Chapitre 1: - flashforward -
In the future.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
My amplified punch sent the maniac flying back, landing him on his butt.
And it knocked the fake hand off his twisted face.
Notably, Shigaraki didn't get back up; he started muttering, "This is bad... this is very bad..." and scrambled towards his "mask" on all fours.
"Lost your favorite right hand?"
I jumped and kicked him in the stomach, sending him soaring into the air.
In war, there are no stances, no rules, no timeouts, no "don't hit a man when he's down."
During the war, there is the one who dies and the other one who kills.
I came to fight you. And you miscast your role today, Tomura.
Tomura disagreed. He grabbed my leg, trying to disintegrate me.
Not at my speed! I threw his limbs aside with micro-amplification and instead of striking, stomped on his "mask," shattering it into fine dust with an explosion.
Shigaraki... howled. And began tearing at his own face with his nails, ignoring me.
At that moment, two henchmen attacked.
A cold thought flashed: "I don't have time to babysit you."
Block from the left. Kick to the knee of the left one, breaking it. Duck, letting a wide punch fly over my head. Quick strike to the groin, amplification leaving the right one unable to contaminate the nation's gene pool. Armored elbow to the left one's teeth, no quirk needed. Shove the right one away...
Grab both hands of the charging Tomura.
We froze, trembling with tension, his fingers scraping the air inches from my face, and I held his forearms with all my strength. Now, without the mask, I could see not just those wild, bloodshot eyes, but his bloodied, distorted face.
"Such a young guy," I thought with unexpected sadness.
Around us, the battle raged, everything was crashing, but we saw only each other.
The strangest thing was that my next words came out unexpectedly clear, as if ringing like a bell:
"Listen, when All-for-One put all those hands on you, didn't it bother you that they were all the same size? Even though when you killed your sister, she was only... what? Five, six? She had tiny hands, you know? They're just fakes."
It didn't matter if it was true or not.
And I didn't know what I expected.
But certainly not the lone tear that rolled from his eye.
"What... what are you..."
I jerked my head, activating the tiny markers on my helmet's buttons, fully deploying the visor without using my fingers, and released his wrists. Tomura fell forward - and I took pleasure in smashing his face with my protected forehead, breaking his nose. Again.
Then I stomped on his foot, grinding the bones of his foot with amplification.
Tomura shrieked.
Finally, we collided like rugby players, and I preemptively hurled him away with another marker.
The lad rolled across the concrete slabs, losing all his decorative hands.
I stepped forward. Another step. And another.
Quietly, continuing the psychological attack, I said:
"Shigaraki, do you really think these hands are your relatives? Preserved in embalming fluid for fifteen years? Despite the fact that you destroyed them all, unable to control your quirk, but left just the hands, every single one of them? Doesn't that make you laugh? They're just fakes, you're just being used and brainwashed, you're..."
"Shvutt uph... shvut uphh!!!"
"You have a strange accent, can't understand a word," I replied absently, thinking that I could also tackle Plan Point Six, Subpoint 'c' - knock Tomura out and throw him in Tartarus. Maybe Nezu could actually do something useful with him?
My opponent finally got up - but collapsed to his knees. His pale hair covered his face, and I was about to KO him when...
When young Shigaraki screamed incoherently - and plunged his own hands into the ground.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone