Chapter 139 : A Wounded Dawn and the Dragon's Legacy

I awoke not to the sound of an alarm or the rays of the sun, but to silence. A total silence that felt so foreign after days filled with roars, explosions, and the rumbling of a collapsing mountain. I opened my eyes slowly, and the first thing I saw was a sterile white ceiling. I was in U.A.'s highly secure underground medical wing. The pain in my body had been replaced by an exhaustion so deep it felt like a part of my soul, an exhaustion born from pushing my body and power beyond their intended limits.

I looked at my arm. The faint, silvery scale-like patterns under my skin seemed slightly more pronounced, a permanent reminder of the draconic backlash. My healing ability had been working overtime, but there was a price to pay. Every time I used Incursio's regenerative or adaptive powers to an extreme, I felt a little less 'human' and a little more... 'dragon'.

My room door opened without a sound. All Might, in his skinny form, entered with Principal Nezu. Their faces showed immense relief, but also a deep sadness.

"Welcome back, Tatsumi-kun," Nezu said gently. "You've been asleep for almost two days."

"Two days...?" my voice was hoarse. "What about the others? Ryukyu-san?"

"Hero Ryukyu is alive," All Might said, and I felt a weight as heavy as a mountain lift from my shoulders. "She is in critical but stable condition. The doctors said that if your rescue team had been just a few minutes later, she wouldn't have made it. You saved her, my boy."

"We all saved her," I corrected.

"Indeed," Nezu said. "The reports from Edgeshot and Mirko were very clear. Without your sensory guidance, they would have never found her. Without your power's adaptation, they all would have frozen to death. And without your courage to face Re-Destro, they would have had no chance to escape." He looked at me. "The world will never know the details of what happened inside that mountain. The official report will state that it was a major victory for the heroes, albeit with many casualties. But we... we who were in the command room... we know the truth. You were the shadow commander who won this war for us."

The praise didn't feel like a victory. It felt like a burden. I thought of the heroes who were severely injured. I thought of Sir Nighteye's fate in the other timeline, and how thin the line was between total victory and total disaster.

"This victory came at a great cost," Nezu continued, as if reading my mind. "Dozens of pro heroes were killed or forced into early retirement. Public trust in heroes is at an all-time low. And worst of all... although Re-Destro and most of his lieutenants were captured, the remnants of the Meta Liberation Army and the League of Villains, including Tomura Shigaraki, managed to escape in the chaos. They have now become one larger, more dangerous faction: the Paranormal Liberation Front."

So, the war wasn't over. We had only won one major battle.

"You must rest and recover," All Might said. "The world will need you, sooner than you think."

As they left, I was left alone with my thoughts. I closed my eyes, and I felt something different. The echo of the original Tatsumi's soul within me now felt calmer, more integrated. I remembered the 'gift' of understanding he had given me in my near-death dream. A key to mastering Incursio.

A few days later, once my condition was stable enough, my friends from the "circle of trust" were allowed to visit me. Nejire, Momo, Uraraka, and Tsuyu entered my room, bringing with them the warmth and life of the outside world.

"You really scared us half to death!" Nejire said, lightly punching my arm, her eyes still a little red. She told me how she and the others had waited anxiously at U.A., only able to watch the vague news reports.

"We are all so proud of you, Tatsumi-kun," Uraraka said sincerely. "You and all the other heroes."

"We've decided," Momo said, her voice filled with a new resolve. "We won't just sit back anymore. We will train harder, so that next time, we can stand by your side on the battlefield, not just in the communication room."

I smiled, feeling our bond grow stronger than ever. We were no longer just classmates or secret allies. We were a team that had been through hell together.

After they left, I tried to train. Not physical training, but mental training. I lay on my bed, closed my eyes, and reached inward, toward the dragon's heartbeat that now felt like my own. I no longer begged or negotiated. I used the new understanding I had received. I imagined its form. Not a chaotic armor, but a perfect weapon. I imagined the spear Neuntote from my dreams.

I focused all my intent on my right arm. I felt energy flow, but this time, without the tearing pain. There was only a controlled, hot sensation. Slowly, on my arm, particles of black and red light began to swirl, weaving themselves into a shape. No longer an explosion, but a deliberate creation.

The process was slow and incredibly exhausting. After a few minutes, all that had formed was a small, unstable black dagger blade, which then disintegrated into dust. I was panting, sweat covering my forehead. But I had done it. I had managed to create something with pure will, without a trigger of danger. This was the first step.

In her new hideout, Akame was studying the data she had collected. She had found the connection between Yozakura and the MLA. But more importantly, she had witnessed the battle at Deika. She saw Tatsumi. She saw him lead, protect, and sacrifice himself. It was a strange mixture of the cold strategy of someone not from her world, and a self-sacrificing spirit so similar to the Tatsumi she knew. She realized she could no longer just observe him from afar. Their paths, somehow, were intertwined. She had to approach him again, but this time, not as an observer, but as a potential ally.

A few weeks passed. I was finally allowed out of the medical facility and back to the Alliance Heights dorm. The season had changed. The air felt colder. A new semester was about to begin. All of Japan was still in the process of recovering from the "War in the Mountains," and the atmosphere at U.A. felt more somber, more serious.

My first night back in my room, I stood in front of the mirror. I looked at my reflection. I still looked the same, but I felt like a completely different person. I raised my right hand. I took a deep breath, remembering the feeling of unity from my dream, the understanding that had been passed down to me.

I focused my will. This time, it was easier. The energy flowed from my chest to my arm smoothly. There was no pain. Only a controlled warmth. On my arm, the black armor began to form, not with an explosion, but with a fluid, elegant motion, as if liquid metal was shaping itself. The armor crept up my arm, past my hand, and then extended, hardened, becoming a perfect, stable, and sharp short sword blade.

I held my first real weapon. I swung it slowly. The movement felt natural, as if I had done it a thousand times. I stared at the black blade that reflected no light.

It doesn't roar or clang, I thought, feeling the quiet, deadly power in my hand. It only whispers of death.