The following morning, the skies were still cloaked in darkness when Uchiha Madara stepped into the airport. There was no time for goodbyes—not even to Yaoyorozu Momo. All Might, ever punctual and strict, had booked him a flight to the West at six in the morning. The ticket had been purchased without any room for negotiation.
Madara hadn't slept. Between packing, confirming flight documents, and replaying All Might's warnings in his head, there simply hadn't been any time. Not that he minded. Sleep was unnecessary for a man like him. Or so he told himself.
The airplane's cabin was quiet, lit only by the dim glow of reading lights. As the aircraft lifted into the sky, crossing the international boundary between East and West, Madara leaned back in his seat and drifted into sleep.
He didn't dream.
Twelve hours later, the plane landed in City A.
Sunset painted the sky in brilliant hues of orange and violet, bleeding through the window and landing across Madara's face. The steady shuffle of passengers disembarking went unnoticed by him, his eyes still closed in slumber.
A gentle touch on the arm stirred him.
"Excuse me, sir," a stewardess said softly. "We've arrived."
Madara blinked and sat up, glancing around in momentary confusion. The entire cabin was nearly empty now. Only the flight attendant remained, watching him with a mixture of professionalism and concern.
"You're alone?" she asked kindly, tilting her head.
"Yes," Madara replied flatly, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes.
"Where are your parents?"
"They're dead."
The words were delivered with such a calm, matter-of-fact tone that the stewardess stumbled for a moment, visibly awkward. "I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," Madara interrupted, already reaching for his carry-on stowed overhead.
The woman's concern didn't fade, but when she saw the boy effortlessly heft a bag that looked heavy enough to belong to a full-grown man, her expression shifted into something like astonishment.
"Can you manage on your own? I could call someone to guide you—"
"I'll be fine." Madara slung the bag over his shoulder with ease and nodded politely. "Thank you."
With that, he stepped off the plane and into the terminal, leaving behind the confused yet oddly impressed stewardess.
Inside City A Airport
The terminal was massive and overcrowded, yet strangely quiet. Most of the signs were either obscured or broken, and Madara quickly found himself wandering aimlessly.
"Gate 2…" he muttered, scanning his surroundings, only to realize—he was lost.
"This airport's layout is completely absurd," he grumbled, sinking into a nearby bench. "No signage. What are these people doing?"
"Are you a foreigner?" a young man seated nearby overheard and turned toward him.
Madara glanced at him, then nodded. "Yeah. Do you know where Gate 2 is?"
"Straight ahead, all the way to the end. It's the second-to-last door on the left," the man said, pointing. "The place got attacked by a weirdo two days ago, so some of the signs are busted."
"A weirdo?" Madara raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," the man replied with a shrug. "Monster attacks are still pretty common around here. You get used to it."
Madara offered a small nod of thanks and stood. "Appreciate it."
He marched toward the direction indicated, ignoring the way the man's eyes lingered on his back.
"Huh," the man muttered to himself. "Kid's traveling alone? What kind of parents let a junior high student fly solo overseas?"
Shrugging, he slipped in his earbuds and returned to his phone.
As Madara neared the exit, a loud scream shattered the stillness.
"Run, there's a monster!!"
Chaos erupted.
Luggage hit the floor. Security personnel shouted into radios. Passengers fled in all directions. No one looked back.
In an instant, the airport was thrown into a frenzied panic.
Madara stood still in the middle of it all, his cloak swaying as people stampeded past him. The sound of crashing metal and cracking tile grew louder with each passing second.
And then—he saw it.
Lumbering forward from the far side of the hall was a grotesque, humanoid figure. Nearly three meters tall, its body was covered in bristling muscle and coarse fur. Its head resembled that of a tiger—fangs drenched in blood, eyes gleaming with primal hunger. In one of its claws, it held the severed limbs of some unfortunate security guard.
"Damn, there really are weirdos here…" Madara muttered. "So it's true—this is the world of One Punch Man."
"Kid!" a frantic man carrying a young girl shouted at him while running past. "Don't just stand there—run!"
Madara didn't respond.
Within moments, the airport had cleared out. Only Madara remained, standing alone as the beast locked eyes with him.
The monster's maw curled into something resembling a grin.
"Looks like I missed one," it growled. "A little small, but meat is meat."
Madara calmly placed his bag down and stretched his neck side to side.
"Disgusting creature," he muttered, his voice laced with disdain. "You reek of filth. Like something that crawled out of a sewer looking for scraps."
Growling in fury, the monster leapt toward him.
"ROAAAARRRR!"
Its claws slashed through the air, its momentum carrying the full weight of its monstrous form forward. Tiles shattered beneath its leap, the sheer force causing dust and debris to explode outward.
And yet—
Madara was no longer there.
A split second before impact, he had vanished.
The creature landed with an earth-shaking crash, leaving a crater in the floor. Shattered glass rained from the ceiling as the impact reverberated throughout the airport.
From the shadows, passengers peeking from behind pillars gasped.
"What the hell… Where did the kid go?!"
"I thought he was dead for sure…"
Above them, a shadow flickered.
"Looking for me?" came Madara's voice from atop the terminal's roof.
The monster whipped its head around. "You—how did you—"
Madara's response was a blur of movement. He dropped from the ceiling like a phantom, his foot crashing into the monster's skull with bone-crushing force.
The tiger-headed beast's eyes bulged, its mouth hanging open as it stumbled backward, dazed.
In a flash, Madara was behind it.
"Too slow."
A single backhand strike sent the creature careening into the wall, embedding it deep into the plaster like a ragdoll. Dust billowed out. The structure groaned.
Silence returned.
The civilians hidden throughout the terminal watched, stunned into stillness. Their savior—just a boy—stood unharmed, adjusting the sleeves of his uniform.
"Did… Did that kid just…?"
"Holy crap. He took that monster out in two hits!"
Madara exhaled quietly and walked forward, brushing off the dust from his clothes. As he approached the limp body of the monster, the creature groaned weakly.
"You're still conscious?" Madara muttered, cracking his knuckles.
The monster's one remaining eye twitched.
"Wait—please—!"
Madara raised his hand—and with a pulse of chakra-enhanced force, brought it down.
There was no blood. No scream. Only silence, and the soft crumble of debris.
The monster was gone.
As emergency sirens wailed in the distance, Madara retrieved his bag and calmly walked to the end of the terminal. He glanced once over his shoulder, watching people emerge from their hiding spots, whispering in awe.
He felt none of it.
This was not his world. Not yet.
But it would be.