Kyoto.
The city still breathed peacefully beneath the cloudy morning sky. The streets bustled with ordinary civilians, their footsteps echoing through alleys and avenues like the flow of a system pretending to be in balance. No one looked up. No one imagined what was about to happen.
Atop one of the tallest buildings in the city center, a solitary figure watched in absolute silence. Kei Uzuki. His body stood upright, unshaken by the cutting wind. His new attire contrasted with the gray urban landscape — a black formal suit, perfectly tailored, the button-up shirt tight against his chest, the pants neatly falling to his polished shoes. Over it all, a heavy black coat draped down past his knees, gently billowing in the wind gusts.
His eyes were fixed on the movement below. Children running. Distracted adults. The sounds of mundane life. But within Uzuki, everything was silent, cold, and precise. Without moving his lips, only with thought, he connected to Kaina through the telepathy that linked them as allies — and something more.
'I'm heading down, Kaina.'
The reply came quickly, clear as a breeze blowing directly into his mind.
'Alright.'
Kaina, the sniper with eyes as sharp as a rifle's shot, was already in position. She watched everything from the top of a distant building, scope adjusted, her breathing steady, fingers resting on the trigger with the delicacy of an artist about to paint her final masterpiece.
Back to Uzuki, his hand moved with supernatural fluidity. With an almost imperceptible motion, he pulled something from the air — or rather, from a rift torn between the planes of existence. A subtle tear in reality revealed the hilt of Yamato, the mystical katana only he could wield. The gleaming blade shimmered like light reflected on still water, even beneath the overcast sky.
The instant he touched the sword's hilt, something changed.
His eyes, once a deep brown, transmuted into a vivid, electric blue, as if each iris was a fragment of the sky charged with restrained lightning. White patterns emerged around his pupils — technological, symmetrical lines that moved and pulsed like living circuits, as though his mind was now connected to something beyond the physical world.
He leaned forward slightly.
And then, he dropped.
His black coat was pulled upward by the force of the air, and for a brief moment he resembled a dark specter descending from the heavens, with Yamato gripped in his right hand like a harbinger of the end.
The blade reflected the clouds as he plummeted at high speed, without hesitation, without fear. His eyes never left the target. His feet pointed toward the street, but it was the building behind him that would suffer the first blow.
Gripping Yamato with both hands for an instant, Kei whispered a single phrase that seemed to echo throughout the spiritual field surrounding him.
"Come to me..."
At the very moment the blade gleamed, a metallic sound cut through the air.
Ding!
A thin line — straight, precise, perfect — appeared on the concrete of the building he had just jumped from. A diagonal slash, like a cut made by a blade the world couldn't see, but deeply felt. And then, the structure responded.
The top of the building groaned. The concrete cried out.
The upper portion of the structure, where Kei had stood just seconds earlier, began to slowly slide to the side, separating from the rest of the building like sliced butter. The cut was too clean, too impossible — and yet, there it was — a line of destruction so surgical it seemed like the work of a divine entity.
Down below, the crowd finally began to notice. Screams erupted as the colossal piece of the building collapsed, and Kei Uzuki continued his free fall, blue eyes glowing like living stars, with chaos unfolding behind him like a curtain.
Then, Kei's face moved — a light, mischievous smile forming as a calm voice followed:
"Number 1!"
Boom!
The ground shook. A dry, massive sound tore through the air as a fist the size of a car came crashing down on Kei Uzuki, as if the sky itself had fallen in the form of a blow. The impact was brutal — strong enough to crush concrete and shatter vehicles — but Kei remained standing, sliding only a few meters backward, leaving a smoking trail across the asphalt.
His left arm was still raised, fist clenched, wrapped in a subtle aura of pressure. He had blocked the attack.
"Giants, huh?" he muttered as he lowered his arm, brushing off his coat sleeve as if dusting off dirt.
Across the street, Mount Lady — in her gigantic form — smiled confidently, her hand still lifted from the punch. Her presence was overwhelming, the shadows she cast swallowing most of the block. She took a deep breath, preparing for the next strike.
"That's right, now—"
Her sentence was cut short by a cry of pain.
"Argh!"
Blood sprayed in large quantities as a deep gash tore open on the hand that had struck Kei. The skin split like paper, and the exposed muscles throbbed, staining the ground below with red.
"Be careful," Kei said, his voice low — almost compassionate — but cold. He wiped the blood from Yamato's blade with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. The katana gleamed under the morning light like a deadly jewel.
