Energi coughed on the ground, trying to lift himself back up, his eyes locked on Eidolon "You're done"
Then, his focus shifted—he turned to see who had saved him from a deadly fall. His eyes widened.
standing beside Energi was none other than the Wood Hero.
"Holy crap… Kamui Woods?!" Energi said, half in disbelief, half in awe.
Kamui, arms slightly raised in a ready stance, didn't look away from Eidolon. His voice came calm but firm. "You okay, kid?"
Energi gave a weak nod, struggling to his feet. "Yeah… thanks to you."
Meanwhile, a few meters away, Eidolon stood tense, his gaze flickering toward Aizawa, still holding him in check.
He tried again—desperately willing his ghost hands into existence. Nothing. His power refused to answer, shackled under Eraserhead's intense gaze.
"Just stand down now, Eidolon," Aizawa said, his voice low and steady. His eyes didn't blink, didn't falter. "It doesn't have to go any further."
But they both knew it would. Reason had no place here.
Eidolon didn't speak. Instead, he moved.
A blur of motion—he dashed for the ledge and dove, disappearing off the rooftop's edge into the darkness of the alleyway below.
Kamui stepped forward instinctively, tree branches beginning to curl from his sleeves. "He's on the move."
Energi limped toward the direction of Eidolon. "We can't let him escape—he's too dangerous."
And so, the echoes of a chase about to begin.
The alleyways blurred past him in a haze of motion. Eidolon's boots pounded the concrete as he dashed forward, weaving through shadows and garbage-strewn corners. The night air was thick with tension, every heartbeat amplified by the narrow confines of the city's underbelly.
Behind him, a quiet but relentless force pursued.
Aizawa.
The Pro Hero wasn't fast—he didn't need to be. He was tenacious. Tireless. The very moment Eidolon had thrown himself from the rooftop, Aizawa had leapt after him, scarf trailing like a tether of inevitability.
Eidolon gritted his teeth and turned sharply down a narrow passage, his mind racing. His quirk was still suppressed. No ghost hands. No edge.
But he didn't stop.
Another twist. A slide under a low-hanging pipe. A vault over a discarded crate.
Still, the sound of Aizawa's footsteps echoed behind him. Calm. Focused. Getting closer.
Eidolon lunged out of the alley and crossed a thin street—when—
Thwip.
From above, wooden limbs erupted downward like striking vipers, slamming into the ground just inches ahead of him.
Kamui Woods.
Eidolon skidded to a halt, instincts screaming. He pivoted, ready to retreat, only to feel Aizawa's presence reappear at his back.
"You're cornered," Kamui called down, his voice level but edged with warning. "Don't make this harder."
Eidolon didn't answer. His eyes flicked up, scanning the alley's vertical limits. The walls of the surrounding buildings reached high—but not impossibly so.
He ran.
Straight up the nearest wall.
His foot hit the bricks at an angle, then again, then again—bounding side to side with a parkour agility that momentarily stunned the two pros. His momentum carried him in a zigzagging pattern between the alley's walls until, in a flash, he vaulted onto the rooftop.
Kamui's eyes widened. "He's more agile than I expected!"
"I see that," Aizawa replied sharply, already throwing his scarf up to latch onto the same ledge.
Eidolon sprinted across the rooftop, breathing hard, still without his quirk. He hated the silence in his mind—the absence of his ghost hands. Like a part of him had been amputated. Still, he moved like a phantom, low and fast.
But he wasn't alone.
Click-whip.
Aizawa's scarf snagged around his right arm just as he reached the far edge of the roof.
The sudden pull yanked Eidolon back a step—but before he could twist free, more wooden tendrils burst upward, wrapping around his left arm. Kamui had arrived.
Now bound at both sides, Eidolon thrashed, testing his strength against the hold. His breath came out in short bursts, white mist in the cold air. No good. He couldn't break free—not without his quirk.
"You're done running," Aizawa called, eyes glowing red behind his goggles, still suppressing the boy's quirk with unrelenting focus.
Kamui held firm, his wooden branches flexing against Eidolon's jerks. "It's over. Just give up. You don't need to—"
Then it happened.
Eidolon moved—not away, but toward.
