𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗦 ⌈𝐈⌔𝐌 ✗ 𝔽!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⌋

Chapter 118

CHAPTER 118: The Will to End It All

The battlefield was a nightmare carved in fire and ash. Flames danced through twisted steel and shattered stone, their heat smothered only by the dense, suffocating smoke that turned the sky to shadow. U.A. High—once a beacon of hope, of future heroes—now hovered precariously above the broken earth, trembling as Gentle Criminal’s Quirk strained to keep it aloft.

The world was crumbling, and the heroes were all that stood between salvation and ruin.

Yet through it all, one thought pulsed relentlessly in Izuku’s heart—a name, a memory, a presence.

You.

You were his light. His constant. His reason.

His home.

He fought to protect that light. He always had. But now, he didn’t know if it still burned. The last time he saw you, you were standing tall—determined, fierce, ready to give your all for this final stand. That was hours ago. Since then, the world had spiraled into hell.

Now, locked in combat with Shigaraki, the not knowing twisted like a blade in his chest.

“She’s okay… right? What if—”

The thought clawed at him, threatening to unmake him in the middle of the storm.

Bodies lay scattered across the field—heroes he'd fought beside, mentored by, inspired by. Some groaned in pain. Others didn’t move at all. And in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shove it away, he saw flashes of your body among them—silent, cold, broken, unmoving, gone.

“No.”

His fists clenched.

“No, she's not—she wouldn't fall like this.”

You were strong.

You were still fighting.

And you believed in him. He could feel it, like a thread connecting your souls.

So he wouldn’t break.

Not until this was over.

Not until he saw you again.

---

Heroes and civilians were being rushed toward Central Hospital, the air choked with panic and smoke. But even that sanctuary trembled on the edge—spies had infiltrated the evacuation tunnels, turning safety into another battleground.

The cries of the injured echoed through the wreckage, but even amid the chaos, a stubborn ember of hope clung to life.

From the haze stepped Lady Nagant.

Blood streaked her face, her cloak torn and scorched, her steps uneven. Every breath was labored, every movement pain-wracked—but her eyes cut through the smoke with deadly clarity.

Rock Lock caught sight of her, his face taut with disbelief. “Nagant?! You’re supposed to be at the hospital—you can barely stand!”

She didn’t stop. “I can still shoot.”

“You’re pushing it—”

“Where do you need me?” she said, voice like steel.

A beat of hesitation. Then, with a grim nod, he pointed toward the maelstrom outside U.A. “Midoriya’s fighting Shigaraki. It's hell down there. He needs cover, now more than ever.”

She gave a single nod before turning, dragging her battered body up a crumbled structure. Every step screamed with agony, but she didn’t slow. Her damaged arm shimmered, shifting—reforming into the familiar shape of her rifle.