The alarms didn't blare.
There was no breach.
No quirk activation.
No missing personnel.
But still—Nezu called an emergency meeting at 3:14 a.m.
Because the impossible had happened.
Kira moved.
Not just fingers.
Not a twitch.
She walked.
Recovery Girl stood with arms crossed.
"She shouldn't be able to even stand. Her spinal regeneration was incomplete. The nervous system hadn't—"
"But she did," Aizawa said.
Mic leaned forward. "Could it be Eri's quirk still affecting her? A delayed ripple?"
"No," Nezu whispered, tapping his screen. "This... is something else."
The footage rolled.
Kira stood beside the hospital bed.
Blank-faced.
Hands by her side.
She looked straight into the surveillance camera—then waved.
Kira's POV:
The world pulsed.
Not like a heartbeat.
Like glitches.
Every few seconds, reality skipped.
The tiles on the floor flickered between clean and cracked. The walls buzzed, like static in her brain.
She blinked—
—and suddenly stood at the opposite end of the room.
She hadn't walked.
She just was.
In the hallway, Eri's horn glowed.
Dim. Uneven. Unstable.
Midoriya sat up in his bunk. Eyes wide.
"You feel that?"
Eri clutched her blanket.
"I didn't do anything."
But the pulse didn't stop.
It was like her quirk had reached out on its own.
And something...
Had grabbed back.
Kira stood still now.
Silent.
Eyes closed.
A nurse entered the med-wing, clipboard in hand.
Then froze.
Kira was gone.
Gone from the bed.
Gone from the room.
Gone from the camera feed.
Just—vanished.
"Where is she?!" Aizawa shouted, sprinting through the lower corridors.
"I locked every door!" Power Loader yelled over the comms. "She can't leave that wing!"
Nezu didn't answer.
He already knew where she'd gone.
Outside, beneath the moonlight.
Two girls faced each other.
Kira. Barefoot.
Eri. Trembling.
Between them, a stillness so deep it swallowed sound.
"You came to me," Eri whispered.
Kira nodded. "I remembered you. Not your face. Not your voice."
She placed a hand to her chest.
"Just the feeling."
A beat of silence.
Eri took a step closer.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I couldn't save you."
Kira tilted her head.
"But you did."
Suddenly—
Eri's horn pulsed again.
Kira didn't move.
But the air around her fractured.
Lines—like cracks in glass—spiderwebbed outward.
Midoriya burst through the doors behind them.
Saw the scene.
"Kira—Stop!"
But Kira was already gone.
Not vanished.
Not teleported.
She rewound—in reverse motion—her body deconstructing back into light.
The ground scorched where she stood.
Steam hissed into the air.
Eri fell to her knees.
Midoriya caught her before she hit the stone.
"She didn't want to hurt anyone," Eri said, shivering.
"I know."
"But she's... like me now."
Midoriya looked up at the moon.
Eyes dark.
Voice quiet.
"No. She's worse."
In the faculty conference room, Nezu projected new footage.
Kira.
Moments before vanishing.
Spoke into thin air.
No sound. No mic.
But the lips were readable.
"I am not supposed to exist."
Gran Torino stepped back.
Midnight muttered, "She's becoming a living paradox."
Aizawa clenched his fist.
"We have to contain her."
"No," Nezu said.
"We have to understand her."
To be continued.