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The warm summer sun bathed the carnival in a golden hue, the sky a perfect shade of blue without a cloud in sight. The air was alive with excitement—the enticing aroma of cotton candy, popcorn, and fried food wafted through the breeze. Vibrant colors of carnival rides and game booths greeted Midoriya and his friends, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of calm. The heavy weight of hero training, of responsibilities and the ever-present danger that lurked behind every corner, seemed to dissolve in the soft warmth of the day.
“Wow! Look at that Ferris wheel!” Uraraka’s voice broke through his thoughts, filled with awe as she pointed to the towering ride that gleamed against the backdrop of the brilliant sky.
Midoriya smiled, soaking in her excitement. “It’s huge, isn’t it?” he said, marveling at the sheer size of it. There was something so innocent about it, so carefree—just like the whole day promised to be.
“I’m more interested in those rides that spin,” Bakugo scoffed, hands shoved deep in his pockets, but Midoriya caught the flicker of excitement in his eyes. “Let’s see who can handle the fastest one.”
“Come on, Bakugo, we just got here!” Kirishima laughed, giving Bakugo a friendly shove, nearly knocking him off balance. “There’s no rush. Let’s enjoy ourselves before we start challenging each other to death-defying stunts.”
The group shared a laugh, and for a moment, Midoriya felt like any other teenager, spending a carefree day with his friends. No villains, no pressure, no expectations. Just fun.
“Maybe we can start with the games?” Midoriya suggested, glancing at the small map of the carnival in his hand. His eyes darted briefly to the distant roller coaster, the one that loomed high above everything else, and he felt a thrill of anticipation. But for now, he wanted to enjoy the simple things.
Todoroki, calm as ever, nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t mind trying one of those games.” His usual stoic expression was softer today, as though the lighthearted atmosphere of the carnival had melted away some of his natural reserve.
“That one!” Ashido cried, already bounding ahead toward a game booth filled with plushies and colorful prizes. “Come on, let’s show them our hero skills!”
The group followed, laughing as they crowded around the booth. The barker, a cheerful man in a striped vest, challenged them to knock down three milk bottles with a single throw.
“Oh, that’ll be easy,” Sero boasted, stretching his arms dramatically. He took the ball, aimed carefully, and threw—missing entirely.
“Maybe it’s harder than it looks,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Amateur.” He stepped up next, eyes narrowed with laser focus. With a swift, almost effortless motion, he sent the ball flying, knocking the bottles down in one go.
“Ha! That’s how you do it!” Bakugo smirked, pointing to the pile of stuffed prizes. “Give me the biggest one.”
The barker handed over a large bear, and the group erupted in laughter as Bakugo handed it off to Kirishima, claiming it was “too soft” for him to carry around.
They moved from booth to booth, trying their hands at more games, their competitive spirits flaring with every challenge. But it was all in good fun. Every win was met with high-fives, every loss with groans and teasing, but no one cared who won or lost. It was about the moment—their shared joy, the lightness that only a day like this could bring.
Midoriya couldn’t remember the last time he felt this free. The constant tension that weighed on his shoulders day in and day out had lifted, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to forget about everything outside the carnival. Here, they weren’t heroes-in-training—they were just kids, laughing and having fun.
As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the carnival, they finally made their way to the rides. The roller coaster loomed ahead, and this time, Midoriya couldn’t resist its pull.
“Let’s go on the roller coaster!” Kaminari suggested, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“I’ll sit that one out,” Iida said, adjusting his glasses in his usual precise manner. “I prefer something less… chaotic.”
The rest of them eagerly boarded the ride, strapping in as the gears clicked and the cars began their slow ascent. Midoriya’s heart raced in anticipation. The climb seemed endless, the height dizzying, but in a thrilling way. The world stretched out beneath them, the carnival transforming into a sea of lights and colors as they reached the peak. For a second, there was silence—pure, weightless silence.
And then, the drop.
The air was filled with screams, both of excitement and fear, as the coaster plummeted down the track, twisting and turning with dizzying speed. Midoriya’s laugh was lost in the wind as he threw his hands up, feeling a rush of pure adrenaline. There was something intoxicating about the freedom of it—the wind in his face, the blur of the world as they sped through loops and turns. He felt untouchable, weightless, as though nothing could ever catch him.
When the ride finally slowed to a stop, they stumbled off, breathless and grinning, their faces flushed with exhilaration.
“That was amazing!” Midoriya exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. His usual intensity was redirected, focused entirely on the thrill of the moment. “We have to do that again later.”
