The USJ Incident Part 2

AN: I'm going to ignore my doubt, and believe this chapter is good, I worked really hard on getting what I wanted across and I feel I may have overdone it if anything. But that aside I Truly hope I did this well, and as always please give feedback. and please, I'm begging you to review. I still don't have a single one on Fanfiction.

As the students stepped off the bus and approached the massive Unforeseen Simulation Joint, the scale of the building left many of them wide-eyed.

"Whoa," Kirishima said, awestruck as he took in the sleek, futuristic structure. "This place is insane! It's huge!"

"Right?" Kaminari added, giving a low whistle. "Feels like we're about to walk into some kind of movie set or something."

Shinji trailed slightly behind the others, his gaze scanning the building and the area around it. While the rest of the class admired the structure, something caught his attention. Aizawa stood a little ways off, speaking quietly with Thirteen. Though Shinji couldn't hear the conversation, he noticed Aizawa raise three fingers briefly before gesturing toward the students.

Huh, Shinji thought, his brow furrowing slightly. He didn't linger on the gesture, but he filed it away in the back of his mind. Probably just some plan or prep for the exercise, he decided, shaking it off.

"Welcome, everyone!" Thirteen's cheerful voice pulled the students' attention as they gathered near the entrance.

Uraraka immediately lit up, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh my gosh, it's Thirteen! You're amazing! Your Quirk is so cool, and you're always saving people, it's so inspiring!"

Thirteen tilted their helmet modestly. "Thank you, Uraraka. I appreciate that. But remember, my Quirk is extremely powerful and can be dangerous if not handled correctly. That's why today's exercise is so important, to help you all learn how to use your abilities responsibly and for the purpose of rescue."

Aizawa stepped back to the group, his usual calm demeanor in place. "Alright, enough fanboying. Let's line up. Thirteen will explain the exercise, and then we'll head in. Pay attention and don't slack off."

The students quickly formed a loose line, focusing on Thirteen as they prepared for the explanation. Shinji cast one last glance at Aizawa, who looked as composed as ever, before turning his attention back to the building.

Even as the moment passed, Shinji couldn't help but wonder briefly about Aizawa's gesture. It didn't feel ominous or strange, just... deliberate. Still, there was no point overthinking it. This was just another training day, and he could actually say he was excited about this. 

The students quickly formed a line, the chatter quieting as they focused on Thirteen's words. Shinji hung toward the back, his arms crossed as he watched the proceedings. While the excitement of his classmates was palpable, he found himself more curious about the practical applications of the training than the hero's celebrity status.

Still, a faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched Uraraka's enthusiasm. It was nice, in a way, to see such genuine admiration for a hero whose focus was on saving rather than destroying.

Thirteen led the students into the massive dome that housed the Unforeseen Simulation Joint. The sheer scale of the interior was enough to stop them in their tracks, mouths agape as they took it all in.

The dome stretched impossibly high, its roof a gleaming lattice of reinforced glass and steel, letting in beams of sunlight that illuminated the entire facility. The space was divided into distinct zones, each designed to replicate different disaster scenarios: a roaring artificial flood, a smoldering volcanic area with streams of glowing magma, a crumbling urban landscape, and even a dense forest. All these environments seamlessly merged, giving the dome an almost surreal quality, like stepping into a dozen worlds at once.

The students found themselves at the top of a massive, sweeping staircase that descended into the center of the dome. The staircase was wide enough to accommodate them all comfortably, the railings polished to a shine. From this vantage point, they could see the entirety of the facility spread out before them, every detail meticulously designed to make their training as realistic as possible.

"Whoa," Kaminari muttered, leaning slightly over the railing to get a better look. "This place is nuts. It's like an amusement park for disasters!"

Uraraka's eyes sparkled with awe. "It's incredible! I can't believe we get to train here!"

"Don't get too excited just yet," Aizawa warned as he walked to the edge of the platform, hands stuffed in his pockets. "This place may look impressive, but it's here to teach you how to deal with real-world situations. Keep your focus."

Thirteen turned to address the group, their voice calm but authoritative. "As you can see, the USJ is divided into various zones. Each one simulates a different type of disaster, from landslides to floods to fires. Today's exercise will involve-"

The students leaned in, eager to hear the plan. From their high vantage point, the scale of what lay before them felt almost overwhelming, but the potential for learning was just as immense.

As Shinji listened to Thirteen's explanation, his gaze wandered across the massive area before him. The intricate design of the training zones momentarily distracted him, but then something caught his eye.

Dead center, just in front of the fountain, the air shimmered unnaturally, as though the very fabric of reality was bending. A split second later, the distortion broke apart, giving way to a swirling purple fog.

Shinji's heart sank. His muscles tensed as he instinctively stepped forward, his voice sharp and urgent.

"Aizawa!"

The teacher snapped his attention to where Shinji was pointing, his eyes narrowing immediately as he spotted the disturbance. His usually calm demeanor shifted, his body moving into a ready stance.

The rest of the class turned to look, murmurs of confusion rippling through the group.

"What's that?" Kaminari asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Is it part of the exercise?" Sero added though the unease in his tone betrayed his doubt.

