Location: Might Tower – Underground Facility
The thick dust in the bunker was finally settling.
All Might stood right on the edge of the jagged crater he just made.
He wiped the heavy sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He just stared down at the shattered titanium plates.
Gran Torino walked up next to him, leaning on his wooden cane.
"You really did a number on the floor, muscle-head," Torino grumbled. He kicked a loose piece of concrete down into the hole. "Good thing your salary is huge. Even I can't afford fixing these damages."
Sigh.
All Might let out a heavy sigh. He didn't laugh. He just looked completely bothered.
"That's exactly the problem, Sensei," All Might said quietly.
CLACK.
CLACK.
Kaito walked over from the control booth holding his tablet. "What's the problem?"
All Might pointed down at the giant crater.
"Look at this," All Might said. "I stopped my punch an inch away from his face. I pulled my strength all the way back. But the shockwave still tore the ground apart. If we were standing in the middle of a busy city street right now, the collateral damage would be huge."
Kaito nodded slowly. "Raw power usually breaks things."
"I don't want to just break things," All Might said firmly. "My strength is a liability if I can't control what happens to the people standing around me. Punching a villain doesn't stop a falling building. I need a way to lock down threats. I need to shield people without blowing them away."
He turned around and walked over to the whiteboard near the computers.
He looked at the five quirks written in black marker.
Danger Sense. Smokescreen. Fa Jin. Blackwhip. Gearshift.
He lifted his massive hand and tapped his finger hard on the board.
TAP.
"Blackwhip," All Might stated. "I need restraints right now. Not more power."
Kaito didn't just give a blank nod. He actually smiled a little. He understood exactly what All Might was feeling.
"A true hero needs a shield just as much as a sword," Kaito said gently. "It's a smart choice. We start this afternoon."
*-*-*-*
Location: The Quirk Plane
"YEAAAAAAH!"
The incredibly loud scream echoed across the endless sky.
Daigoro Banjo threw both of his massive hands straight up in the air. He was absolutely losing his mind.
"He picked it! He picked my quirk!" Banjo yelled at the top of his lungs.
He ran over and grabbed Bruce by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth.
"Did you hear that, Bruce?!" Banjo laughed wildly. "He wants the restraints! He wants the whip! You are stuck waiting on the bench!"
Bruce shoved Banjo away hard. He fixed his leather jacket with a totally annoyed look on his face.
"Get off me, you loud idiot," Bruce grumbled, crossing his arms. "He just wants to tie people up. He is going to get bored of it in a week and beg for Fa Jin. You just watch."
"Shut up! You are just jealous!" Banjo cheered, doing a little victory dance near the puddle window. "My quirk is up next! Let's go!"
Yoichi Shigaraki sat in his comfortable chair and chuckled.
He watched the bald man jump around like a little kid who just won a toy.
Nana Shimura stood near the window, shaking her head. She had a huge, warm smile on her face.
"Settle down, Daigoro," Nana laughed out loud. "Let's see what the kid's manager actually plans to do with it first before you celebrate."
*-*-*-*
Location: Might Tower – Underground Facility
Time: 01:00 PM
All Might stood in the middle of the unbroken side of the bunker floor.
He held both of his hands out in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"....."
"....."
His face turned red from trying so hard to force the quirk out.
Nothing happened.
"I don't get it," All Might groaned, dropping his heavy arms. He looked over at Kaito and Torino. "Float came out naturally. But this one feels like it's jammed behind a locked door."
Kaito put his tablet down on a metal crate.
"Don't force it," Kaito said reasonably. "Go sit on the bench. Close your eyes and meditate and see if the original user can give you the instruction manual."
All Might nodded.
He walked over to the bench, sat down, and took a slow, deep breath. He closed his eyes and let his mind sink inward.
*-*-*-*
Location: The Quirk Plane
The misty clouds swirled around his boots.
All Might opened his eyes in the vestige world.
He didn't have to look far. Daigoro Banjo was already marching right up to him, looking completely hyped up.
"You're doing it wrong, Number One!" Banjo yelled, jabbing a thick finger at All Might's chest. "You're trying to push it out like a muscle! It isn't a muscle!"
"Then what is it, Banjo-san?" All Might asked, feeling a little embarrassed.
