The months had passed like a dream. The publication of My Hero Academia in Weekly Shōnen Jump had been an immediate and resounding success. Readers were captivated by the poignant story of Izuku Midoriya, by this world of heroes and superpowers that seemed both familiar and innovative. Marcus Kane had become a respected name in the industry, a foreign prodigy with inexplicable talent and disconcerting good looks.
He had moved to a spacious, bright apartment in Shibuya, with a proper artist's studio offering a stunning view of the urban chaos. That morning, he was savoring a daifuku, the sweet red bean paste melting on his tongue, while proofing the pages for the next chapter. A rare sense of fulfillment filled him. He had found a balance: Marcus Kane, the celebrated mangaka, and Utopian, the discreet hero of Tokyo's rooftops.
And it was in this moment of perfect tranquility that everything shifted.
It started with a deep, low rumble, seeming to come from the very bowels of the earth. More than a sound, it was a vibration rising through the building's foundations, a monstrous trembling that made the teacup on his desk rattle.
The building shook. First a slow swaying, then increasingly violent jolts. The windows rattled, books fell from their shelves. Cries of panic rose from the street.
TSUNAMI WARNING. EVACUATE TO HIGH GROUND IMMEDIATELY.
Marcus's face froze. This wasn't just an earthquake. It was the earthquake. His superhuman senses, which he had learned to moderate, suddenly opened wide, flooded with a wave of horror.
He could hear it. The enormity of the earth's crust tearing apart off the coast. The roar of the ocean receding, preparing its fatal blow. And most of all, he could hear the voices. Thousands, hundreds of thousands of voices. Screams, cries, calls for help rising from the entire Tōhoku region, a chorus of terror that pierced his mind.
His League phone vibrated frantically, but he already knew. This was beyond any protocol.
Without a second's hesitation, he rushed onto his balcony. In an instant, the white and red costume of Utopian replaced his civilian clothes, the scarlet cape snapping in the dust-charged air. His face, so often serene, was now a mask of absolute determination.
He launched into the air, slicing through the grey, turbulent sky. Below him, Tokyo was in chaos, but his target was farther, to the north. Where the true hell was about to be unleashed.
He flew at a speed he had never dared reach before, the sonic boom tearing through the sky above the crisis-stricken metropolis. In just minutes, he arrived over the coastline.
The sight was of biblical horror.
A wall of black water, as high as a thirty-story building, advanced inexorably toward the land. It swallowed everything in its path: houses, cars, boats, rice paddies. The roar was deafening, a primal roar that drowned out all other sounds.
And within that aquatic chaos, the voices. Families trapped on roofs, children screaming, elderly people struggling against the icy current.
Utopian dove.
He shot towards a submerged house, only its roof visible, where a woman was desperately waving a white cloth. The water, icy and full of debris, hit his body with incredible force. But he resisted, shattering the door with a blow from his shoulder.
"I'm here to help!" he shouted in perfect Japanese, his voice carrying over the din.
He pulled out the woman and her baby, holding them close, and flew to higher ground, depositing them on a hill before immediately diving back in.
He became a force of nature unto himself. He ripped people from the furious currents, used his thermal vision to locate survivors trapped under floating debris, lifted giant beams crushing cars. His strength, designed for destruction, was channeled, focused, transformed into a frantic rescue tool.
But the scale of the disaster was overwhelming. For every person he saved, dozens more vanished beneath the dark waters. The wall of water continued its advance, destroying everything in its path.
As he took flight again after depositing a group of survivors, a familiar voice sounded in his communicator.
"Utopian, report." It was Batman's grave voice. "The League is mobilizing. Superman and Wonder Woman are handling the power plants. Flash and Green Lantern are managing coastal evacuations. Martian Manhunter is coordinating mental relief. You are our first responder in the critical zone."
Utopian, hovering in the air facing the aquatic monster, his clothes soaked and stained with mud, replied in a hoarse voice, never taking his eyes off the tsunami.
"The critical zone is everywhere. Send everything you have. I... I can't do it all."
For the first time since donning this costume, Utopian's power seemed insignificant against the fury of nature. The hero with the power of a god was confronted with his most fragile humanity, and the unbearable weight of lives he could not save.