𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗦 ⌈𝐈⌔𝐌 ✗ 𝔽!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⌋

Chapter 115

CHAPTER 115: Fury of the Ocean, Heart of the Storm

The floating battlefield of U.A. had become a warzone suspended in the sky, and the chaos within mirrored the desperation of everyone involved. Below, Tomura Shigaraki unleashed a grotesque flood of mutated fingers—twisting, stretching, writhing like a living curse as they tore through the Coffin’s defenses. Screams and blasts echoed through the air as pro heroes fought to hold the line, every second hard-won.

"It’s not a Quirk!" Shigaraki’s voice thundered above the fray, wild and unhinged. "This is the evolution of the Quirk Singularity! The end result of a world built on weakness and lies!"

The mutated growths surged forward, tearing apart steel and stone alike, spreading faster than anyone could stop. Through the rising static of the comms, Eraser Head’s voice snapped sharply.

"Midoriya! We can’t warp you in—Monoma has to keep Erasure active! If he stops, even for a moment, Shigaraki’s Decay will consume everything!"

There was a pause.

"I’ll make it," Izuku said. Not a single note of doubt in his voice. Just raw, ironclad determination.

He didn’t need a warp.

He would find his own way to U.A.

Because he had to.

---

Kamino Ward burned.

The once-familiar skyline was swallowed in plumes of smoke and flame, casting a hellish glow across the fractured remains of the city. Buildings crumbled in the distance, reduced to ash and debris by the clash of wills now reaching its boiling point. In the eye of the inferno stood two brothers—fireborn and forged by trauma—locked in a dance of destruction that had been years in the making.

Shoto stood firm, scorched but unyielding, sweat trailing down his brow from the heat—not just from the flames, but from the weight of the moment. His eyes never left the figure before him.

Dabi.

Or rather, Touya—the older brother he had thought dead for so long. The brother who now stood twisted by hatred, body cracking and burning under the force of his own relentless power. His skin blistered and charred, patched together by sheer will and vengeance.

"You should have stayed dead," Dabi growled, his voice ragged and brimming with venom. Blue fire curled around his fingertips, rising in spirals like specters of fury. "You had no right to live the life I was denied. You had no right to smile, to grow, to become the family’s hope while I was left to rot."

The heat was suffocating, but Shoto didn’t flinch.

His voice, though trembling, rose above the crackling blaze. "Why didn’t you come back, Touya? You were alive. You could’ve come home—we could’ve helped you!"

For a split second, something flickered in Dabi’s eyes. Pain. Conflict.
But then, just as quickly, it vanished—swallowed by the fire.

"Home?" Dabi spat, his grin hollow. "You think that place was a home to me? That was my grave long before the fire ever touched me. You—all of you—moved on without a second thought."

The fire surged outward with his words, gouging the earth around them. Asphalt bubbled. Buildings groaned and gave way to the heat. The sky itself looked like it might catch fire.

Still, Shoto stepped forward.
Just one step.

His chest rose and fell with effort, and behind the frost building on his left side, his voice remained steady—no longer just grieving, but resolute.