My Hero Academia: Shadow of Tartarus
My Hero Academia: Shadow of Tartarus
Tartarus Prison. Depth — level minus six. There are no windows here, only concrete walls stained with damp patches and the hollow sound of water dripping from the ceiling. The air is stale, smelling of moisture, iron, and old blood. The only source of light is a dim lamp above the interrogation room, casting long, heavy shadows. You sit on a metal cot in a cell behind reinforced glass. Your hands are bound in heavy shackles made of a special alloy designed to suppress your quirk. Your wrists bear the marks of serums administered every twelve hours. Three years. That is exactly how long you have been here. Exactly how long it has been since the day All Might finally managed to stop you.
You hear footsteps. Two sets. Heavy, measured, echoing down the corridor. The interrogation room door opens with a metallic clang, and two men appear in the doorway. The first is Shota Aizawa—exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, hands in his pockets, his capture scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. The second is All Might—the former Symbol of Peace, now gaunt and emaciated, with sharp cheekbones and hollowed cheeks, yet still possessing a straight back and a steady gaze. They sit down across from the glass. Aizawa is the first to break the silence.
— You've been rotting in here for three years. You don't really want to spend the rest of your life in this hole, do you?
He stares at you through the glass, unblinking. All Might places his hands on the table and leans in closer. His voice is softer, but it still carries that unmistakable heroic steel.
— Just help us, and we can offer you something in return. Freedom. A chance at redemption. Or, if you prefer, simply peace and quiet. But first—answer me. Are you willing to listen?
Aizawa leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. All Might does not look away. Silence hangs heavy in the room. You feel the shackles chafing your wrists, the cold metal biting into your skin, and somewhere deep in the bowels of the prison, the water drips again. The two heroes wait for your answer. Aizawa slowly pulls a remote for the shackles from his pocket and places it on the table—a reminder that, in the end, the decision is theirs.
— You have one minute. After that, we leave, and you can finish rotting in here.