All Might POV
The world was a maelstrom of pain and fury. All For One, my nemesis, was pushing me beyond my limits. My body screamed, each powerful punch feeling like it was tearing me apart. I could feel my body feeling heavy. He was too strong, too cunning. This might be it. The end of the Symbol of Peace. I braced myself, my vision blurring as All For One drew back for what I knew would be his final, devastating blow. It was aimed for my stomach. I wouldn't go down without a fight, but I knew, deep down, I was losing.
Then, a glint. A blur of metal. A kunai? What in the world? I barely registered it. My focus was entirely on All For One, on surviving.
And then, he appeared. A flash of impossible silver light, a figure in a strange, dark outfit, with stark white hair and piercing red eyes. He moved with an impossible speed, catching the kunai he'd just thrown, appearing as if from nowhere. He was beside me in an instant, a hand clamping onto my shoulder.
"Get ready!" His voice was deep, somehow ancient, but filled with an urgent command that cut through the roaring chaos.
Before I could even blink, before I could ask who he was or what he was doing, the world spun. Not the dizzying kind of spin, but a complete, instantaneous displacement. One moment, I was staring down the barrel of All For One's ultimate attack, the next, I was standing on top of the tallest building in the city, the wind whipping at my hair, the battlefield a distant, tiny tableau beneath us.
"What in the...?" I gasped, my mind reeling, trying to process the impossible. My head whipped around to the figure beside me. He was already moving.
Then, with another blinding flash, he was gone from the rooftop, a phantom disappearing into the air itself, reappearing thousands of feet above, just as the kunai reached its apex.
Below, I saw All For One's monstrous attack tear a gaping hole where I had just been. He was looking around, enraged, confused. My mysterious savior had just pulled me from the jaws of defeat. But why? Who was he?
Then stranger attacked All For One with a big blue ball of energy.
My thoughts were interrupted as he reappeared beside me on the rooftop. He didn't waste a second. "No time!" he barked, his voice sharp. "Get ready to unleash your full power! He's disoriented. This is your chance!"
My mind clicked. He was telling me to fight. To finish it. My hand was on my shoulder again. "Give him everything you've got!"
My body screamed in protest, but his urgency, his impossible actions, sparked a fire within me. This was it. The final stand.
The world blurred once more. Another flash. We were no longer on the rooftop. We were there. Right in front of All For One, who was still reeling from the surprise attack. My fist, already charged, already moving, was directly in his face. It was perfect. It was everything.
With a final, desperate yell that felt like it tore through my very soul, I unleashed it. The United States of Smash. The greatest punch of my life. The air exploded, a concussive wave tearing through the city. All For One screamed, a sound of agony and defeat, as he was driven deep into the ground.
Panting, my muscles screaming, smoke rising from my body, I stood victorious. But the mysterious figure was still there, observing for only a moment. He hadn't fought my fight, not directly. He had merely... facilitated. Manipulated.
"You... you saved me. Thank you," I gasped, trying to find words. I had to know who he was. A Quirk? A new hero? No hero's Quirk could do that.
But he was already speaking, his voice firm, leaving no room for questions. "You owe me a favour. Just remember this. If I ever need help in the future, if I find myself truly cornered... I will come. No questions asked. Just remember that."
And then, he was gone. Another flash. Disappeared into the night. No trace. No name, save for that cryptic message. I stood alone, amidst the dust and destruction, the victor, yet utterly bewildered by the impossible intervention that had just saved not only my life, but perhaps the very future of hero society. The Symbol of Peace had almost fallen, but a phantom in silverhad appeared to ensure he stood. For now.
Third person POV
The colossal impact of the United States of Smash echoed across the ruined cityscape. Slowly, as the ground stopped trembling and the last of the dust began to settle, the extent of the devastation became horrifyingly clear. A massive crater marked the spot where All For One had been driven into the earth, a testament to the raw power unleashed.
From the periphery, other pro-heroes began to cautiously approach the scene. They had held back during the final, overwhelming surge of power, knowing that interfering might only hinder All Might. Now, seeing the stillness, they moved in. Gran Torino, his usual sharp demeanor etched with exhaustion, was among the first, followed by Endeavor, Best Jeanist, and a host of lesser-known pros.
"All Might! Are you alright?!" Gran Torino barked, skidding to a halt near his former student, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and concern.
All Might stood amidst the destruction, his body smoking, his golden aura flickering and fading. He was panting, blood trickling from a cut on his temple, but he was standing. He was alive. He looked utterly drained, his muscles trembling, but his eyes held a victory that resonated through his very being.
"I... I am fine, Gran Torino," All Might rasped, his voice hoarse, a shadow of his usual booming tone. He looked at the immense crater, then back at the approaching heroes. His gaze flickered towards the empty sky where the stranger had vanished.
He knew what he had to do. The identity of his savior, the impossible teleportation, the strategic precision of his intervention – none of it could be revealed. This was a secret he would carry alone. Not because he distrusted his fellow heroes, but because the very nature of the stranger was beyond comprehension, beyond explanation. It would only cause confusion, suspicion, and potentially put this mysterious entity at risk. He needed to understand him first.
"Villain... he's defeated," All Might announced, his voice gaining a touch of its usual gravitas, though still weak. "He's finished."
A wave of relief washed over the other heroes. Cheers erupted from some, while others simply sagged, the tension of the battle finally breaking.
Within minutes, the wail of sirens pierced the night. Emergency services, waiting on standby, swarmed the area. Paramedics, their faces grim at the scale of the destruction, rushed towards All Might.
"All Might-sama! Are you injured?" a medic asked, already preparing a stretcher.
"Just... exhausted," All Might managed, though he knew the truth was far more dire. The United States of Smash had taken an unimaginable toll. He could feel One For All retreating, his form becoming more unstable by the second. He would need a cover story, and quickly.