Aizawa's voice cut through the growing tension, steady and firm. "Everyone, stay together and don't move." He glanced at Thirteen, who nodded and moved into position.

The purple fog began to expand, the swirling mass intensifying as a dark, ominous figure stepped through. More silhouettes followed, their shapes becoming clearer as they emerged from the mist.

"This isn't part of the exercise," Aizawa muttered under his breath, his scarf already unfurling as he prepared for what was coming. "Thirteen, protect the students."

Shinji's fists clenched as he watched the scene unfold, his mind racing. This wasn't just a drill, it was something much worse.

"Don't go out there," Shinji near-ordered, his voice cutting through the growing tension with a weight of authority that even surprised Aizawa. The usual distance in his tone was replaced by a seriousness that demanded attention.

The class turned to him, startled by the shift in his demeanor. Even Aizawa's sharp eyes briefly flickered with curiosity before narrowing again, considering Shinji's words.

"Wait for whatever it is to come out," Shinji continued, his gaze fixed on the fog as it twisted and writhed. "Then we can work from there."

Aizawa studied him for a moment, the silent calculation evident in his expression. Finally, he gave a slight nod, acknowledging Shinji's point. "Not bad advice," he admitted, his voice calm but firm. "Stay back. Observe. We don't move unless absolutely necessary."

The students murmured among themselves, some clearly unnerved, others nodding in agreement.

"Takeyama's right," Aizawa added, addressing the group. "Charging into something unknown is reckless. We assess first, then act."

The purple fog continued to spread, darkening the space near the fountain. Figures were becoming clearer now, distinct, humanoid shapes moving with an eerie purpose.

Shinji's jaw tightened as he kept his eyes locked on the disturbance, his mind running through potential scenarios. "If it's hostile, it'll show its hand soon enough. We just need to be ready."

They didn't have to wait long.

From the swirling fog, figures began to emerge, dozens of them, pouring out like a wave of menace. Shinji's eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. Everything about them screamed villain. Their mismatched outfits, the sinister smirks, the way they carried themselves with an air of chaos and confidence, it was all too clear what they were.

Some brandished weapons, others cracked knuckles or flexed claws, their eyes scanning the area like predators sizing up their prey. The group ranged wildly in appearance, hulking brutes, wiry figures with sharp features, even a few who looked unsettlingly calm, their expressions betraying a cold calculation.

The fog continued to churn behind them, a dark portal to whatever chaos had spawned them.

Shinji instinctively shifted his stance, his body tense but steady. "Well," he muttered under his breath, the faintest edge of sarcasm in his voice, "guess we're skipping introductions."

Beside him, the others were already reacting. Midoriya's breath hitched as he processed the sheer number of enemies, while Bakugo's grin widened, sparks already crackling at his palms. Todoroki's gaze was icy and focused, his hand hovering near his side as if deciding which power to unleash first.

Aizawa, standing firm at the front, didn't flinch. He pushed his goggles into place and scanned the scene with practiced precision. "Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice calm but commanding. "Thirteen, get the students out of here. This isn't a training exercise anymore."

Shinji didn't argue. His gaze flicked to the fog again, watching for any movement beyond the initial wave of villains. His instincts screamed that something bigger was coming, something worse.

And then it came.

Three figures emerged from the fog, three….No two people and... one thing.

The first was a man covered in hands, each one gripping parts of his body like grotesque accessories. He scratched his neck in a jerky, unsettling motion, the habit almost looking like a nervous tic. His eyes scanned the area, full of malicious curiosity, a predator toying with the idea of tearing its prey apart.

The second figure exuded an eerie calm, it was a massive form made of the same swirling purple fog as the portal itself. The air around him seemed heavier, as though his presence alone was warping reality.

But it was the third figure that made Shinji's stomach knot, a towering monstrosity that defied anything remotely human.

The creature stood at least ten feet tall, its body rippling with unnatural musculature that seemed almost too dense for its frame. Its skin was an ashen gray, with veins glowing faintly blue, pulsating with a rhythm that mirrored its deep, rumbling growl. The exposed brain on its head glistened with a wet sheen. Its eyes, if they could even be called that, were glowing slits of cold, electric blue, unblinking and filled with an emptiness that unnerved him.

Long, clawed fingers twitched at its sides, each one tipped with jagged, obsidian-like nails. Every movement it made was deliberate, its sheer mass shifting with an almost mechanical precision. The beast radiated destruction, from the jagged scars etched across its massive frame to the way it planted its feet with bone-shaking weight.

Shinji had spent enough time around kaiju to recognize one when he saw it. The constant hue of blue energy, a hallmark of kaiju in Shinji's experience, glowed faintly across its frame, from the veins pulsing with power to the faint aura of luminescence that seemed to seep from its pores. Its presence alone sent a chill through the air, a suffocating pressure that made it hard to breathe.

Shinji's eyes locked onto it, his fists clenching so tightly they trembled. There was no mistaking it, this was a kaiju, twisted and wrong, a mockery of the creatures he knew all too well. The sight of it made his stomach churn, not just from the sheer size and presence of the thing, but from the sickening realization of what it represented.

Someone was playing with life.

Someone had taken the raw, terrifying force of a kaiju and warped it into this abomination. The energy coursing through its body wasn't natural; it was artificial, manipulated. The gleaming blue veins that pulsed along its grotesque form seemed alive in the worst way possible like something barely contained and seething with malice.

