field do the work? Shit is real bold. Real brave. Very villain-core of you. Tell me, when is the last time you earned something without killing it or whining for it?"
I kept circling him.
"You ain't a successor. You are a failed reboot. All bark, no teeth. All that power, and you still cry when someone brings up Nana's name."
"I will erase you."
"You already tried," I barked a laughter. "And what happened? I kept talking. You folded. Cause that is what you do. You bend. To him. To the voices. To whatever old man trauma is whispering in your skull today."
He lunged.
I blinked under it. Phantom Step.
"Tell me. Why do you hate the world? Because your dad hated heroes? He pissed on your dreams so hard it soaked through your skin. And now what, you are just wearing that rot like armor?"
Shigaraki didn't answer. He just stared, twitching. Barely keeping it together.
I grinned. "He was truly as fucked up as you."
"Nana left to protect her kid. Was it the right move? Who the fuck knows. But she chose heroism. Chose to keep this world from turning into a full-time funeral."
"She chose it so that a little boy could grow up in peace, in a safe country. And your daddy, who got to live that peace, hated it, because it meant he could not throw a tantrum without someone calling it out. He got the luxury Nana never had, and what did he do? Cry about it. Blame heroes. Blame her."
Shigaraki's jaw clenched. He did not speak.
"And after he crushed your dreams, beat them out of you for daring to want what she stood for, you... copied him. You became him. All that hate, all that rot, you inherited it like a disease, and now you wear it like a crown. You think you are a king. You are just a victim playing dress-up."
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