"Even a scorpion can pose a threat to humans."
With an elegant and precise gesture, he slid Yamato back into its sheath. The silence in the air lasted only a second.
Clang!
He threw the katana into the air, the steel slicing the wind as it spun. Without wasting a moment, Kei dashed forward like a shadow. His body vanished in a black blur, almost impossible to follow with the naked eye. In an instant, he was in front of Mount Lady, who was still staggering from the pain.
Kei twisted his body and drove a punch straight into the heroine's stomach.
"Ughhhh!"
The sound that escaped Mount Lady was muffled. Her body doubled over instantly from the impact, and her face twisted in agony. The strike wasn't just fast. It was precise and lethal. The giant's abdomen collapsed under the force, and she fell to her knees, gasping, blood dripping from her lips.
At the same moment, Kei twisted in midair, still carried by the momentum of the punch, and caught Yamato as it fell. With a nearly ceremonial motion, he partially drew the blade from its sheath. A deadly gleam flashed from the revealed edge — and then, he descended in a straight line, like a divine arrow guided by the heavens themselves.
Ding!
The sound of metal sliding back into place echoed ominously. Time seemed to freeze for a moment.
A red line appeared on Mount Lady's shoulder. Moments later, her flesh split with a deep cut across the collarbone, sending thick streams of blood spraying out. She collapsed to the side, screaming in shock and pain, struggling to remain conscious.
Kei landed softly on the ground, his expression neutral. His coat still fluttered, now speckled with drops of blood.
"This reminds me of David and Goliath… from the Bible," he said as he calmly adjusted the sheath in his hands. "...except my slingshot cuts."
Kei began to walk away from the scene with firm, controlled steps — but his body suddenly twisted to the side in an almost instinctive dodge.
Several wooden tendrils burst through the asphalt around him, trying to seize him with sharp cracks and jagged splinters.
His body flowed between them with movements that looked more like a dance than combat. His Sixth Sense had already warned him seconds before the attack even took form.
"Seriously?" he said, mid-spin, dodging yet another attack with graceful ease. "I want the patriot here..."
He sidestepped another root trying to grab his ankle and sighed.
"...not the Halloween brats."
Ding!
A sharp, metallic sound echoed through the air — followed by a blinding flash that lit up the street. Flashes of bluish light gleamed like blades dancing in the air, and in a fraction of a second, all the wooden tendrils were severed. Kamui Woods' tentacles recoiled in spasms, sliced apart like beheaded serpents.
Atop a lamppost, Kamui Woods' silhouette appeared, panting as he observed the wreckage of his technique. Kei looked up at him with a neutral expression, but his eyes betrayed something colder: calculated contempt.
"Good firewood..." he muttered in thought, sizing up the hero. "...for a bonfire or a grill."
The sound of approaching footsteps and wheels filled the air. From the sides of the street, more heroes arrived, quickly surrounding the area. Death Arms, his muscles bulging; Yoroi Musha, his shining armor reflecting the morning sun; Gang Orca, exuding authority and tension... and a few other second-raters, all taking position.
"He's surrounded!" one shouted.
"That's the Tartarus escapee!" another exclaimed.
"Call All Might and Endeavor, now! We'll buy time here!"
"Beg—"
Zoom!
They didn't finish the sentence.
Kei vanished from normal sight, the sound of air being torn the only clue to his movement. In the blink of an eye, he was already in the middle of the group. His blue eyes, now glowing with runes and mystical circuits, scanned every face. Each of his movements stretched like an eternity compared to theirs.
To Kei, they were frozen.
Before anyone could react, a sweeping low kick slid across the ground, striking all of them at once with mathematical precision. Legs flew out from under them, bodies spun in the air like sacks of sand.
And before they could hit the ground, Kei spun on his heel and unleashed a single roundhouse kick, channeling his superhuman strength and lethal precision.
The impact was catastrophic.
A sonic boom echoed through the street as the heroes were sent flying like ragdolls, crashing into lampposts, walls, and slamming onto the cracked asphalt. One of them went straight through the windshield of an abandoned car.
Silence.
The only sound was the wind dragging an old newspaper across the pavement.
Kei came to a stop, resting Yamato on his right shoulder as if it were a natural extension of his body. His eyes scanned the human wreckage around him with cold indifference.
"Weak," he said in a low, yet clear tone. "But persistent… like cockroaches."