As the day wound down, they gathered near the carnival’s edge, watching the Ferris wheel slowly turn against the backdrop of the setting sun. The orange glow bathed them in warmth, and for a moment, the chaos of their lives seemed far away. The horizon blazed with brilliant shades of red and gold, casting long shadows over the carnival, and Midoriya sighed in contentment. It was the perfect ending to the perfect day.
But then, as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, something shifted.
Midoriya’s heart skipped a beat. At first, it was subtle—just a faint chill that swept through the air, raising goosebumps on his skin. He frowned, rubbing his arms. It didn’t make sense. The day had been so warm, so perfect. But now, the evening air felt heavy, oppressive. The vibrant colors of the carnival seemed to dull, the once-bright lights flickering slightly in the distance.
He glanced at his friends, who were still laughing and talking as they walked toward the food stalls. They didn’t seem to notice the change.
“I’ll catch up,” Midoriya called to them, forcing a smile. His voice sounded hollow, distant, even to his own ears. They nodded, waving him off as they continued ahead.
Midoriya stayed behind, his smile fading as a strange sensation crept over him. He looked around, scanning the crowd. People still bustled around him, their faces filled with joy and excitement, but something felt off. The carnival didn’t feel welcoming anymore—it felt like a cage.
The sounds of laughter and carnival music had dimmed, replaced by an eerie quiet. The sky, which had just been glowing with the vibrant hues of sunset, now seemed darker, the shadows deeper and more pronounced. The warm orange glow of the Ferris wheel was now a sickly, muted color, as though the light itself was being drained from the world.
*What is this?* Midoriya thought, his heart pounding in his chest. The sense of unease grew stronger, more oppressive. The once-familiar carnival grounds now felt alien, twisted. He swallowed hard, trying to shake the feeling, but it clung to him like a thick fog.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw something—a figure standing unnaturally still in the middle of the crowd. Midoriya turned to get a better look, but the figure was gone, swallowed by the throng of carnival-goers.
He blinked, his breath quickening. He tried to tell himself it was just a trick of the light, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then he felt it—a cold shiver that ran down his spine, prickling his skin like ice.
“Izuku.”
The whisper was low, cold, too close to be anything but real. Midoriya’s breath hitched in his throat. He spun around, his eyes wide, but there was no one there. Just the empty space where the voice had been.
“Izuku.” The voice came again, softer this time, almost teasing, but dripping with malice. He knew that voice.
*All for One.*
A wave of terror surged through him, freezing him in place. The carnival around him seemed to warp and twist, the colorful lights flickering like dying stars. His friends were gone, vanished into the crowd, and he was alone—completely, utterly alone.
Panic set in, and before he could stop himself, Midoriya broke into a run. His legs moved on instinct, weaving through the thinning crowd, his heart hammering in his chest. The carnival wasn’t right anymore—everything had changed. The laughter, the joy—it was all gone, replaced by a creeping dread that slithered through the air like poison.
“You can’t run from me, Izuku.”
The voice was closer now, but when Midoriya turned, there was still no one there. The lights flickered out, plunging the world into a twilight that deepened with every passing second. Midori
ya’s pulse quickened as he darted through the shifting carnival grounds, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
Then he saw him.
A figure stood in the distance, cloaked in shadow, his presence unmistakable. All for One.
Midoriya froze, his blood running cold. The world around him seemed to fade, the vibrant carnival now a twisted nightmare of flickering lights and elongated shadows. All for One’s silhouette seemed to loom impossibly large, dark tendrils of malice curling around him.
“Did you really think you could escape your destiny, Izuku?” All for One’s voice was a low, insidious whisper, echoing through the now-silent carnival. “You were always mine.”
Midoriya’s breath came in ragged gasps as All for One stepped forward, his shadow growing larger, swallowing the light around them. The carnival—his friends—it was all gone now. All that remained was the suffocating presence of the man who had haunted his nightmares for so long.
Midoriya’s heart pounded in his chest, his legs trembling beneath him as he took a step back. But there was nowhere to run. The carnival had twisted into a labyrinth of darkness, trapping him, isolating him. He was alone.
Completely, utterly alone.
The overwhelming sense of loneliness crashed over him like a wave, suffocating and inescapable. The friends he had laughed with moments ago were gone, swallowed by the darkness. The warmth and joy of the day had been replaced by an unbearable coldness, one that seeped into his very soul.
“This is your fate, Izuku.” All for One’s voice was inescapable, filling the air like a dark, poisonous cloud. “You can’t run from it. You can’t hide.”
The figure stepped closer, and Midoriya felt the weight of his presence pressing down on him, crushing the air from his lungs. The world seemed to warp around them, the carnival dissolving into a nightmare of shadows and fear.
“This is where it ends.”
Midoriya’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the cold ground, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The carnival lights flickered one last time before plunging him into complete darkness.