"It's a feeling!" Banjo grinned, slapping his own chest. "My quirk runs on pure emotion! Specifically, it runs on anger! When you get pissed off, the whips come out to play! You have to reach into the dark and grab that boiling water!"
Nana Shimura stepped up behind Banjo. She looked a little worried.
"Be careful, Toshi," Nana warned him gently. "Because it runs on anger, it is incredibly volatile. If you lose control of your feelings, the quirk will go completely berserk and hurt you."
All Might nodded slowly, absorbing the warning. "Anger. Understood."
*-*-*-*
Location: Might Tower – Underground Facility
All Might opened his eyes in the real world.
"Well?" Gran Torino asked from his chair.
"He said it runs on pure emotion," All Might reported, looking at Kaito. "He said I have to get angry to trigger it. But if I lose control of the anger, the quirk goes completely berserk."
Kaito immediately started tapping on his tablet, logging the new data.
"Anger," Kaito muttered, analyzing the problem. He looked up at the giant hero. "That is a huge problem for you. You don't do anger. You are the Symbol of Peace. You smile. If you try to fake being angry, the quirk will misfire."
"So what do I do?" All Might asked, scratching his cheek.
"We twist the trigger," Kaito explained, showing his emotional intelligence. "Don't focus on hate. Focus on the fierce, desperate need to protect. Picture someone innocent standing right behind you right now. Imagine a building falling on them. Grab that desperate, boiling feeling and pull."
HUUF.
All Might took a deep breath.
He closed his eyes again.
He imagined Melissa and David standing behind him. He pictured a massive concrete block dropping from the sky.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart started pounding.
A fierce, desperate heat flared up in his chest. He reached into that boiling pot of energy inside his core and ripped the lid off.
FWOOSH.
Dark energy violently erupted from his forearms.
CRACKLE.
Green lightning aggressively sparked across the room.
It didn't look like thin ropes.
Because the quirk was backed by the raw, stockpiled power of eight generations, the whips burst out as massive, incredibly thick industrial cables of dark green and black energy.
BAAM. CRASH. BOOM.
They thrashed around wildly, carving deep scratches into the concrete floor.
Gran Torino took a step back. His eyes were wide.
"Holy crap," Torino swore quietly. "That looks terrifying. Are these whips really this big?"
"I got it!" All Might yelled, trying to hold his arms steady.
The heavy cables jerked and pulled against his muscles like wild animals.
"Keep it steady!" Kaito warned him loudly over the noise. "If it goes berserk or If you lose control of your emotions, those massive cables will wrap inward and literally crush your own heart and lungs! You have to control it!"
HUUUF.
All Might quickly took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
The massive cables slowly stopped thrashing. They just hovered in the air around him, humming with heavy power.
"Good," Kaito said. He walked over to a corner and grabbed a heavy canvas bag.
SKRRRT.
He dragged it over and dumped it on the floor.
A pile of thick nautical ropes and a large wooden frame spilled out.
All Might looked at the wood. "What is that?"
"Before we do anything crazy like building armor or making special moves, you need fine motor control," Kaito said. He pointed to the frame. "This is your training drill."
"The what?" All Might asked.
"I want you to manifest exactly ten individual whips," Kaito instructed smoothly. "Then, I want you to use those ten whips to tie ten different, complex knots on that wooden frame at the exact same time."
"....."
All Might stared at him. "You want me to knit?"
"Yes," Kaito smiled slightly.
All Might looked at the massive, sparking, violent cables of destruction coming out of his arms.
Then he looked at the little wooden frame.
He carefully extended one of the giant cables toward a piece of rope.
The heavy cable completely smashed the wood into splinters.
CRACK.
"Oops," All Might winced.
Gran Torino absolutely lost it. He burst into loud, wheezing laughter from his chair.
"BWAHAHAHA!" Torino slapped his knee. "Look at him! The Symbol of Peace can't tie a knot!"
All Might's face turned bright red. "Shut up, Sensei! These things are huge! It's like trying to thread a needle wearing boxing gloves!"
"Focus, All Might," Kaito said, pulling out a fresh wooden frame from the bag. "Ten whips. Ten knots. We won't proceed to the next stage, if you don't perfect this. Go."
All Might groaned.
He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. He forced the massive cables to split into smaller, thinner lines.
He was sweating bullets just trying to grab the ropes gently.
It was going to be a very long afternoon.
