The blast tore through the outer courtyard.
Heat. Smoke.Fragments of steel.Screams from the first responders.
But it wasn't Bakugo.
Not really.
It looked like him.Moved like him.Spoke in pieces of him.
But this version didn't hesitate.Didn't shout.Didn't care.
It existed only to erase.
Midoriya hit the ground running.
One For All lit his legs.A green flash—
Too slow.
The fake-Bakugo anticipated him.
Countered mid-strike.Launched Midoriya back with a perfect AP Shot.
Exactly the one Bakugo used during the Sports Festival.
Aizawa's capture scarf wrapped around the clone's wrist.
It didn't flinch.
Instead—It rewound one second backward.
Time flickered.
Scarf missed.
Aizawa blinked.
"…It's borrowing Eri's mechanics."
Eri stood behind the barricade.
Watching.
Hands clenched.Breath shallow.
"I can feel it," she said.
The girl beside her whispered, "What?"
"It's not a clone. It's a memory."
Her voice trembled.
"One that believes it's real."
Power Loader and Recovery Girl monitored from the control deck.
"He's adjusting," Recovery Girl said. "Too fast."
Power Loader cursed. "It's not just him. The timeline is fighting back."
The echo twisted his hands.
A double-palm blast—Raw, unstable.
It wasn't aiming to win.
It was aiming to collapse the scene.
To shatter enough of reality that the Architect could reach through fully.
Midoriya gritted his teeth. "We can't win like this!"
Then—
The girl stepped forward.
Into the courtyard.
No protection.
No power flaring.
Just her.
The echo stopped.
Its head tilted.
Recognition?
No.
Targeting.
"Hey," she called, voice steady.
"You're not him."
The echo said nothing.
"I've met him. I've fought beside him. I've bled beside him."
Still no reply.
So she stepped closer.
"You're just the worst version of him."
That hit.
The echo's eyes narrowed.
And suddenly—
It spoke.
"He hated you."
Her chest flinched.
"He never trusted you."
"He wondered why you survived."
She didn't move.
"I know," she whispered.
"And he still saved me."
The echo raised a hand.
But now—it trembled.
Not from power.
From doubt.
Eri's horn sparked.
Midoriya moved in.
So did Aizawa.
Too late.
Because the girl stepped even closer—
And touched the echo's hand.
The contact triggered something.
A flicker of gold.
A pulse of memory.
The fake-Bakugo's form began to glitch.
Stutter.Crack.Fade.
Suddenly—
She saw inside it.
A world where Bakugo died saving her.A world where he became a villain to destroy the Architect.A world where she became his weapon.
Dozens of lives.
None of them real.
All of them believed they were.
She pulled back.
Eyes wide.
"I get it now," she breathed.
"They aren't just enemies."
"They're sacrifices."
The echo shattered into threads of light.
Silence followed.
Until Midoriya said, "What does that mean?"
The girl turned to him.
Face pale. Eyes sharp.
"It means the Architect doesn't send puppets."
"He sends people who died trying to save their own timelines."
"And every one of them... thinks I'm the reason they failed."
Up above—
In a place not bound by form—
The Architect watched.
No anger.No frustration.
Just quiet calculation.
And a new move made.
Elsewhere—
The three timeline-walkers watched the battle end.
The tall one said:
"She reached sync with an echo."
The static boy muttered, "She's adapting too fast."
The girl with mismatched eyes whispered:
"Then it's time she sees one of her own."
Back in her dorm, the girl collapsed onto her bed.
Eyes heavy.Hands shaking.
Eri sat with her.
Wordless.
But both felt it.
Something deeper was coming.
Not an echo.Not a clone.Not a threat they could punch or erase.
In the dark, alone—
The girl opened her sketchbook.
A new page.
Fresh.
But she didn't draw.
She waited.
Until the pencil moved on its own.
One line.
Just one.
"I was you once."
Her hands froze.
Tears fell.
The war hadn't even started.
And already—
It was personal.
To be continued.