Midoriya stepped forward, his expression unreadable in the dark. Beside him, Bakugo’s hands were already crackling with tiny, controlled explosions, lighting up the sharp planes of his furious face. Todoroki stood slightly apart, one side of his body faintly steaming in the chill. Sero was further back, tape dispensers tense at his wrists.

From a higher vantage point on a crumbling fire escape, two taller figures watched. Aizawa’s capture weapon was loose around his shoulders, but his eyes glowed a faint, warning red. All Might, gaunt and solemn in his weakened form, had a hand resting on the rusted railing, his gaze heavy.