Somewhere else—
A cramped apartment.
Blond hair stuck out in every direction as a man stared at the ceiling.
"…So I really am in another world."
Kiiroi Kami—no, Deidara—clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. That red-eyed bastard… escaped my art even after I died recklessly."
He sat up, hands flexing. The familiar sensation of clay responded instantly.
Still there.
"Hahaha… art really is an explosion."
His stomach growled.
He glanced at the clock and jolted. "Shit—I'm late for the office!"
He rushed halfway to the door, then stopped.
"…Wait."
He squinted.
"…It's Sunday."
Silence.
Then—
"Yes."
He collapsed back onto the bed with a grin. "Perfect opportunity to understand this world, hm."
His mind buzzed.
A single message.
Night. Don't disobey.
Deidara clicked his tongue. "Tsk. Boss is annoying as always."
But his grin widened.
"…Still. Orders are orders."
Endeavor stood alone in his agency office.
The window behind him was cracked.
He stared at his gloved hand, fingers curling slowly.
Why couldn't I hit him?
Fire. Force. Even physical strikes.
Nothing landed.
"Reflection?" he growled. "No… it wasn't that simple."
The feeling lingered.
Like punching a wall that decided to punch back harder.
His teeth clenched.
"Damn it."
For the first time in years, frustration outweighed ambition.
Not All Might.
Not villains.
A nobody in a white mask.
"…I'll find you," Endeavor muttered. "And next time—"
The flames around him flared.
Elsewhere, a boy sat on his bed, phone glowing in the dark.
Shoto Todoroki stared at the video replaying silently.
The masked figure.
His father—thrown back.
"…Tsk."
He turned the phone off.
"So he can't even beat a villain," Shoto muttered flatly.
The screen went dark.
Back at the amusement park, Silver bit into his cotton candy, eyes half-lidded.
Ripples were spreading.
Heroes were thinking. Villains were moving. The system was watching.
And he?
He was just a kid enjoying Sunday with his dad.
A perfect background character.
The shadows, however—
Were already alive.