This wasn't just a creature of destruction, it was a deliberate act of creation, someone's experiment. Someone had dared to toy with kaiju, to twist their power and essence into a weapon of their own design. And now, here it stood, a monstrous testament to their hubris.

Shinji's breath hitched as he watched the kaiju flex its massive, clawed hand, each movement deliberate and precise, like it was aware of its purpose. His chest tightened as he considered the implications. Whoever was behind this wasn't just dangerous, they were playing God. They had molded life, corrupted it, and unleashed it without care for the consequences.

It wasn't just a kaiju. It was an insult, a mockery, a perversion of something that should never have been. And it was here, now, staring them down, its very presence daring anyone to challenge its maker's arrogance.

It made Shinji equal parts sick and angry. There was a certain level of villainy he could unfortunately understand, stealing to eat, fighting to survive, the kinds of things born out of desperation or cruelty forced on someone. He could even wrap his mind around the thought of someone lashing out because of deep-rooted pain or a desire for revenge. But this? This was something else entirely.

This was deliberate. This was cold, calculated malice. Someone had taken a kaiju and fused it with what Shinji could only assume was a human, a twisted amalgamation of monstrous power and fragile, frail humanity. The towering figure before him, part beast, part man, moved with a grotesque, unnatural grace, its limbs contorting as if they weren't meant to bend that way. Its body was marked by jagged lines where the fusion had taken place, scars, and seams where the human parts had been welded together with the raw, unstoppable might of a kaiju's brute force.

Shinji could see it now, human features mixed with the kaiju's body, its massive limbs draped in thick, calloused skin like something pulled from a nightmare. The creature's head was split between a distorted, human-like face and the beak of a bird, its eyes glowing with an unearthly, eerie light that sent chills down Shinji's spine. He could hear it breathing, its chest expanding and contracting with a guttural noise as if trying to process the air it was taking in. It wasn't natural. It wasn't right.

What kind of twisted mind could do this? What kind of person would turn a Human into an abomination, toying with its very existence like this? The sheer cruelty of it made Shinji sick to his core. This wasn't an experiment to understand or evolve. It was something far darker. Someone had played God, using lives as their materials. This... this was a warping of life itself. A violation that demanded retribution.

"Just like you were huh? Though this one is more artificial" A voice, the specter's voice came from the back of his mind.

Shinji's stomach twisted into a knot as he stared at the grotesque creature before him as he processed the words. It was hard to breathe, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an unshakable burden. The chilling thought crept up again, one that he had buried deep within his mind.

What if he had stayed merged with Striker? What if All Might hadn't pulled him out of that cockpit? What if that bond between him and the growth had become permanent?

Would he have become something like this? A hideous, unnatural fusion of man and monster, an abomination of life? The question lingered in his mind, like a haunting specter, gnawing at him with the sharpness of a blade. If the growth had been left to fully take control, would he have been lost to that same twisted fate?

The growth inside him, that dark, unrelenting force, had sought to consume him from within, but All Might had pulled him out before it could completely take hold.

What if it hadn't been enough?

The thought was suffocating. His breath caught in his throat, his vision blurring as the monstrous creature before him seemed to loom, both in size and in the dark reality of what it represented. He couldn't shake the gnawing fear that, if things had gone just a little differently, just a little worse, he could have been the one standing before them, something twisted and broken. A monster in its own right.

"What do you mean, 'If it had gone differently'?" the specter mocked, its voice dripping with derision. "You already are a monster. You just refuse to face it." It let out a cruel laugh, echoing in Shinji's mind, the sound sending a chill through him.

And yet, the specter's words clung to him like tar. "You already are a monster." The phrase circled his mind, threatening to drown him in doubt.

Wasn't he? The damage he'd caused, the fear he saw in people's eyes when they looked at him, the way he sometimes felt more like a weapon than a human, wasn't that proof enough?

But as his gaze swept across his classmates, he caught their expressions. Fear, yes, but also determination. They weren't backing down. They were ready to fight. He saw Uraraka steadying herself, her hands clenched into fists. He saw Midoriya's trembling resolve, his body tense yet unyielding. Even Aizawa, standing at the forefront, radiated an unshakable confidence.

They didn't see him as a monster. They saw him as one of them.

"No," Shinji muttered, his voice low but firm. He ignored the specter's chuckle, focusing on the here and now. "Not today."

Aizawa's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Stay focused. Stick to the plan. Protect each other, and don't let your guard down."

Shinji nodded, his grip tightening as he prepared himself. The abomination in front of them wasn't just a nightmare; it was a challenge. A challenge he wasn't about to let define him.

Because monster or not, he wasn't going to let this thing win.

Shinji turned toward Kaminari. "Kaminari, can you contact the school using that radio?"

Kaminari fumbled with the device clipped to his belt, frantically adjusting the frequency as static crackled through the speaker. He pressed the transmit button. "UA, come in! This is Class 1-A. We're under attack at the USJ! Requesting, "

The transmission was abruptly cut off by a high-pitched screech, the static growing louder. Kaminari winced, pulling the radio away from his ear. "It's jammed! I can't get through!"

