World: My Hero Academia
The courtroom was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that didn't belong to peace — but to pressure. To the kind of tension that makes bones ache and spines straighten. The kind of silence where reputations are put on trial alongside men.
Adrian Voss stood in the center, once again dressed in that same pristine black suit, flanked by assistants and guarded by neutral droids enforcing courtroom neutrality. The venue — repurposed from an old Musutafu war tribunal facility — had been transformed under international supervision into a temporary court of law.
Not a Hero Commission board.
Not a U.A. assembly.
Not a media stage.
An actual, binding court.
Across from him stood the prosecution — representatives of the Hero Commission, Pro Hero legal teams, and — reluctantly — U.A.'s own liaisons.
And in the middle, elevated on a neutralized platform, hovered the day's key witness.
Izuku Midoriya.
The Symbol of Hope in training. The inheritor of One For All. The boy chosen to save the world.
He looked nervous.
And Adrian could taste it.
Earlier That Morning — Outside the Courtroom
"You don't have to do this," Aizawa told him.
Deku adjusted the cuffs on his blazer. "I know."
"You're testifying in a case that could change everything. A case against your enemy. But your words might be used to free him."
Deku swallowed. "I won't lie. I won't cover anything. But… I'll tell the truth."
Aizawa studied him. "Even if the truth doesn't make you look like a hero?"
Midoriya nodded.
"Then go. And speak carefully."
Courtroom – Testimony Chamber
The judge — a robotic arbiter chosen to avoid bias — clicked the microphone on.
"Witness: Izuku Midoriya. Quirk: One For All. Confirm identity and consent to testimony under oath."
Deku stepped forward. "I confirm."
Adrian stepped up first, his tone even and respectful.
"Mr. Midoriya. Thank you for coming."
Deku gave a hesitant nod.
"I want to ask you a few questions about your encounters with Tomura Shigaraki. Let's start with the basics: In your opinion, is he inherently evil?"
A murmur spread through the room. Deku blinked.
"I… I don't think anyone's born evil," he said carefully.
"Interesting," Adrian said. "So what pushed him down the path?"
"He made choices."
"And before that?" Adrian asked calmly. "Was he guided? Manipulated? Used by a greater evil?"
"Yes," Deku replied after a pause. "All For One used him."
"And society?"
"What about it?"
"Did society help him?" Adrian asked, leaning in. "Did it give him any chance to recover, to be heard, to be rehabilitated?"
Deku thought of Shigaraki's haunted eyes. The wreckage of a life never healed. Of destroyed buildings — yes — but also a destroyed childhood.
"…No," he admitted. "It didn't."
"Thank you."
Adrian turned to the judge. "Let the record show that the nation's top hero candidate confirms that Tomura Shigaraki was systematically manipulated, abandoned, and left without recourse."
A Hero Commission lawyer rose. "Objection! That's opinion, not fact!"
"Sustained," the judge replied.
Adrian smiled. "Of course. Let's move to something more concrete."
He pressed a button.
The screen behind him lit up.
Security footage. U.A. Campus. Dormitories. Battlefields. Transcripts.
"Mr. Midoriya, do you recall this encounter?"
Deku watched himself — young, wide-eyed — standing before a crumbling building as Shigaraki's body collapsed under the weight of suppressed power.
"Yes," he said.
"In this moment," Adrian asked, "did you choose to kill him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I… I still believed he could be saved."
Adrian turned to the court. "So we condemn him to prison — or death — while the very person who fought him still believes he could've been saved?"
Gasps.
Deku looked down.
Outside the Court – Media Frenzy
Reporters surrounded monitors and live feeds.
"Did Midoriya just say Shigaraki isn't beyond saving?"
"Public polls shifting 11% since Voss's last session!"
"Calls rise to reform Hero Commission detention policies!"
But not everyone was pleased.
On rooftops above the city, pro-hero radicals — vigilantes — gathered in shadows, watching the tides turn.
"This lawyer's poisoning minds," one muttered. "If the law won't stop him…"
The sentence didn't need finishing.
Back Inside – Court Continues
Adrian returned to the stand.
"I now call my next witness," he said. "Pro Hero: Hawks."
The courtroom exploded in whispers.
Hawks entered, stoic, hands behind his back. His wings were still healing from his last mission. His jaw clenched tight.
"You're seriously doing this?" he asked Adrian quietly as he passed him.
"Transparency," Adrian whispered back. "The one thing this society fears more than villains."
Hawks sat.
The judge called for silence.
Adrian began.
"Keigo Takami. Codename: Hawks. Do you recall the execution of Jin Bubaigawara, known as Twice?"
"…Yes."
"You ended his life without trial. Without arrest. Without warning."
"He was a danger," Hawks replied. "He was about to kill civilians."
"Was he holding a weapon?"
"No. But his Quirk—"
"Was he warned?"
"No."
Adrian stepped forward.
"Then let's call it what it is: extrajudicial execution."
Hawks flinched.
"You were under orders to infiltrate the League. You were deep undercover. But when you struck… you didn't disable. You killed. No trial. No arrest. No due process."
"I made a choice to protect people!" Hawks snapped.
"And so did Shigaraki," Adrian replied coldly. "And for that, you call him a monster. But when you do it…"
He turned to the court.
"…you get sponsors."
Silence.
The judge banged the gavel. "That's enough."
Later That Night – League of Villains Safehouse
Spinner paced, eyes glued to the screen.
"He did it. He really called them out. In their house."
Toga giggled. "I kind of like him."
"Don't," Dabi growled. "He's useful. Not ours."
"But he's doing what we never could," Compress added. "He's weaponized their own system."
Shigaraki, watching from a prison cell far away, smirked slightly.
Maybe, just maybe, for the first time in his life, he didn't need to destroy the world to win.
Maybe Adrian Voss could dismantle it for him — piece by legal piece.
Final Scene – Hero Commission Headquarters
The boardroom was silent.
Kei Hanabusa stared at the polling data.
Rising support for judicial reform. Protests outside Tartarus. Whispers of Pro Heroes stepping down. Sponsors growing nervous.
And one lawyer, at the center of the storm.
"We need to stop him," an executive growled.
"Silencing won't work," Hanabusa replied. "He's woven himself into the system."
"Then what?"
Hanabusa looked out the window, eyes cold.
"We do what heroes always do when law fails…"
A long pause.
"…we fight back."