Yuka Amane was assigned by pro hero Endeavor to befriend his son, Shoto Todoroki in order for Yuka's powerful quirk of wielding the sun to be merged with Todoroki's fire and ice.
Todoroki thought he had met someone who understood him like none othe...
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2101
Yuka's consciousness gradually surfaced, like a ship emerging from the fog. The first thing she felt was a relentless, sterile brightness, almost like a spotlight glaring down on her. Her eyes fluttered open to a scene so stark and clinical that it felt as though she had been transported into a sterile void. The room was an unending expanse of white, the walls stretching upward in smooth, unbroken planes that seemed to blend seamlessly into the ceiling. The overhead lights cast an unforgiving glare, making everything around her appear cold and unforgiving.
The floor beneath her was a polished, glossy white that reflected the harsh, artificial light, creating a disorienting effect. The smooth, almost mirror-like surface made the room feel even more alien, as if it existed outside of time and reality. The air was tinged with a faint, antiseptic scent that heightened the sense of sterility and alienation. Yuka blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the brightness, but the harsh light only added to her growing disorientation.
She attempted to move, only to find that her limbs were restrained. Panic surged through her as she tried to wriggle free from the metal bands that encircled her wrists and ankles. The restraints were tight but not painfully so; they held her securely without cutting off circulation. Still, the sensation of being trapped was enough to send her heart racing and her breaths coming in shallow, panicked gasps.
She flexed her fingers, attempting to activate her quirk with all the light that was in the room, but it didn't work. Her quirk, which had always been her source of strength, was now rendered useless, adding to her growing sense of helplessness.
Her heart sank. She was powerless.
Where was she?
Fragmented memories rushed back in disjointed flashes: an abandoned building, the oppressive darkness, the black goo swallowing her whole. And then—Shoto. His absence hit her like a punch to the gut.
Panic morphed into desperation as Yuka strained against her bonds. Sweat trickled down her temple as she twisted her wrists, trying to wriggle free. But the restraints held firm, unyielding. Frustrated, she shook them violently, the cold metal biting into her skin.
The door to the room opened with a soft, clinical whoosh, and a figure waddled in, his footsteps echoing slightly in the sterile environment. The man was short and plump, his lab coat swishing as he walked. His face was round and flushed, and he peered at her through thick, round glasses. He carried a clipboard and wore a surgical mask that he pulled down with an almost exaggerated flourish, revealing a tight-lipped smile.
"Ah, Lucy, you're awake," he said, his voice nasally and irritating. "Good. We can proceed."
Yuka's confusion and fear were palpable. She immediately memorized his features for when she got out of this place. She would put him in jail.
"Lucy?"
"Oh right, I forgot how ignorant you were." The doctor said with a chuckle.