Shinji's jaw tightened, his eyes darting toward the mist, who remained an ominous presence near the exit. The purple mist swirled ominously as if it was watching their every move. "Of course, they'd jam communications," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration.

"Can't you just go back to your big form? That would grab their attention, right?" Mineta asked, his voice trembling with fear, his wide eyes darting nervously around the chaos.

"No," Shinji replied firmly, his tone clipped but steady. "You don't realize how massive I can actually get. If I did that, I'd end up crushing most, if not all, of you. On top of that, I'd break through the ceiling, and this building might not be able to handle that kind of damage, it could collapse entirely." His piercing gaze locked onto Mineta, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "That's not a risk I'm willing to take."

He stepped forward, his voice steady but urgent as chaos erupted around them. "Iida, you and me, we make a break for the exit. Someone needs to get out and call for reinforcements. You're the fastest one here, and if I can get clear, I'll shift to full size. The school will have no choice but to notice."

Before they could act, a deep, calm voice spoke from behind them, sending a chill down their spines. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, little heroes."

The mist coalesced into a humanoid figure, appearing out of nowhere to block the exit. Tendrils of black fog swirled ominously around its form, exuding a palpable menace. "We are the League of Villains, and though I know it's impolite, we've decided to invite ourselves to this joyous occasion."

The figure's tone was eerily polite, mocking even as if the chaos and fear were nothing more than an amusing game. The mist shifted and rippled, filling the space with an oppressive weight that seemed to seep into the air.

The mist figure chuckled, an unsettling sound that echoed unnaturally as it stared them down. "Bravado will get you nowhere young heroes. You're all trapped, and your reinforcements are beyond reach."

Without warning, the mist surged forward, cutting off any chance of escape. Shinji reacted instantly, he transformed his arm slamming Titan Reedemer's wrecking ball arm into the ground with a deafening crash, creating a shockwave that momentarily dispersed the fog. "Iida, go! Now!"

Iida didn't hesitate this time. His engines roared to life as he dashed forward, weaving through the swirling tendrils of mist with incredible speed. The figure shifted, attempting to block his path, but Shinji was relentless. He swung his wrecking ball arm in a wide arc, scattering the fog just enough to give Iida an opening.

The sound of Iida's engines faded into the distance as he broke through the exit. The mist figure's form rippled with irritation but quickly regained its composure. "A clever move," it said, its voice dripping with menace. "But futile."

Before Shinji could respond, the mist expanded violently, engulfing everything around him. The world twisted and churned, and he felt himself being pulled as though dragged through an unseen current.

The mist swirled violently around him, the disorienting sensation of being dragged through an unseen current gripping his entire being. He stumbled forward, gasping for air, his surroundings spinning in a way that brought back a flood of unwelcome memories.

The breach. It felt just like going through the breach.

"Shinji!" Momo's voice cut through the haze as she steadied herself nearby. Kaminari and Jirou stood behind her, their postures tense as they tried to take in their surroundings.

"Where... are we?" Jirou muttered, her eyes darting around the rocky mountain zone.

Before Shinji could Speak, a group of villains emerged from the shadows, their smug grins and predatory stances making their intentions clear. One of them stepped forward, a twisted smirk on their face, and grabbed Shinji's shoulder.

The touch snapped him out of his daze.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Shinji Growled, a growl that promised violence.

In an instant, his body twisted and expanded, This transformation was lean, more compact, but no less menacing. Standing at seven feet tall, his Crimson Typhoon form radiated power, his glowing eyes scanning the villains with a cold, calculating glare.

Before the villain could react, Shinji moved. His massive, segmented arm swung in a clean arc, slamming into his attacker with bone-crushing force. The villain flew backward, hitting the rocks with a dull thud and crumpling unconscious.

"Shinji!" Jirou shouted, stepping back as the surrounding villains closed in.

Shinji's glowing eyes narrowed, locking onto the remaining villains, his form brimming with barely restrained aggression. His pulse quickened, the metallic hum of his transformation vibrating through the air as his body adjusted to his new, compact yet deadly state, but despite the forms, sleek, muscular, and almost perfectly humanoid shape, was no less intimidating.

"Shinji, focus!" Momo called out, her voice urgent as she positioned herself beside him, her staff at the ready. "We need to stick together!"

Kaminari stepped up as well, his usual playful demeanor nowhere to be seen. "Yeah, we can't just take them all on like this!" He crackled with electricity, ready to unleash a storm at a moment's notice.

Shinji's gaze flicked to Momo and Kaminari, his expression flickering between a grim determination and barely contained rage. His eyes scanned the group of villains, counting them quickly, calculating their strengths, and weaknesses, the way he had been trained.

"Trained by whom, might I ask? no one taught you, you taught yourself." The specter's sing-song tone echoed inside his mind.

The words fanned the flames of his rage, the fire in his chest growing hotter with every syllable. He could feel his muscles coil, ready to explode, his instincts pushing him toward violence. "You think I don't know that?" he growled, his voice low and venomous. "You think I don't know I'm alone in this? That everything I've done, everything I've become, I did it myself?"