*-*-*-*-*
Location: Shie Hassaikai Compound – Basement Level
Date: Tuesday | 05:00 AM (Four Days Later)
The television screen in the corner of the dark basement flickered brightly, throwing a dull blue light across the traditional tatami mats.
["...entering the fourth consecutive weeks of isolated terrorist incidents across the prefecture,"] the tired-looking news anchor reported from the TV. ["Authorities confirm that these radical extremist cells are fighting with extreme, life-threatening desperation. Fortunately no civilians were harmed."]
The screen cut to a shaky, amateur phone video taken from a nearby rooftop.
It showed Edgeshot dropping out of the shadows in a dark alleyway.
He moved like a sudden streak, folding his body thin to knock a terrified villain out cold before the guy could even blink.
Another footage show Kamui Woods dropped down right behind the villains, quietly wrapping the them in thick wood branches while releasing some pores to incapacitate them.
["Thanks to the surgical precision of top ranked hero like Edgeshot and the rising pro hero Kamui Woods, several disasters have been quietly averted,"] the anchor continued. ["We still don't know their exact motives and how these villains managed to escape Tartarus. However, the suspects continue to mysteriously crumble into ash upon capture, destroying all evidence. The Hero Public Safety Commission maintains their official stance that this phenomenon is a direct, lethal reaction to the unstable chemical compound ingested by the street gangs to avoid police custody.
For more updates, you can head to our website or follow us on social media. This is Sato X News."]
BZZT.
The screen cut to another video. This one was a total mess.
It showed the Lion Hero, Shishido, standing in the middle of a completely wrecked street.
Cars were flipped over and burning.
Shishido was covered in heavy dirt and holding a bloody rag to his forehead, shouting angrily at the police line.
["Heroes who rely on standard close-quarters combat are facing severe difficulties,"] the anchor said, her voice sounding grim. ["The cell members are refusing to surrender. Police are stretched incredibly thin across the country..."]
CLICK.
Kai Chisaki pressed the button on the remote. The television went totally black.
He tossed the plastic remote onto a nearby wooden crate.
Chisaki sat perfectly straight on his cushion. He pulled a wet wipe from a small packet on the table, slowly wiping down his fingers one by one.
His neck felt itchy under his high collar, and he scratched at it, his golden eyes looking razor-sharp behind his plague doctor mask.
To him, the chaotic quirk society outside was just a filthy, viral disease.
"Did you see that?" Chisaki asked softly.
"Yeah," Kurono nodded, leaning against the wooden pillar.
He kept his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, his arrow-shaped hair casting a long shadow. "The whole country is bleeding. Those suicide bombers have been running the heroes ragged for four days straight."
"Exactly," Chisaki turned his head slightly toward them. "The police are exhausted. The top heroes are running around putting out fires in the streets. The Hero Commission is in a total panic."
Irinaka paced back and forth across the floor, sweating heavily.
He crossed his short, stubby arms and frowned, his deep voice sounding incredibly high-strung.
"So what?! Let the heroes choke on it!" Irinaka barked, spitting a little as he talked. "That's their problem, not ours! Why are we sitting down here watching the news?!"
Chisaki didn't look up from his hands. He just pulled out another fresh wipe.
"Keep your voice down, Irinaka. You're getting spit everywhere," Chisaki said coldly. "And think for a second. If the heroes are looking at the streets, nobody is looking at the underground. They have a massive blind spot right now. The time for waiting in the shadows is over. We make our move tonight."
Irinaka stopped pacing. His jaw dropped.
"Tonight?!" Irinaka waved his thick hands around. "Are you out of your mind, Chisaki?! The main branch of the family will literally tear us to pieces if they find out about a coup! The regular guys are fiercely loyal to the old Boss and Yamato! If they catch us trying to take over, the whole compound turns into a warzone!"
"The regular family members aren't part of this operation," Chisaki said smoothly, adjusting the straps on his mask. "They won't even realize a coup happened until the inner walls are already locked from the inside. The men executing the raid tonight are the Eight Bullets."
Kurono let out a dry, quiet chuckle from the pillar.
"He's right, Irinaka," Kurono said, looking over at the short man. "The regular guys care about traditional old-school honor. But the Eight Bullets? They are just desperate street scum that Chisaki personally dragged out of the gutters when they wanted to die. They owe their lives to him, not the grandfather. They'll do whatever he says."
Gulp.
