In the center of the stage of total destruction that was once Kamino Ward, time seemed to freeze. All sound, all movement, all thought seemed to be sucked into a single focal point: the two legendary figures preparing their final attacks. This was no longer just a fight; it was the final judgment between two ideologies that had been at war in the shadows for nearly a century.
In the mind of All For One, there was only the cold certainty of victory. He felt the embers of One For All in All Might's fragile body. They were dregs, an echo of former power. 'You've held on to false hope for too long, Toshinori,' he thought, as his horrific arm—a combination of dozens of power-enhancing Quirks, kinetic boosters, and hardened bones—pulsed with dark power. 'I will extinguish that little ember forever, and then I will take that little student of yours and show him true power. Your legacy will be ash beneath my feet.' He didn't see this as a fight; he saw it as a correction, returning the world's order to his hands.
In the mind of All Might, there was no room for strategy or doubt. All that remained was purpose. He could feel One For All, the legacy of eight generations of heroes, gathering in his right arm. This was no longer his own strength. He felt the power of Nana Shimura smiling upon him. He felt the persistence of his nameless predecessors. And most powerfully, he felt the hope of Izuku Midoriya. He knew this was the end. This was the last punch he could throw as the Symbol of Peace. After this, the torch must be fully passed. 'Forgive me, Young Midoriya,' he thought, an apology and a legacy at the same time. 'I've used up all the remaining embers. But I swear, with this last punch, I will extinguish the darkness before you.'
"Goodbye, All For One," All Might said, his voice calm, carrying the finality of an era.
"Goodbye, All Might," All For One replied, his voice filled with the certainty of a tyrant.
They charged forward.
In our hiding spot in the alley, I screamed into the communicator. "NOW! GO! GO! GO!"
As All Might and All For One began to move, the world for our extraction team became a narrow tunnel of perception. On Todoroki's ice ramp, which was beginning to crack under the pressure, Iida pushed his engines to their absolute limit. "RECIPRO BURST!" he roared. They shot upward with the speed of a bullet, the wind roaring so loudly it threatened to tear the clothes from their bodies. Kirishima was at the front, his eyes fixed on Bakugo, his hardened hand outstretched.
Bakugo, seeing them coming, grinned wildly amidst the chaos. This was the most absurd, most foolish, but also the most 'heroic' chance he had ever seen. With a defiant roar, he unleashed a concentrated explosion from both his palms, launching himself into the air, away from the villains' grasp. Their hands met in mid-air—an explosive handshake above a battlefield of gods.
As I witnessed our small moment of victory, I also felt the main impact occur. I had no time to analyze. I could only react. With a roar, I manifested Incursio completely, feeling the familiar pain tear through my body. I planted my feet on the ground and became a shield for my friends behind me as the shockwave from the main battle hit us.
The clash between "United States of Smash" and All For One's ultimate attack was not an ordinary explosion. It was an event that bent reality. Sound vanished, replaced by a pressure so intense it made my ears ring. A pure white light swallowed everything, erasing all color from the world. I felt the Incursio armor groan, heating to its melting point as it absorbed and withstood energy that should have leveled the entire district. Inside my helmet, I could only grit my teeth and hold on, feeling the dragon within me scream in fear and defiance.
Then, silence.
Slowly, I lowered my arms. The scene before me was from an apocalyptic painting. A giant crater gaped in the center of Kamino. Buildings had become piles of rubble. And in the middle of it all, as the dust began to settle, one figure was still standing.
All Might.
His skinny, battered body stood tall, his right arm destroyed, but he was standing. At his feet lay the defeated All For One.
Across the world, the once-tense silence exploded into thunderous cheers. At the Ryukyu agency, Nejire and Uraraka were crying while hugging each other. Tsuyu shed silent tears. Ryukyu herself, the Dragon Hero, leaned against a wall, her legs weak with relief, a rare, genuine smile on her face. In my home, my parents hugged each other, crying happily in front of the television. On a distant rooftop, Akame stared at her phone screen, her expression unreadable, but for the first time, she understood the power of a collective hope.
On the battlefield, All Might knew he didn't have much time. He knew the cameras were still rolling. With the last remnants of his strength, he raised his shattered fist. He turned to the camera, looked directly into the lens, and pointed.
"Next," he whispered, a message intended for one person but heard by the entire world, "it's your turn."
In our hiding spot in the alley, we had all regrouped. The extraction team had managed to land safely several blocks away, and we had followed them. We watched that final moment on Midoriya's cracked phone screen.
As All Might pointed, Midoriya fell to his knees, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. The burden of hundreds of years of history, the hope of millions of people, was now officially on his young shoulders. Bakugo stood silently nearby, watching the screen with a deeply complex expression. His anger was gone, replaced by a bitter understanding and a forced admiration.
The other pro heroes began to arrive, securing the area. The battle was over. Victory had been achieved. But it didn't feel like a victory.
I walked over to the still-sobbing Midoriya. My Incursio armor had long since receded, leaving behind an incredible exhaustion. I looked at my classmate, my rival, and now, the heir to the Symbol of Peace. I didn't know what to say. Words felt cheap and meaningless after all we had witnessed.
So, I just did one thing. I extended my hand to him.
Midoriya looked up, his red, swollen eyes looking at my hand, then at my face. He saw the understanding in my eyes. He saw the respect. Slowly, he took my outstretched hand. I pulled him to his feet.
We stood there for a moment, two boys in the middle of a ruined city, surrounded by our equally battered friends. On the phone screen lying on the ground, the image of All Might standing tall one last time still glowed. An era had ended tonight, with an incredible sacrifice. And in the silence after the battle of gods, our era, the next generation's, had just begun with a simple outstretched hand amidst the ruins.