With both arms restrained, he dropped his weight backward and yanked on the bindings. The sudden momentum caused Aizawa and Kamui to brace, expecting a struggle.
They didn't expect the lunge.
Using the tautness of the bonds like a slingshot, Eidolon launched himself forward, straight at Aizawa. Kamui barely had time to widen his eyes.
Aizawa's stance shifted too late.
The boy was fast.
Dangerously so.
His expression showed no rage, no pleasure—only cold obedience, like a machine executing a task.
And his trajectory was perfect. A shoulder-first slam into Aizawa's chest, full force—
But it never landed.
BOOM.
A pulse of energy surged through the air.
Just inches before impact, a shimmering barrier of blue light erupted between the two.
Eidolon hit the shield hard and bounced off, grunting as he was flung backward and hit the rooftop with a dull thud.
Energi landed behind the barrier, panting, his hand still glowing from the activation. "Not on my watch."
Aizawa nodded gratefully "Energi."
Energi nodded, not taking his eyes off Eidolon, who was already starting to push himself up.
"He was about to crush you," Energi said, his voice low. "I wasn't going to let that happen."
Kamui stepped forward, reinforcing his hold with additional branches, snapping them tight around Eidolon's arm. "We've got him now. Let's finish this before he gets clever again."
Eidolon snarled, struggling against the now two-point restraint, but it was clear—he was running out of options.
Eidolon's eyes flicked from one hero to the next. His limbs trembled slightly—not from fear, but exhaustion. And deep within those eyes, behind the obedience, behind the control… was a flicker. Faint. Barely there.
But it was human.
Energi noticed it.
For a split second, he hesitated. His hand relaxed slightly.
But only for a moment
And that was all Eidolon needed.
The flicker of hesitation in Energi's stance—barely more than a breath—was enough.
In a flash, Eidolon surged forward again, his body moving with sudden, explosive force. His bindings stretched, branches groaning as he twisted and yanked with every ounce of strength in his scarred frame.
Energi's eyes widened. "Move—!"
He barely had time to thrust his hand out, a wave of golden energy forming into a concave shield. The barrier shimmered into existence just as Eidolon slammed into it. The impact sent a concussive pulse outward, rattling rooftop debris and forcing everyone to brace.
But this time, Eidolon wasn't caught off guard.
He bounced off the barrier—on purpose—and flipped backward in midair, using the momentum to reposition. His boots struck the rooftop and in one fluid motion, his heels clicked together.
Tchh-click.
A hiss of compressed gas, and from a hidden compartment in his boot, a small device shot upward—a compact, cylindrical hilt with a faint metallic whine.
A laser-knife.
The blade ignited with a harsh, unstable red glow.
Before anyone could react, Eidolon caught the handle mid-flip and twisted his body, aiming the knife downward.
In a single motion, he slashed across the scarf that had been binding his arm. The blade burned through the fabric in an instant, the edges of Aizawa's capture weapon curling and sizzling as they fell slack.
"He's cutting loose!" Aizawa barked, already reaching for backup restraints—but too late.
Eidolon's now-freed hand whipped around and sliced at the other side. Kamui's wooden branch recoiled violently as the laser knife burned through it, the fibers splitting apart in a flash of light and smoke.
"No—!" Kamui extended new branches instinctively, but Eidolon had already moved.
He dropped.
A controlled fall, clean and deliberate.
His body vanished from view as he dropped into the alleyway below, cloak fluttering in the wind, the last glimmer of red from the blade fading into the dark.
"Crap!" Kamui growled through clenched teeth, pulling his severed branch back. "He's loose again!"
Energi slammed his fist into the rooftop, frustration boiling over. "I had him—I had him!"
Aizawa stepped forward, eyes narrowing over the edge of the rooftop. "We're not done yet."
Kamui was already moving, limbs reshaping into narrow wooden tendrils designed for speed rather than restraint. "Let's go! Before he vanishes!"
Energi stood, clutching his side, still catching his breath—but his determination didn't waver. "I'm right behind you."
They leapt into the chase once again, the rooftop offering them a fleeting glimpse of Eidolon disappearing into the night below—his white hair catching the moonlight for just a moment before vanishing completely.
The hunt wasn't over. Not yet.
But the boy was fast.
Too fast.
