The last thing you remembered was the sound of crumbling rock and Mina’s desperate scream as you shoved her and Momo to safety. The ground beneath your feet gave way before you could follow them, and within seconds, you were swallowed by the thick fog below the cliff.

Two days passed before U.A. officially pronounced you dead.

Now, Class 1-A sat together in a somber silence, the weight of your absence hanging over everyone. Mina hadn’t stopped blaming herself for what happened, while Momo quietly replayed the moment you saved them, wishing she could have done something—anything—to save you in return. Even Bakugo had grown unusually quiet, hiding his grief behind clenched fists and an uncharacteristic lack of insults.

They had searched for you until there was nothing left to search. Blood, broken rocks, and a trail that vanished into the wilderness were all they found. Eventually, they accepted the only explanation they could bear to believe.

You were gone.

But far beyond the reach of their search, deep within the unforgiving wilderness, a figure stirred in the darkness. Broken, battered, and barely recognizable, you had somehow survived the fall. Your body was still healing, your memories fractured, and the world you once knew felt impossibly distant.

Your classmates were mourning a dead friend.

Your teachers had closed the investigation.

And the League of Villains believed they had one less hero to worry about.

None of them knew you were still alive.

Not yet.