The specter's words pressed against his mind, trying to worm their way deeper, to drag him into the abyss of self-doubt and fury. But Shinji, his chest rising and falling with the pulse of his transformation, forced his focus to the here and now. He slammed his hand against his temple as if trying to physically push the voice out of his head.

"Shut up," he muttered under his breath, his teeth clenched tight. The specter's laughter echoed in his mind, but he shoved it aside, refocusing on the immediate danger. He could feel the tingling sensation of the transformation fading.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and looked around.

Momo, Kaminari, and Jirou were still here, shaken but holding their ground. Villains lurked in the shadows, but none dared approach just yet. They had seen his power, felt his rage. He could already hear their whispers, their uncertainty. The hesitation.

Shinji's eyes hardened as he locked eyes with Momo, her expression still tense but filled with resolve. "We need to stick together," he said, his voice low and filtered by his transformation. "Focus."

Kaminari let out a nervous laugh, though it was clear he was still on edge. "Well, I think we've got a pretty good reason to focus now."

Jirou gave a small nod, her hands crackling with the energy of her own quirk, clearly ready to take action.

Shinji turned his back on the specter, pushing it further away, the lingering sensation of its presence like a fading echo. He couldn't afford to be distracted now. Not when his friends, his teammates, were still out here in this dangerous place.

His mind raced, quickly formulating a plan. "We make a push for the stairs," he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "We need to regroup, We can't let them drag us further into this trap."

Momo gave him a sharp look, her brow furrowed. "What about the others?"

Shinji's jaw tightened. He couldn't afford to waste time thinking about everything. "We deal with what's in front of us first. If we don't make it out, there won't be anyone left to save."

He glanced up at the glass sky, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him. But it wasn't fear that took hold of him. No. It was something stronger. Determination. A desire to protect.

"Ready?" he asked, his gaze steady, focused. The others nodded, and without another word, they charged forward, moving as one toward the only chance they had, escape.

The air was thick with tension, a palpable sense of urgency and fear hanging over the battlefield as Shinji, Momo, Kaminari, and Jirou clashed with the relentless waves of villains. Each strike, each blast of power, reverberated through the rocky mountain zone, their only goal was to survive long enough to escape. The surroundings were a blend of jagged cliffs and loose rock, the uneven terrain making their movements even more precarious. The villains seemed endless, pouring from every direction, and with each one that fell, more took their place, determined to bring them down.

Kaminari, his body humming with electricity, was the first to break the silence, a bolt of energy crackling from his fingertips. "Gotcha!" he yelled triumphantly as a villain was blasted off their feet, but the victory was fleeting. The pulse of energy had barely dissipated when his eyes darted nervously over his shoulder. "This isn't going to end anytime soon," he muttered, voice strained. The numbers were overwhelming. He had already unleashed several powerful attacks, but there was no sign of letting up.

"We need to get out of here before it gets worse!" Jirou shouted, urgency clear in her voice. Her earphone jacks clicked into place, and before anyone could respond, she released a powerful blast from her boots, the shockwave of sound slamming into the enemy ranks. The blast sent several villains sprawling, their bodies skidding across the rocky ground. Silence descended for a brief moment, only for the eerie hum of the battlefield to pick up again as Jirou fixed them all with a tense stare. "Keep moving, guys. The longer we stay, the worse this gets. We're sitting ducks if we don't move." Her voice cracked slightly, betraying the anxiety she tried to suppress.

Shinji, his crimson form cutting through the chaos like a whirlwind, responded to the mounting pressure with calm fury. His movements were sharp and fluid, every strike executed with deadly precision, his blows carrying the full weight of his anger and frustration. He sent villain after villain crashing into the ground, their bodies left unconscious or crumpled in the wake of his destructive power. But even with his overwhelming strength, the sheer number of enemies was beginning to wear on him. He wasn't just fighting them physically, he was fighting time, the mounting sense of being surrounded on all sides closing in with every passing second. His breath grew heavier, but his resolve never wavered. However, the reality was sinking in: no matter how strong he was, staying in one spot for too long meant they would inevitably be overwhelmed.

"We're making progress, but it's taking too long," Shinji muttered his voice, a low growl that carried the weight of his frustration. His movements were becoming more vicious, and less measured, as if he was pushing himself harder than before. Another villain was sent flying, but his eyes remained fixed on the horizon the flickering lights of his classmate's own battles, so tantalizingly close, but still too far away. It seemed unreachable. They were moving forward, yes, but it felt like they were sinking deeper into a trap.

Momo, ever the tactician, was working relentlessly to create a path through the chaos. Her mind never stopped, calculating every move, determining which enemy needed to be neutralized next. Her gadgets were an extension of her body, each one carefully deployed with deadly accuracy. One moment, a taser sent a villain into a stunned daze, the next, her collapsible staff spun in her hands as she knocked another enemy to the ground with a swift strike. She was fast, efficient, and decisive, but there was one truth she couldn't ignore. "We need to stay focused and stick together! No distractions!" she urged, her voice steady but tight with the mounting stress of the situation. Her eyes never stopped scanning, never stopped calculating the next move. But she knew the truth. The longer they stayed, the more likely they would be overwhelmed. The villains were coming at them from every direction, relentless and never tiring.

