Katsuki Bakugou was sitting in the dirt with leaves in his hair, a cracked phone in one hand, and a half-formed scream dying in his throat.

Above him, two moons hung in a sky that was far too purple. Not a city glow. Not a streetlight halo. Two actual moons, and one of them was faintly green.

He'd stared at the sky for exactly four seconds before something crashed through the treeline.

First came the torchlight. Then the sound of boots and leather and steel moving fast.

A woman broke through the underbrush in a low stance. She was already mid-swing when she realized he wasn't armed, wasn't running, wasn't doing much of anything but gawking like a landed fish.

Behind her, four more warriors fanned out around the clearing. All of them had their weapons drawn.

One of them, a tall man with a long scar across his jaw, spoke without lowering his spear.