He tilted his head, watching the bodies still twitching.
"But since you're trying to buy time..."
The change was immediate.
The expression on Kei's face shifted drastically. His calm demeanor vanished, replaced by a cold, razor-sharp seriousness—like the blade of Yamato itself.
His blue eyes began to darken gradually, a thick black mist forming at the edges of his irises. The color spread like ink in water until his eyes were completely black, devoid of any trace of humanity.
"...then I'll make sure you get your time."
...
Toshinori Yagi, known to all as All Might, was sitting in a traditional Tokyo restaurant, enjoying a peaceful lunch. The food was still steaming, the atmosphere calm, filled with quiet conversations and the soft clinking of dishes. But then, his phone vibrated.
It was an urgent message from the hero task force's high command.
"The villain who freed the prisoners from Tartarus... has resurfaced."
He frowned, slowly reaching for the device. He was just about to stand up when something on the nearby television froze him in place.
The image that appeared on the news made Toshinori's eyes widen.
On screen, a surreal scene: Gang Orca, one of Japan's toughest heroes, was being held by the face, completely motionless. Around him, the bodies of several other heroes lay scattered across the ground like discarded pieces. At the center, the villain — Kei Uzuki — dressed in black, stood tall, as if all of it were no more than a minor inconvenience in his day.
Toshinori didn't hesitate. The restaurant's tranquility shattered with the sound of the floor cracking as he activated his muscular form, his silhouette expanding, his costume appearing in a flash.
"I can't let this continue... As the Symbol of Peace, I must end this now!"
The hero leapt.
The impact of his jump split the concrete beneath him, and All Might soared through the skies at incredible speed, a human missile headed straight for Kyoto.
Back in the city of Kyoto.
The smoke from previous battles still hung in the air like fog. Kei held Gang Orca with just one hand, the hero's face engulfed in his grip, the rest of his body dangling like a broken doll.
His eyes — pitch-black, corrupted divine eyes — studied Orca with a strange glimmer of curiosity.
"Did your power turn you into this?" he said calmly, unhurried. "People must think you're a villain because of it, right? That's sad... your power is incredible, and yet, you don't use it properly."
Kei tilted his head, gazing at the unconscious hero with a genuine sorrow in his voice.
"If you don't let your creativity flow, you'll never reach your true potential."
Releasing Gang Orca, Kei let the body fall onto the asphalt. The impact echoed with a dull thud. He then turned his gaze to the street around him.
It was completely empty.
No civilians. No heroes. Only the distant sound of sirens and a cold wind sweeping through the alleys. Kei remained silent for a few moments. Boredom was rising inside him like a dark tide. Without All Might there, all of this was starting to feel like a waste of time.
He thought of Kaina.
He wanted to see her again.
He raised his hand, ready to send a mental message through telepathy, but before he could summon his power…
========================
Powers Function Disabled by external interference.
========================
Kei stopped. A slight smile curled his lips.
"Right on time."
His divine black eyes rotated slowly, searching for the source of the interference. It only took a few seconds before he saw him: standing atop a building, coat billowing in the wind, eyes sharp and focused — Aizawa Shota, also known as Eraserhead.
Kei raised an eyebrow.
'The online forums really did help uncover the identities of the Pro Heroes… But nothing compares to seeing them with your own eyes.'
He dissolved Yamato into particles, making the katana vanish from his hand.
And then…
BOOM!
Kei launched himself with absurd force, the concrete beneath him shattering. His body was shot like a cannonball straight toward Aizawa.
Eraserhead saw it coming. His eyes widened. For a brief moment, his survival instinct screamed.
But it was too late.
Kei was almost upon him.
The impact would be fatal.
But fate had other plans.
"Detroit Smash!"
The sky exploded.
From above, a colossal shadow emerged, and a destructive punch descended from the heavens like a comet, hitting Kei squarely. The ground trembled, the nearby building vibrated, and chunks of concrete flew like shards.
Kei's body was thrown backward, crashing into the side of a building. But before he could break through it, he had already recovered. His feet and one hand sank into the concrete, absorbing the impact. He pulled them out, slid a few meters along the wall before stopping and looking ahead.
All Might, now in his full form, hovered in the sky with his fist still extended. The sunlight behind him created a divine image — the true Symbol of Peace.
Kei looked up, a small smile crossing his face, almost satisfied.
"Finally... time to start our operation."