The world lurched, and then Midoriya was underwater.
The cold struck him first, stealing his breath before he could think. His limbs thrashed instinctively, eyes stinging, ears ringing with the rush of displaced water. His lungs screamed until at last he broke the surface, coughing and gasping.
"Midoriya!"
Tsuyu's voice carried steady across the basin. She floated easily, her wide eyes scanning the surface with calm precision.
"I—I'm fine!" Midoriya sputtered, choking on another mouthful of water. He kicked hard but felt nothing under his feet. It wasn't a pool—it was deep.
A high, panicked shriek cut through the air. Mineta clung to a chunk of broken wall like it was the last raft on earth, his eyes wild.
"We're dead, we're dead, we're—"
"Mineta!" Midoriya barked, cutting through his panic. "You're not helpless! Your quirk—your spheres can trap them if they get close!"
Mineta blinked at him as though he'd just spoken a foreign language. His sticky balls quivered faintly on his scalp.
And then Midoriya saw why he had to say it.
Ripples spread across the basin. Boats scraped against stone, villains hunched over them, leering down. More shadows sliced the water directly, their bodies moving with predatory grace.
"Well, well," one with gills sneered, his voice bubbling wet. "Fog spit us out dinner."
Midoriya's heart pounded, but his mind snapped into gear. The water slows everyone. They think we can't fight here. They're wrong. Tsuyu's mobility, Mineta's capture, my analysis… We can use this.
He turned to Tsuyu, words coming fast. "You can move better than anyone. Get us on stable ground, even if it's floating!"
She nodded once, already moving. Her tongue lashed out, wrapping Midoriya's waist, and with a powerful kick she hurled him onto a slab of debris.
A villain lunged where he'd been, arms cutting through water with frightening speed—only to hit empty air.
"Mineta—now!" Midoriya cried.
Mineta squeaked, ripped one of his sticky spheres free, and hurled it. It smacked against the villain's chest, anchoring him to the nearest floating beam. The man snarled, clawing at it, but the more he struggled the more he was stuck, pressed awkwardly against the surface.
Midoriya's eyes widened. "See? You can stop them!"
Another boat swung in close, villains raising pipes and bats.
"Don't hit them—hit the boat!" Midoriya shouted.
Mineta flung three more spheres, crying out as he did. They splattered against the hull, sticking the boat fast to a jagged rebar strut. The villains rocked violently as their craft tilted, one tumbling overboard into the water. He came up sputtering, only to find himself glued against the hull by Mineta's spheres.
Tsuyu darted, tongue snapping to another rebar beam, ferrying herself and Mineta onto another chunk of floating wreckage. "They can't outpace us if we keep moving," she said calmly.
Midoriya's brain raced. Their formation isn't disciplined. They're crowding each other. If we break their movement, they're stuck.
"Two under us!" Tsuyu warned, ears flicking.
Midoriya grabbed a pipe jutting from the rubble and slammed it into the water, thrashing it side to side, creating noise and bubbles. The villains swerved toward the disturbance instinctively.
"Mineta!"
Mineta squeezed his eyes shut, flung two more spheres, and let out a terrified squeal. By pure panic—or luck—they stuck. Both swimmers came up spluttering, now glued awkwardly to each other and to a drifting slab of concrete. They kicked and cursed, floating helplessly but alive.
Midoriya's shoulders sagged with relief. Disabled, not drowned. Good.
They kept moving, Tsuyu hauling them whenever the path broke into open water. Each time a villain tried to close in, she'd lash her tongue out to yank them off-balance or flip them back onto debris. Midoriya shouted directions where he could—"Anchor that boat!" "Trap the arms, not the legs!"—and Mineta obeyed with frantic, wild throws.
By the time they reached the edge of the Flood Zone, the water behind them was littered with stuck villains—clinging to tilted boats, plastered across rubble, or tangled up together, cursing but alive.
Midoriya collapsed onto solid ground with a wet slap, gasping. Mineta dropped beside him, trembling from head to toe. "I thought—I thought I was done for—"
"You were great," Midoriya said firmly, squeezing his shoulder. "Both of you. You saved us."
Tsuyu crouched low, scanning ahead with steady eyes. "We need to rejoin the others."
Midoriya nodded, chest still heaving. Harry… I hope you're safe.
They sprinted through connecting passages, dripping and leaving dark footprints across the stone. The noises grew louder as they drew closer to the plaza—shouts, crashes, the thud of combat echoing from other zones.
The plaza opened before them.
Aizawa stood in the fountain's spray, scarf snapping like a living thing, quirks blinking out wherever his gaze landed. Villains crumpled, scrambled, or fell back, only for more to rush in. His movements were sharp, precise—but the strain showed. Purple bruises marked his face. His chest heaved between strikes.
At the fountain's base stood the man with hands covering his face. His posture was loose, fingers twitching like he was waiting for someone else to move the pieces. Beside him, the mist—the same void that had dragged them here—hovered steady.
And then the ground trembled.
A shadow moved at Shigaraki's gesture.
The Nomu stepped forward, massive and grotesque, muscle straining visibly beneath translucent skin. Its presence pressed on the air, heavy and suffocating. Midoriya's breath caught as he froze, every instinct screaming.
Shigaraki's voice slid across the plaza, calm and almost playful. "This is our trump card. Built to kill All Might."
Midoriya's stomach dropped. His fists clenched, but his knees threatened to lock.
This isn't like the others. This isn't a thug. This thing… is a monster.