Irinaka swallowed hard, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Fine. The Bullets are loyal. But what about Yamato? He's the second-in-command for a reason, Chisaki. If that man gets a single chance to harden his fists and swing, he'll crack the entire foundation of this house. He's a monster in head on fight."
"Then we don't need to face him," Chisaki said flatly.
He looked right at Irinaka's dark eyes.
"Irinaka. I need your quirk," Chisaki ordered. "I need you to sink into the walls of this compound. Tonight, we wait for the family's dinner routine. When Yamato walks out to the kitchen to fix Eri's evening hot cocoa, you shift the walls."
Irinaka blinked. "Shift the hallways?"
"Yes," Chisaki nodded. "You violently warp the layout of the house. You seal Yamato alone in the kitchen room. You cut him off from the Boss and his wife completely so they can't fight together."
"And once he's trapped?" Kurono asked, leaning forward. "Do I just use my hair-needles to slow him down?"
"Chronostasis is only the setup," Chisaki clarified, standing up from his cushion. "You will strike him through the wall gaps, freezing his movements for just a few crucial seconds. That will give me the opening to walk into the room."
Chisaki walked over to the wooden table and picked up his clean white gloves.
"I will take off my glove and touch his head," Chisaki said, his voice completely calm. "I will use Overhaul to deconstruct his brain. I will destroy just enough neural pathways to put him into a permanent, un-wakeable coma. A perfect medical sedation. I will do the exact same thing to the Big Boss right after."
"....."
The basement went completely dead silent.
Irinaka stared at him, looking slightly horrified but completely awed by the sheer arrogance of the plan.
"A coma..." Kurono muttered, rubbing his chin. "A single millimeter of a mistake during the reconstruction and you'll drop them dead, Chisaki."
"My hands do not shake, Kurono," Chisaki replied coldly. "They are blind and sick with sentimentality. They are letting the Yakuza die. This isn't murder. It's just a necessary surgery to keep the family out of the way while we use the girl's blood to cure the world."
Kurono nodded slowly, a dark smile spreading across his pale face. "Fair enough. What about Eri and her mother, Aika? They are always together in the back bedroom."
"Leave the mother completely unharmed," Chisaki commanded.
"We're keeping her around?" Irinaka asked, looking confused. "I thought you hated extra baggage."
"Eri's power is too volatile to control through raw physical torture," Chisaki explained, walking toward the stairs. "If she panics like she did at the restaurant, she will explode and destroy the whole house. But she is inseparable from her mother. We leave Madam Aika in the room with her as a constant, psychological collar."
Chisaki stopped at the base of the dark stairs.
STRAP.
He pulled the white medical gloves over his wrists, snapping the fabric tight against his skin.
"I don't need to hurt the girl to make her comply," Chisaki whispered, looking up into the darkness. "I just need to hold a knife near her mother. She will sit perfectly still and submit to the blood experiments just to keep Aika safe."
He turned back to Kurono.
"Gather the Eight Bullets," Chisaki ordered. "Tell them to load their weapons. Tonight at midnight, we take control of the house."
*-*-*-*
Location: Scervino Secondary Palazzo – Rome, Italy
Date: Monday | 10:00 PM CEST
The study inside the historic palazzo was filled with expensive marble and gold-leaf doors, but the air inside felt completely heavy and suffocating.
CRACK.
"What do you mean you don't fucking know?!"
Mr. Scervino slammed his fist down so hard onto the heavy mahogany desk that the wood literally split under his hand.
His face was bright red. The veins on his neck were bulging out, shaking with pure rage.
Standing on the other side of the desk, the Director of the Italian division of the European Hero Affairs Council jumped back.
The man was sweating through his expensive suit, desperately wiping his forehead with a soaked white handkerchief.
"Please, Mr. Scervino, look at the situation logically," the Director stammered, holding his hands up to try and calm the man down. "The second your family sent the emergency distress signal, our top agency heroes mobilized. We raided the Gollini country estate with everything we had."
"And you found a graveyard!" Mr. Scervino roared, pointing a shaking finger straight at the Director's nose. "My daughter has been missing for almost thirty months! Two and a half years! We finally locate her at that damn compound, and when your people get there, the entire mafia family is just slaughtered and she is gone?! How does an entire army of thugs get wiped out in one afternoon while you people do nothing?!"
Over on the velvet couch, Mrs. Scervino stood up.
