One month later.
The apartment was nothing special—barely enough space to stretch out, and thin walls that couldn't stop the neighbor's midnight arguments or the rats in the pipes—but Accelerator didn't complain. It was quiet, mostly. Private. His.
The jobs were menial: deliveries, hauling crates, janitorial cleanup. Nothing that asked questions. Giran had come through with a low-level ID, enough to rent a place and walk around without turning heads. The cash flow was meager, but steady. For now, it was enough. Accelerator adjusted the straps on his sling bag, zipped up his hoodie, and stepped into the city noise. His next gig was a few blocks out. Same deal as always—pick up a package, drop it off, keep his head down.
But just as he rounded the corner onto a busier street, a scream pierced the morning air. People were running. Accelerator narrowed his eyes. Up ahead, a hulking figure towered over the crowd. He looked like some monstrous hybrid between a man and a shark, with bulging arms and jagged teeth. In one hand, he held a screaming bank clerk, the other raised threateningly as he barked for everyone to toss him their valuables.
Before Accelerator could even react, something shot past him—thick, branching ropes of wood that cracked through the pavement and twisted upward like snakes. "Lacquered Chain Prison!" a voice rang out. A man in a long, flowing coat leapt into view. Kamui Woods—at least that's what the nearby crowd was shouting. Phones were out, people were cheering.
Accelerator didn't cheer. He just watched. Kamui's branches closed in on the shark-headed villain, twisting fast—but then, a blur dropped from the right, and a massive heel slammed into the pavement. "Canyon Cannon!"
BOOM.
The impact knocked the villain flat, splintered Kamui's branches, and shattered the sidewalk. Mt. Lady landed dramatically, posing with one hand on her hip and the other flashing a peace sign. Her smile gleamed as the cameras swarmed in. Kamui Woods froze mid-movement, the glory stolen right out from under him. Accelerator just stared, unimpressed. He turned away, hands stuffed in his pockets. This world really was different. And so far, he didn't like it.
Izuku Midoriya wasn't having a good day. In fact, he wasn't even sure he could call it a day anymore. More like a long, drawn-out reminder of how far behind he really was. How unwanted his dreams were. His so-called best friend—if Katsuki Bakugou even counted as that anymore—had told him to take a swan dive off the roof. Then, like that wasn't cruel enough, he grabbed Izuku's Hero Analysis notebook and tossed it into the sky like trash.
Right into the river. Now Izuku stood near the edge of the overpass, shoulders slumped, the wind tugging at his jacket, trying not to cry. The page floated for a moment—wet, heavy—then sank beneath the murky surface. The notes, the sketches, the strategies he'd worked on for weeks... gone. All because he had the audacity to want to be a hero without a Quirk.
He found himself cutting through a quiet underpass—cool, damp, and shadowed by concrete walls. His head hung low, thoughts spiraling in a storm of frustration and hopelessness. That's when he heard it. A slosh. Wet and heavy, like something thick dragging across the tunnel floor. He turned—and froze. A bubbling, grotesque mass of sludge oozed from a storm drain behind him, rising into a humanoid shape with wide, manic eyes and a jagged grin made of liquid filth. "There you are!" it hissed gleefully. "A fresh body—perfect for hiding!" Before Izuku could scream, the thing lunged.
The sludge surged forward like a wave of filth. Izuku stumbled back but in an instant, it wrapped around his legs, his chest, his mouth. Panic exploded in his chest. He clawed at the slime choking his throat, his screams muffled by thick, choking ooze. "Don't struggle!" the villain crooned, voice vibrating through the goop. "It'll be over soon!" The world narrowed to darkness and suffocation.
Then—
BOOM!
A gust of wind ripped through the underpass, strong enough to rattle street signs and shake the very walls. "Have no fear..." A voice, booming and heroic, rang through the tunnel like a divine command. "...for I am here!" The sludge froze just long enough. With a single, impossibly fast motion, the Symbol of Peace reared back a massive fist.
"TEXAS SMASH!"
The air detonated. The punch didn't even hit the sludge directly—it didn't have to. The sheer wind pressure tore the creature off Izuku's body and splattered it against the tunnel walls like wet garbage. Izuku collapsed to the ground and passed out.
Izuku's eyes began to open, shifting focus to the massive, hulking figure towering above him—All Might himself. "Thought I lost you there," All Might said with pure relief. Izuku's eyes widened, and he immediately screamed, crawling backward in shock at the sight of his idol. "Sorry about that back there. I didn't mean to get you caught up in any justicing," All Might said with a boisterous laugh. "Usually, I pay more attention to keeping bystanders safe, but the sewer system is pretty difficult to navigate." Izuku quickly scrambled to find his notebook, hoping to get an autograph—but to his surprise, All Might had already signed it. He repeatedly bowed. "Thank you so much! This will be an heirloom—a family treasure passed down for generations!" All Might began to crouch down, preparing to leap over to the police station, but just as he was about to take off, a certain green-haired idiot grabbed onto his leg.
TIMESKIP
Izuku stood frozen, heart pounding in his chest. "So… even with that injury… you're still saving people," he said, barely able to process it. All Might gave him a weak smile. "That's right. But only for a short time each day. And even then, I have to be careful." He turned away, gazing at the city below. "The world needs a Symbol of Peace. Someone strong. Someone reliable. That's the role I've tried to play… even if it's only an act now." "No," he said, voice firm. "I'm sorry, but no." Izuku flinched like he'd been struck. "A pro's job is to risk their lives, facing villains head-on to protect the public. Without a Quirk, you're just putting yourself in danger. And worse—you'd be a liability to those around you." The words hit harder than any punch. All Might began walking toward the door and began to leave but before leaving he said, "It's not bad to have a dream young man but make sure your dreams are realistic." Izuku was left standing there—alone—with tears welling in his eyes, and his dream shattered.