Shinji's instincts were hard to shake, and no matter how much he tried to focus on the battle at hand, the old habits kicked in with an intensity he couldn't quite suppress. Staying in one place for too long, was something he never got used to. It always ended badly, always left him vulnerable. The memories were like a weight on his shoulders, pressing him down as his mind tried to escape them. He had learned the hard way that staying static in a fight was a surefire way to find yourself outflanked, surrounded, and overwhelmed.

But this, this wasn't like any normal fight. The pressure wasn't just physical; it was mental, and psychological, gnawing at him from the inside out. Every time his eyes flickered to the edges of the battlefield, every time he pivoted for another strike, the flashes came. Teeth, claws, the sound of something massive moving just out of sight, the dark silhouette of towering trees, sights that weren't from this place, from this time. The gray skies, endless and oppressive, loomed over him in the corners of his vision, reminding him of the breaches he had barely survived. The flashes were relentless, those memories clawing at his focus, threatening to pull him back into that dark place where he was no longer in control.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to push the images back. They weren't real. They couldn't be real. Yet, each time he twisted his body to land another hit, they crept closer, the vivid flashes tearing at his concentration.

The enemy, though relentless, wasn't the only force he had to contend with. The battle wasn't just physical, it was a mental war, too. Every calculated blow, every punch he threw, was tinged with hesitation. He had to make sure he didn't kill anyone. And had to keep his focus, to stop the proverbial dam from breaking.

"Keep it together, Shinji," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the chaos around him. His teeth clenched, and his body moved on instinct, narrowly avoiding an attack from a villain charging at him. His fist lashed out reflexively, connecting with the villain's ribs, the satisfying crack of impact a fleeting reassurance. But even as the enemy crumpled, the unease gnawed at him. He couldn't stop. Not now. His team needed him. They were counting on him to pull them through this.

Yet, the tension kept mounting. Every movement felt heavy, like wading through thick, invisible sludge. His breaths came faster, his chest heaving as his mind threatened to betray him. Flashes of memories, unbidden and vivid, clawed their way to the surface. The towering trees of that cursed forest loomed in his mind, their gnarled branches curling like skeletal hands. He could almost feel the oppressive weight of the gray skies above, like a shroud closing in around him. He wasn't there anymore, he knew that, Did he? But the memories didn't care. They wrapped around his thoughts like vines, pulling him back.

Shinji's body kept moving, every strike and dodge precise, his combat instincts honed from years of the very thing he was trying to keep at bay. But his mind… his mind was a battlefield of its own. The echoes of screams, of splintering wood and snapping bones, rang in his ears. His vision blurred, the present and the past merging in a chaotic swirl. His surroundings warped in his perception, was he still in the rocky mountain zone, or had he been dragged back to that land of nightmares?

A villain lunged at him, and his body reacted before his mind caught up, his fist driving into their sternum with enough force to send them flying. But the impact didn't ground him; it only deepened the divide between his physical actions and his spiraling thoughts.

The memory surged sharper this time, vivid and cruel, but his body was locked in the chaos of the real world. Shinji ducked beneath a spray of rubble as a villain hurled a chunk of mountain rock his way. Crimson Typhoon's fist shot out instinctively, deflecting the debris mid-air before it could crush him. His breaths came quick and shallow, his legs burning as he scrambled up the uneven terrain.

And yet, the forest clawed at his mind, pulling him back under its twisted canopy.

His younger self crouched low, blood dripping from Striker, his hands trembling. The scent of decay choked the air, and the ground beneath him pulsed like a living thing. The cries of friends echoed faintly in his mind, distorted and distant, but friends? That didn't make sense. He'd been alone in the breach.

"Shinji, focus!" a sharp voice brought him back, jerking his attention to the present.

A villain lunged at him with a jagged blade, their speed unnaturally fast. Shinji spun to evade, slashing out in a tight arc. Sparks flew as his hand met the blade, the force reverberating up his arm. He gritted his teeth, twisting his body to absorb the impact, but the weight of the memory threatened to slow him down.

"Too slow, Shinji," a voice hissed in his head, the forest creeping back in.

He stumbled slightly, the mountain terrain beneath him suddenly feeling like the pulsating, rotted ground of the breach. Another villain charged, this one wielding fire that blazed across his field of vision. Shinji barely managed to leap back, the flames licking at his feet.

"Get it together," he growled under his breath, his fist flashing as he counterattacked. Crimson Typhoon's tri-fists tore through the villain's defenses, forcing them to retreat.

But the forest wouldn't let him go. His younger self turned in the breach, his breaths ragged, and the cries grew louder.

"You left us!" the voices screamed, sharp and accusing.

"No one was there!" Shinji snapped aloud, his voice startling the villains around him. His hands trembled as he blocked a swing aimed at his side, His fists locking against another weapon. He pushed back hard, forcing his opponent off balance.

The air in the breach was suffocating, thick with decay. The branches above twisted unnaturally, blocking out what little light there was. Why do I hear them? he thought, his mind spiraling. There was no one in the breach. You know that. You were alone.

Another explosion jolted him back. Rocks rained down from above as a villain blasted apart the mountain face, sending chunks of debris tumbling toward him. Shinji dove to the side, landing hard on his shoulder. His left hand clawed at the ground for purchase, pulling himself upright just in time to meet another attack.