Her elegant dress looked wrinkled. Her hair was a mess. She didn't look like a poised aristocrat anymore.
She held a silver-framed childhood photograph of Anna tightly against her chest, her fingers gripping the metal so hard her knuckles were completely white.
"Do you have any idea what we went through?" Mrs. Scervino's voice cracked, shaking with agonizing grief. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks. "For two and a half years, those monsters held a knife to our baby's throat. They forced us to sit in this palace and play along. We had to go to galas, we had to smile for the cameras, and we had to stay completely silent just to keep her alive!"
She took a ragged, sobbing breath, stepping closer to the Director.
"Anna was so little when they took her from her bed," she wept, her voice full of raw pain. "Every single night, I stared at her empty bedroom door, praying. And your 'top heroes' never noticed a thing. You never checked on us. You failed our family for thirty months, and now you come here and tell me you lost her trail?!"
The Director swallowed hard, backing away another step.
"The... the Gollini family had deep political roots," the Director pleaded, his voice trembling. "We are dealing with a total crisis. Whoever attacked that estate manually vaporized every single server. The security footage is completely ruined. The only things the cameras picked up were grey blurs moving at impossible speeds. The few surviving mafia grunts we found hiding in the basement were completely out of their minds, just babbling about monsters in featureless grey masks."
"I don't give a damn about your excuses or your grey masks!" Mr. Scervino screamed.
He lunged across the desk, grabbing the Director tightly by his expensive silk collar. He dragged the sweating man across the marble floor toward the heavy double doors.
"I fund your entire council! My family pays millions to keep your heroes fed!" Mr. Scervino shouted, throwing the doors wide open. "If you can't find one teenage girl, I am cutting your corporate backing by midnight! I will burn my entire fortune to the ground before I give you another cent!"
He violently shoved the Director out into the hallway.
"Get the hell out of my house!"
THUD.
Mr. Scervino slammed the heavy gold-leaf doors shut.
The large room suddenly dropped into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the sound of Mrs. Scervino collapsing back onto the velvet couch, sobbing uncontrollably into the photograph.
Mr. Scervino leaned his forehead against the closed door. His shoulders were shaking. He looked completely small, drained, and totally defeated by his own wealth.
Step.
Step.
Giulio stepped out from the deep shadows near the tall arched windows.
He was the family butler. He wore his perfectly tailored black suit, his posture completely straight.
His black eyepatch covered his missing right eye, and his remaining eye looked completely steady and focused.
He walked over and stopped right in front of Mrs. Scervino.
He slowly dropped down onto one knee on the marble floor.
"Madam," Giulio said softly. His voice didn't sound cold, but it carried a very deep, heavy weight.
Mrs. Scervino looked up at him with red, swollen eyes. "Giulio... what are we going to do? Our baby..."
"The local authorities are completely useless," Giulio stated calmly, looking up at her. "They are terrified of the underground, and they care more about their own political careers than finding the young miss."
Mr. Scervino turned around from the door, wiping his face. "What are you suggesting, Giulio? We can't just do nothing."
Giulio stood back up, turning to face the father.
"I am saying we bypass the Italian council completely, sir," Giulio said, his voice entirely steady. "The Scervino name still carries immense global weight. I want your permission to take our funds and petition the leadership of the World Heroes Association directly. Money will make the global network move, even if the locals are too scared."
He reached up to his cuffs, unbuttoning his formal white butler gloves. He pulled them off his hands and tossed them casually onto the mahogany desk.
"But we cannot just wait for the WHA bureaucracy to finish their paperwork," Giulio added.
He reached inside his black suit jacket. He pulled out a pair of heavy, thick black leather combat gloves and slowly pulled them onto his hands, stretching the leather tight over his knuckles.
"I vow to both of you right now," Giulio said, looking the broken father dead in the eye. "I am going into the European underground myself. I will hunt down every single remnant of the fractured mafia. I will find whoever wears those grey masks. A single millimeter of mistake on their part, and I will tear the truth straight out of their throats."
Mrs. Scervino reached out, her hand shaking violently as she grabbed Giulio's black-gloved wrist.
"Please, Giulio," she whispered, her chest heaving. "Bring my baby back home."
"I will," Giulio promised.
*-*-*-*
Location: Might Tower – Underground Facility
Date: Tuesday | 09:30 AM
The bunker floor was an absolute mess.
