Sunlight sliced through UA's dorm windows, harsh and unforgiving, the morning after the forest bloodbath dragging Zion from a restless sleep.
His body ached—cuts scabbed, ribs bruised from fighting All for One's goons, their blades and flames no match for Momo's stolen Creation Quirk. The heroes, All Might, Endeavor, Aizawa. had swept in, crushing the last hostiles, hauling Class 1-A back to safety. Haruto's death hung heavy, a nobody kid gutted, but Momo's face, fierce with trust when he took her Quirk, stuck with him.
He rolled out of bed, UA's dorms quiet, the usual chatter dead. His All-Seeing Eye flicked on, scanning for Ochaco first—her appeal at 90, a soft spot he'd left alone since their toilet threesome.
He found her in the common room, curled on a couch, blanket loose, her face pale but unharmed.
"Yo, Ochaco," he called, voice rough, leaning against a wall. "You holding up after that mess?"
She blinked, sitting up, her skirt wrinkled, eyes heavy. "Zion… yeah, I'm okay. Scared, but the pros got us out." Her voice was soft, her appeal steady, a flicker of warmth in her gaze.
"You fought hard. Saved Momo." A hint of jealousy lingered, but she smiled, fragile but real.
"Good," he grunted, crude thoughts—her thighs, her moans—shoved down. "Rest up."
He left, satisfied she was safe, his mind on Midnight next, her flirty edge a spark he needed to check. He tracked her to the faculty lounge, her bodysuit tight, whip coiled, sipping coffee. His Eye pinged:
<
Name: Nemuri Kayama (Midnight)
Age : 31
Quirk: Somnambulist
Energy: 40
Endurance: 48
Strength: 31
Appeal: 100
>
"Kid," she purred, spotting him, her scent dizzying even without her Quirk. "Heard you were a beast out there. You hurt?" Her eyes roamed him, teasing but sharp, checking for wounds.
"Nah, I'm solid," he said, smirking, keeping it light. "Just making sure you're not spooked, teach." Her laugh was husky, her appeal near max, a dangerous game he'd play later.
"Spooked? Please. Keep your head on, rookie." She winked, dismissing him, her coffee steaming as he slipped out, her safety confirmed.
Momo was the real weight. He found her in a quiet study room, the same cramped nook from their last talk, shelves sagging, table scratched.
She sat alone, staring at her hands, her sweater loose, ponytail frayed, her face a mix of exhaustion and loss. Her Quirk—her identity—was gone, but her appeal at 100 meant she trusted him anyway, a loyalty that cut deeper than any blade. He shut the door:
"Momo," he started, sitting across, voice rough. "I'm gonna try giving your quirk back to you."
Her eyes snapped to his, hope warring with doubt, her hands clenching. "You can do that?" she asked, voice small, cracking.
"Dunno," he admitted, leaning forward. "All for One's a greedy bastard, but you're… you're worth trying for."
Her appeal, maxed out, made his chest tight—lust for her body, her mind, mixed with guilt for breaking her. She nodded, slow, her trust a lifeline. "I trust you. Try it," she said, reaching out, her fingers brushing his.
He focused, All for One stirring, a black-red pulse flaring as he reached into his core, where her Creation Quirk sat, vast and intricate.
He pushed, willing it back, the power resisting, clawing to stay. Momo gasped, her hand gripping his, her body trembling as the Quirk flowed, a warm glow wrapping her arm. Her skin sparked, a tiny knife forming in her palm, proof her power was hers again. She laughed, tears falling, relief flooding her face.
Zion exhaled, ready to feel the loss, but a system ping hit, sharp and new:
<
System Update –
New Ability Unlocked: Quirk Echo
Description: The ability to duplicate a previously stolen Quirk, retaining a copy for yourself.
>
His eyes widened, the Creation Quirk still humming in him, a perfect copy—Quirk Echo, a fucking game-changer.
"Hold up," he told Momo, testing it. He crafted a steel coin, the Quirk working, then nodded at her. "Try something big."
She focused, crafting a shield, larger than before, her smile bright but wary. "It's back… and you still have it," she said, voice soft, her eyes searching his. She knew his All for One, now this, her appeal at 100 holding her to him, but questions lingered. "What are you planning, Zion?"
He leaned closer, voice low, crude but real. "Wanna change things. You're part of that, Momo, your Quirk, your brain. We're stronger now." Her lips parted, torn between his cause and her hero heart, but she nodded, her hand squeezing his, her kiss from the forest a silent bond.
The day dragged—classes canceled, UA on lockdown, students whispering about Haruto's death, All for One's attack.
Ochaco lingered in the halls, her eyes soft but avoided. Tsuyu ribbited nearby, appeal at 30, neutral, a potential ally. All Might's stats—Strength 5600, Energy 5100—haunted him, a reminder of the power he'd face or claim.
*****