"Shinji!" a voice called out. "Move!"

He barely reacted, his arm sweeping upward to deflect a heavy blow aimed at his head. The clash sent sparks skittering across the darkened battlefield. His body was moving, but his mind was still stuck, torn between two worlds.

In the breach, his younger self froze as the voices grew louder, overlapping.

"Don't you dare leave us!"

"Faster, Shinji! Faster!"

"They're not real," he whispered, his voice trembling as he fought off another strike in the real world. "They're not."

But his footing slipped, and a villain's fist connected with his side, sending him sprawling. He rolled instinctively, Striker carving into the earth as he scrambled to his feet, but the impact rattled him.

The cries of his friends grew deafening in the breach, their voices twisted and accusatory. The weight of their words settled deep in his chest, dragging him down.

"You were too weak," the voices spat, venomous and cruel.

"No!" Shinji roared, his voice cracking as he lashed out wildly. The villains hesitated, thrown off by the sheer desperation of his attack. He pressed forward, striking again and again, his movements erratic but relentless.

The mountain air was cold, biting against his skin, but all he could feel was the suffocating heat of the breach, the decay and rot clinging to him like a second skin.

"You let us die!" the voices shrieked.

Shinji froze mid-strike, his body trembling, his breaths ragged. The villain he was fighting smirked, preparing to deliver a finishing blow, but Shinji's left arm shot up reflexively. The strike was wild but powerful, throwing the villain back.

His vision blurred, the breach and the mountain bleeding together into one chaotic nightmare. The cries of his friends and the jeers of the villains mingled, a cacophony that threatened to drown him.

"You're not real," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the forest and the voices loomed larger, refusing to let him go.

"No," Shinji growled under his breath, his voice rough and trembling. He slammed his foot into the ground as if to anchor himself in the present. The rocky terrain beneath him crumbled slightly, the sound breaking through the ghostly whispers in his mind. He wasn't there anymore. He wasn't.

But the memories wouldn't let go.

A villain's wild swing snapped him back just enough to react, his left arm blocking the blow as he drove his elbow into their gut. They staggered back, but Shinji didn't even watch them fall. His gaze darted around the battlefield, each shadow seeming to take on the shape of the forest's cursed silhouettes.

The oppressive weight of the flashbacks pressed harder against him, suffocating in its intensity. His muscles ached not just from the fight but from the effort of resisting the pull of his own mind. Every villain he struck down felt like a phantom, a shade of the horrors he'd faced back then. And worse, the deeper he sank into the memories, the more the present seemed to fade as if he were teetering on the edge of losing himself completely.

The trees. They were everywhere now, no longer confined to his mind. The battlefield twisted and shifted, the rocky cliffs giving way to the towering forest of his past. Shinji's breaths quickened, shallow and erratic, as the smell of earth and rot filled his nose. He could hear them, his friends, screaming, pleading, blaming him for not saving them.

"You froze, Shinji. You hesitated. You failed."

His grip tightened, his knuckles white as his fists trembled. "Stop," he whispered hoarsely, but the accusations grew louder, deafening. His eyes darted wildly, the villains around him blurring into grotesque, shadowy figures. Each movement they made seemed to mock him, their distorted laughter echoing in his ears.

His knees buckled for a moment, but he caught himself before falling. A sharp sting lanced through his palm, his nails digging into his skin, drawing blood. The pain brought a sliver of clarity, and he latched onto it desperately. He couldn't let this consume him. Not here. Not now.

But as he looked up, the memory consumed him entirely. He was there again, in the forest clearing, surrounded by the bodies of his fallen comrades. Their eyes stared at him, empty and accusing. The oppressive gray sky bore down on him, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart.

"Shinji!" a voice cut through the haze, sharp and desperate.

His head snapped toward the sound, and the vision shattered like glass, pulling him back into the present. Momo stood a few feet away, her expression a mixture of concern and urgency. "We need you!" she shouted, her voice trembling slightly. "Snap out of it!"

Shinji blinked, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The forest was gone. The villains were real. His team was depending on him.

He straightened, his body trembling but his resolve hardening. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice carried a hollow edge. He forced himself to focus, to push past the memories clawing at the edges of his mind. His team needed him, and he would not fail them. Not this time.

He turned to face his teammates, his jaw clenched with resolve. "Kaminari," Shinji said, voice sharp with urgency, "can you cover this whole field in electricity? Clear the way for us?"

Kaminari hesitated for a split second, his hand crackling with potential energy, but doubt flickered in his eyes. "Wait a second… if I do that, You'll get caught in the blast too."

Shinji's eyes narrowed as his mind raced. The situation was reaching a boiling point, and they needed a solution fast. He glanced at Momo, hope stirring in his chest. "Yaoyorozu," he said urgently, "can you make something to shield us from the blast? Something big enough to protect us, but also strong enough to block the electricity?"

Momo's brow furrowed in concentration as she quickly analyzed the battlefield. "I can make something, but it needs to be large enough to cover all of us, and the electricity will be difficult to block. But… we don't have many options left."

"Just do it!" Jirou yelled as yet another burst of sound fired into the villains.