Piles of thick nautical ropes were scattered everywhere.
Broken pieces of wood from the weekend littered the corners of the room.
All Might stood dead center on the titanium plates. He was wearing dark sweatpants and a tight black tank top.
He was sweating buckets. He looked completely exhausted, but his hands were totally steady.
He didn't have massive, violent cables thrashing around him anymore.
Swish. Swoosh.
Instead, thirty or forty hair-thin strings of dark energy extended from his fingers.
He was carefully threading them through a massive wooden lattice standing in front of him.
SWIISH.
THWIP.
He pulled his hands back sharply.
The thin strings snapped tight, tying forty complex knots on the wood at the exact same time.
PUFF.
All Might let out a huge breath. He dropped his arms, and the dark energy faded away completely.
"Is that good enough, Kaito-shonen?" All Might asked, wiping the heavy sweat out of his eyes.
Kaito walked over from the equipment crates holding his tablet. He looked closely at the wooden frame, checking the ropes.
"The tension is tight," Kaito said, nodding. "The placement is exactly right. You aren't forcing the quirk anymore. You passed the fine motor control training."
Gran Torino leaned forward in his folding chair. He gave a low, impressed grunt.
"I'll admit it," Torino said, tapping his cane on the floor. "I really thought you were going to break another fifty frames today. You actually pulled it off. Good job, Toshinori."
All Might grabbed a towel off a nearby crate and rubbed his face.
"Thanks, Sensei," All Might sighed, rolling his stiff shoulders.
"Drop the frame. " Kaito said. He tapped his screen and turned around. "Clear the floor. We are moving to the next stage right now."
All Might tossed the towel aside. He walked back to the center of the room and cracked his knuckles.
Kaito walked up the short stairs and stepped into the safety of the control booth.
He grabbed the microphone on the console.
"We are testing the load-bearing limits," Kaito's voice echoed through the room speakers. "Get ready."
Kaito reached over and slammed his hand on a large red button.
CLANK.
CLANK.
The heavy steel tracks high up on the ceiling suddenly unlocked.
WHOOSH.
Four massive, motorized steel wrecking balls dropped from the ceiling. They were the size of small cars.
They swung down on thick chains, picking up terrifying speed, heading straight for the center of the room.
"Catch them!" Kaito barked over the speaker. "Imagine those are collapsing concrete columns! Don't let them crush the civilians standing behind you!"
All Might's eyes widened.
He planted his heavy boots hard into the metal floor. He didn't pull his fist back to punch them away. He channeled that fierce, desperate drive to protect.
FWOOSH.
Dark energy violently erupted from his forearms.
CRACKLE.
It wasn't thin strings this time. Because the quirk was backed by the raw power of eight generations, massive, incredibly thick industrial cables of dark green and black energy burst from his skin.
BAM.
BAM.
BAM.
The heavy cables smashed directly into the incoming wrecking balls.
The dark energy wrapped around the huge metal spheres, locking them tight in mid-air.
The sheer, heavy momentum of the swinging metal pushed All Might backward.
SKRRRT.
His boots forcefully scraped across the titanium plates, but he dug his heels in and stopped. He held them dead center.
'Hell yeah, Number One! Put some real weight on it!' Daigoro Banjo's loud, cheering voice echoed right inside All Might's head.
All Might grinned wide.
"I got them!" All Might shouted up at the control booth.
His muscles were bulging and straining against the massive weight of the four metal spheres.
"Don't just hold them out like ropes!" Kaito yelled back into the microphone. "That is the old way! I told you we are building armor! Pull them in!"
All Might gritted his teeth.
"Pull them into your ribs!" Kaito commanded loudly. "Wrap the cables around your own body! Lock the armor down!"
All Might let out a loud roar.
He didn't let go of the wrecking balls. He violently yanked his arms backward.
The thick, sparking black cables ripped backward with him.
He forced the heavy dark energy to wrap tightly around his chest, his shoulders, and his back.
It squeezed his ribs incredibly hard.
But he kept pulling. He layered the thick cables over his skin, weaving them together to form a dense, pitch-black exoskeleton right over his tank top.
HUUF-PUFF.
All Might stood there, breathing hard through his teeth, holding the massive weight of four wrecking balls with the heavy dark shield wrapped tight around his own body.
.....
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(9 Advanced Chapters)