Before Katsuki could snap back, the air shifted. It wasn’t a sound. It was a feeling. Like the world itself had been cut open with a jagged blade. The hair on the back of Kirishima’s neck stood up.

Katsuki’s eyes snapped upward. The sky above Shibuya didn’t darken. It fractured. A spiderweb of brilliant, impossible light spread out from a single point, like glass shattering in slow motion.

The light wasn’t just above them. It was everywhere. Swallowing the buildings, the streets, the very air. It burned without heat. The last thing Katsuki heard was the villain’s laugh, ringing in his ears as the world dissolved.

Darkness. And one thought, sharp and desperate, cut through the nothingness before it all disappeared.