Eidolon sprinted through the maze of alleys, his feet pounding against cracked pavement as he weaved between rusting dumpsters and flickering neon reflections. His breath came in sharp bursts, not from exertion but from sheer urgency. He had to get out of Aizawa's line of sight. His quirk was still nullified, invisible and unresponsive—a silence in his body he hated.
Then, at last, he rounded a corner and ducked behind a stack of discarded crates and trash bags. Darkness cloaked him. He skidded to a halt and dropped into a crouch, listening.
Silence.
He took a steadying breath. Then another.
No eyes on him. Not for now.
He could feel it—that slight hum under his skin. His quirk returned.
Ghost Hands flickered into being, pale and translucent, writhing around him like restless spirits. Power surged back through his limbs. He didn't waste time savoring it.
From the rooftops, the sound of impact and footfalls echoed.
Aizawa and Kamui Woods had found him.
Eidolon rose.
A second later, Kamui dropped down from above, landing hard in the alley's mouth, wooden limbs flexing and branching out in preparation. Aizawa appeared right after, rolling into a ready stance, goggles already down.
Eidolon didn't hesitate. He launched a flurry of Ghost Hands.
They didn't go for the heroes.
Instead, he aimed them at the environment—grimy trash cans, bags of refuse, even loose planks of wood and broken signage. Debris flew through the air, creating a blizzard of obstructing movement. Trash erupted in every direction, a cloud of confusion and smell. The dark alley became chaos.
Kamui cursed and immediately responded. Branches surged out from both arms in a sweeping, circular motion. They slashed through the junk mid-air, clearing the obstruction in seconds.
But it was already too late.
Eidolon had vanished from sight again.
Then came the next strike.
Three Ghost Hands shot out of the shadows. Two came for Kamui; one angled for Aizawa.
Aizawa barely twisted his body in time, letting one of the ghostly limbs graze harmlessly past. Kamui wasn't as lucky. A translucent fist collided with his side, knocking him back into a stack of crates with a grunt.
"Kamui!" Aizawa called.
But he had no time to check.
Eidolon descended from above, dropping like a knife behind Aizawa.
The pro hero turned just in time, eyes locking onto Eidolon's mask.
His quirk activated.
The Ghost Hands vanished instantly.
But Eidolon had planned for this.
Laser knife ignited with a hiss.
Eidolon charged. No tricks now. Just brutal, focused movement. He lunged at Aizawa with practiced efficiency, the blade arcing toward the hero's midsection.
Aizawa dodged back, narrowly avoiding the strike. He dropped low, sweeping at Eidolon's legs with one foot, but Eidolon leapt over the attempt and countered with a spinning slash. The blade hissed inches from Aizawa's throat, forcing him to stumble backward.
Aizawa raised his capture scarf, but Eidolon closed the distance again, this time faster.
They clashed. Close range. No quirks. Just skill.
Eidolon came in hard with a downward strike. Aizawa caught his wrist and twisted, trying to disarm him. Eidolon responded with a vicious elbow to the ribs, making Aizawa wince. He dropped low, ducking another slash, and slammed a fist into Eidolon's stomach. The boy grunted but didn't falter—instead, he twisted out of Aizawa's grip and swept the blade toward his side.
Aizawa barely caught the movement and shifted away again.
It was like fighting a weaponized shadow.
"You don't have to do this," Aizawa said, voice strained between maneuvers. "You were a child. You are a child."
Eidolon didn't answer. The blade swung again, forcing Aizawa into another defensive twist.
"You're being used. Controlled. You don't have to keep obeying him."
"Master saved me," Eidolon said, tone distorted by the voice filter. He struck again.
Aizawa caught the wrist this time. "No. He broke you."
The words hit something. Just for a heartbeat, Eidolon's movement faltered.
Aizawa seized the moment, locking Eidolon's arm and spinning him off balance. The laser knife clattered to the ground. But before he could pin him, Eidolon twisted violently and slammed his shoulder into Aizawa's chest, sending both stumbling back.
They reset.
Both breathing heavily now. One man, exhausted and bleeding. One boy, trembling from more than fatigue.
And somewhere, beneath the silence, something cracked.
Not armor.
But a voice.
A whisper that wasn't the master's.