The morning sun spilled gold across the rooftops of Musutafu, turning the familiar skyline into a warm canvas of orange and rose. Dew still clung to the grass in the open park where Izuku Midoriya stood, arms crossed, brow furrowed in quiet concentration. His breath steamed faintly in the cool air as he raised his hands.
Runes hovered between his palms — swirling, faintly glowing symbols of ancient origin, burning like starlight etched in fog.
Each one pulsed with power.
Izuku was pushing his limits again.
Momo Yaoyorozu stood nearby, arms folded in a thoughtful stance as she watched him. Her ponytail drifted gently in the breeze, and she looked between the runes and Izuku with a scientist's scrutiny.
"You're trying to overlay three runic effects at once?" she asked.
Izuku nodded, sweat already glistening on his temple. "If I can stabilize one rune to affect magical amplification, and another to isolate elemental resonance, I can theoretically channel the third for shaping without overloading."
Momo blinked. "Theoretically."
He grinned faintly. "Magic likes to break theories."
And it did.
With a sudden crack, the floating runes flared — then exploded outward like shattered glass, sending a shockwave of air through the park. Momo threw up a defensive stance as Izuku staggered back, shielding his face.
A wild burst of magical wind tore through the clearing.
Birds scattered. The air shimmered with residual energy. For a moment, it looked like something was trying to manifest — a doorway, a phantom limb of another realm — but it fizzled into static and vanished.
Izuku exhaled, panting. "Okay. Too much resonance."
Momo lowered her arm. "That could've ruptured space-time."
"I know. That's why I'm practicing."
She didn't scold him — not exactly. Instead, she walked closer and held out a flask of water.
He took it with a grateful nod.
This had been their rhythm for the last week. Long, quiet hours in open places where no one could overhear or interrupt. Izuku teaching himself how to feel the flow of magic, Momo watching with sharp eyes and sharper intuition. She had a gift for analysis — and the patience to ask the right questions, rather than rush in.
He'd told her everything. About the book. About the spells. About the man named Vision who'd delivered him to Inko and Hisashi. About the fact that he didn't know who — or what — he was supposed to be.
And she hadn't walked away.
"Try again," she said now, stepping back to give him room.
He nodded and sat down in the grass, folding his legs into a meditative pose. His breathing slowed. The world around him softened.
Then the world changed.
Izuku's consciousness slipped loose of his body, a single thread unraveling from flesh and mind as he drifted through dimensions. At first, it was darkness — soft, quiet, serene. But then the darkness began to pulse with color — stars blooming like flowers, nebulae unfurling in impossible shapes.
He moved without walking. Traveled without direction. His mind brushed against foreign realities — a realm of inverted gravity, where thunder roared upward into crimson skies. Another dimension painted in glass and flame.
And then — the Watcher's Realm.
An eye opened.
It wasn't just large — it was unfathomable. As if the entire universe paused to acknowledge the presence of this being. The air shimmered. Time dilated. Stars pulsed around the Watcher's head like atoms in orbit.
And in that single heartbeat of contact, the Watcher didn't speak — but a vision exploded into Izuku's mind like lightning across a storm-wracked sea.
The Vision
Thunder cracked overhead. Smoke billowed across a battlefield torn by energy blasts and shrapnel. The sky — dark, sickly purple — heaved with swirling clouds that bled downward like ink through water.
The Avengers stood together — but they were failing.
Captain America, his shield cracked down the center, fought off a swarm of winged, razor-limbed creatures, each strike of his fist fueled more by desperation than strategy.
Thor, drenched in blood and sweat, hurled Mjolnir — only for it to shatter mid-flight against a mountainous shadow looming above them, a creature larger than buildings, cloaked in writhing black tendrils.
Iron Man soared through the chaos, his armor sparking, one arm limp — his HUD flashing red warnings — as he fired repulsors at a void tearing open in the center of the sky. His voice, broken and hoarse:
"This can't be how it ends…"
Black Panther sprinted across collapsing stone, claws glowing with vibranium energy, trying to reach someone — Shuri, perhaps — before the ground swallowed her whole.
Wanda Maximoff, her eyes ablaze, screamed as she unleashed a psychic wave — but it bent, twisted, reversed, sucked back into her like a black hole draining power.
Doctor Strange, spinning in midair, arms dancing with glowing sigils, desperately held a collapsing portal open.
"We're not enough—! I can't—hold—!"
And in the center of it all —
Vision fell.
His body cracked like porcelain as a beam of chaotic energy pierced him through the chest. He reached for someone — not Wanda — but someone unseen. His voice echoed across the storm.
"He's the key…"
Back in the Present
Izuku gasped awake.
He was on his knees, shaking, sweat soaking his collar, hands digging into the grass as if anchoring him to now. His heart thundered. His lungs felt starved.
Momo was already beside him. "Izuku?! What did you see?!"
He looked at her — not in fear, but in awe. Dread. Destiny.
"I saw them…" he whispered, eyes glassy. "I saw the Avengers."
And for the first time since awakening his powers…
He understood that his story wasn't just magical.
It was cosmic.
Later That Night
In the quiet of his room, Izuku sketched.
He filled page after page with diagrams, symbols, and silhouettes. Not of monsters. Not of villains. But of heroes. Not just solo fighters — teams. Teams that trusted each other. Teams that had each other's backs.
His mind returned to the way Momo had stood beside him, never afraid of his magic. Never questioning him. Only asking how they could work together.
The vision — brutal as it was — had given him a seed of something new.
Hope.
He began to design a new spell — a rune sequence that would amplify another person's abilities instead of just his own.
Not a weapon.
A link.
Elsewhere, in shadows
A figure cloaked in flickering smoke watched from afar. Not a magician. Not a god.
But something darker.
And now, it knew his name.