Without wasting another moment, Momo extended her hands, the beginnings of her creation forming before them. The fabric of the shield materialized, thick and durable, stretching outward as Momo shaped it into a massive, protective blanket. The material was unlike anything they had seen before, ready to withstand the force of Kaminari's electricity.

"Shinji," Momo said, her voice steady but urgent, "you'll have to shrink down to your regular size. Shinji hesitated for a brief moment, his mind racing as the weight of his decision pressed heavily on him. With a single, grim nod, he let go of the Crimson Typhoon transformation. His towering, seven-foot frame shrank down, returning to his regular size, a feeling of vulnerability creeping in with every inch. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, and for a fleeting second, it felt like the world around him was closing in. The surge of power, the heightened senses, gone.

He clenched his fists, fighting against the creeping fear and the wave of weakness that hit him. It was the only choice. His body still trembled, but he forced it to still. The team needed him. He couldn't afford to hesitate any longer.

As Momo adjusted the blanket, ensuring it covered every corner, every angle, and reinforced it for maximum protection, Shinji shot a glance at Kaminari. "Ready?"

Kaminari gave a small nod, though his eyes still reflected concern. "Yeah, I think so. Just… make sure it holds up, Momo."

Momo's lips tightened in focus as she steadied the blanket, the massive shield pulsing with energy as the surrounding villains closed in, unaware of what was coming. "This should hold. The electricity should pass through without harming us."

Shinji felt a tense moment of silence stretch between them. Then, Kaminari let out a deep breath, his hands sparking with pent-up power. He launched his electric blast toward the villains. The air hummed with energy as the massive surge tore through the space, arcing toward their enemies with shocking force.

The fabric crackled and buzzed with the electricity, but it held steady, the powerful blast absorbed and redirected by Momo's protective shield. The force was overwhelming, the air thick with the scent of ozone, but the shield kept them safe, the group untouched by the devastating wave.

The crackling electricity dissipated, leaving only the smell of ozone lingering in the air as the final surge of power echoed through the battlefield. Villains staggered and collapsed, some knocked unconscious, others thrown violently from their feet by the force of the blast. The ground trembled from the shockwave, the echoes of the blast still reverberating through the rocky mountain zone.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the kind that came after the storm, broken only by the sound of labored breaths and the distant groans of the defeated.

Shinji stood, now back to his human form, his crimson transformation faded into the shadows of the past. His chest heaved slightly from exertion, and his hands were shaking. But his eyes remained cold and focused. He glanced over at Momo, her expression steady, and Kaminari, who was still recovering from his massive outburst.

"Nice work," Shinji said, his voice rough and shaky, but edged with genuine appreciation. "All of you."

Kaminari let out a long, drawn-out sigh, his body still crackling with residual energy. "Weeeeeeeeh..." he muttered, eyes glazed over, his hair singed and his face a picture of exhaustion. The blast had taken more out of him than he'd expected.

Shinji barely spared him a glance, his gaze hardening as he scanned the area for any remaining threats. The villains had been cleared, but there was always the chance that more were waiting, lurking in the shadows. He couldn't afford to be distracted now, not with everything still on the line.

"Stay focused," he muttered more to himself than the others, ignoring Kaminari's near-braindead state. The electricity had done its job, but it hadn't taken care of everything. They were close, so close to the exit, but it felt like every step forward was a battle in itself.

"We're almost there," he said, his voice low but unwavering, cutting through the haze of exhaustion and the lingering tension. "Let's finish this and get to the exit. We can't afford any more delays."

Jirou, standing nearby, wiped some sweat from her brow, her usual cool demeanor slightly frayed by the intensity of the battle. "Don't jinx it," she muttered, glancing toward the still-distant exit.

Momo nodded, her eyes scanning the landscape as she adjusted the large fabric shield she'd created to ensure it still held firm. The weight of the battle had not been lost on her either, but she was focused, and determined. "Right," she said, her voice steady, though the strain in her tone wasn't missed. "We're close. Let's keep pushing."

Shinji's eyes flickered toward the distant light, the stairs still in view but somehow still out of reach. The feeling of being so near yet so far gnawed at him, but it only strengthened his resolve. They couldn't slow down now, not with so much at stake.

Shinji's voice cut through the tense silence as he looked back at Momo and Kaminari, his tone sharp with urgency. "Cover yourselves and Kaminari," he ordered, his eyes scanning the horizon with a cold, determined focus. "I'm going to go make sure it's clear."

Momo's lips pressed into a thin line, her hand tightening around her staff. She nodded, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes. "Be careful, Shinji," she said, her voice steady but laden with unspoken worry. She didn't need to say more, Shinji could feel it. But there was no time for hesitation now.

"Yeah," Jirou added, her voice firm but laced with an undercurrent of concern, "Don't do anything reckless."

He didn't wait for another word. He was already moving, the weight of his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as his senses honed in on his next objective. The fight wasn't over, and his instincts were kicking in, he couldn't afford to waste any more time.

His footsteps were light but purposeful as he moved toward the edge of the cliff. The rocky outcrop beneath his feet crumbled as he approached, but he paid it no mind. His mind was already focused on what he could see in the distance, the battle still raged below, but his gaze was drawn to two figures in the midst of it all.

It was Aizawa. And that Thing.