I-Island, often lauded as the pinnacle of human achievement, gleamed in the early morning sun. Its metallic infrastructure, cutting-edge designs, and innovative solutions made it a magnet for the world's elite, a futuristic marvel that travelled the seas, accepting tourists from every corner of the globe. But beneath its shiny exterior, it hid a much darker reality.

In the heart of I-Island stood a grandiose building, its high arches and spiraling towers radiating power and affluence. This was the seat of the Council of I-Island, an organization so secretive that most residents were oblivious to its existence. The council consisted of twelve individuals – a mixture of ageless beings and the heirs of powerful legacies. Their eyes, whether old or young, shone with the same cold, calculating light – the mark of hearts tainted by corruption.

As dawn began to break, a bustling crowd of tourists filed into the main square, excitedly chattering and pointing at the futuristic skyscrapers that soared above them. Children clutched the hands of their parents, their wide eyes reflecting the wonder of the island. Businessmen and women, carrying briefcases filled with world-altering proposals, hurriedly walked to their respective meetings. The murmur of conversations in multiple languages merged to create a lively symphony of international harmony.

Suddenly, every screen on the island blinked and went black. Conversations hushed as confusion rippled through the crowd. Moments later, a single face appeared on the screens, pale and scarred, framed by unruly blue hair. It was Shigaraki Tomura, leader of the League of Villains.

"Good morning, citizens," his voice echoed, icy and foreboding. The square, which was filled with chatter just moments ago, fell into an unsettling silence. Every eye was fixed on the screen, a rising sense of dread palpable in the air.

Shigaraki's lips curled into a sinister smile. "This is the League of Villains speaking. You have exactly five minutes to seek shelter in the bunkers," he paused, letting his words sink in before adding, "After that, anyone left outside will be eliminated."

A collective gasp echoed across the square. Parents clutched their children tighter, their faces paling with fear. The initial shock gave way to panic as tourists began to scramble in all directions.

"We need to find a bunker!" shouted a mother, her voice shrill with fear, as she tried to navigate the chaotic sea of people with her children in tow.

"I don't even know where they are!" cried a young man, his eyes darting frantically.

The screens now showcased a countdown timer, its red digits ticking away the seconds. Shigaraki's laughter reverberated eerily, a chilling backdrop to the frenzied scene.

Inside the Council's chamber, the twelve members watched the chaos unfold, expressions of anger and disbelief etched onto their faces.

"Who does he think he is?" thundered an elderly member, his cane slamming onto the floor for emphasis.

The leader  stood up. His deep voice commanded immediate attention. "Protect the civilians! We have a reputation to uphold. Not a child will go missing on this island."

Another council member, a woman with raven-black hair and a striking red dress, responded immediately. "We must initiate the emergency protocols and guide the people to safety. The island’s defenses need to be activated."

"I will handle the island's security systems," declared a man with a cybernetic arm, his fingers already dancing over a holographic keyboard. "We can deploy the defense drones to secure the perimeter."

A statuesque woman, adorned with elegant jewels, voiced her concerns, "Our information network must remain intact. We cannot afford any disruptions. We need to know what the League is planning at every step."

A younger member, probably the youngest of them all, with a fiery spark in his eyes, chimed in, "I've got contacts on the mainland. Let's alert them about the situation. We might need backup."

The leader nodded in acknowledgment, pointing to the member with a scar running down his cheek. "Use the island's satellite system to send out a distress signal. Make sure our allies are informed."

The man with the scar on his cheek quickly analyzed the island's coordinates and available resources, his fingers moving swiftly over a panel of controls. The room fell silent, the tension rising as they all awaited his assessment.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration. "We're at the point where we're furthest from any land at the moment. The League's attack wasn't haphazard. They calculated this. The closest nation is Tristan da Cunha, and it's more than 2,400 kilometers away. It will take at least six hours for reinforcements to arrive. By then, we're on our own."

The words hung heavily in the room, a stark reminder of the vulnerability they now faced.

The leader's eyes narrowed, his jaw setting with determination. "Since they are attacking, we can assume a few High End Nomus are involved. If not, try to lay low. Monetary loss is okay, but no civilian should be killed. It would ruin our credibility. We'll have to adjust our forces according to theirs. If necessary, we too will step up."

"But that's insane!" the young member protested, his voice filled with disbelief. "If we reveal our true strength, it could create a panic among our own people. Not to mention, it would alert our enemies to our capabilities."

The woman with the elegant jewels shook her head, her voice soft but firm. "He's right. We must act cautiously. This island thrives on the trust and faith of the world. If that's shattered, all our efforts will be in vain."

The cybernetic man, focused on his task, spoke up. "I've activated the defense drones. They should provide some resistance, but I don't know how long they can hold off the High-End Nomus."

The leader's face was etched with resolve as he stood, his hands resting on the table. "We have to take this one step at a time. We'll first ensure the safety of the civilians and evaluate the League's forces. Only then will we decide on our course of action."

Soon, 5 minutes were up. Luckily, I-Island had taken precautions for such situations, and not a single citizen was on the streets. They were all in bunkers, safely tucked behind steel walls. Enforcers, I-Island technological weapons, drones, people with Quirks filled the streets, ready for the attack. They were ready for anything—Nomus, hundreds of villains. Anything. But when a spiraling warp gate opened in the sky, and a giant creature fell right in the middle of the island, they were all terrified. Gigantomachia landed.

The ground quaked with the impact, windows shattering, buildings trembling as the enormous creature let out a deafening roar that echoed across the island. Its gigantic form dwarfed everything around it, its face twisted in a grimace of monstrous hunger and rage.

The people on the street, brave soldiers and heroes prepared to face the worst, froze at the sight of the beast. Their faces pale, mouths agape, terror etched in their eyes.

"What in the world is that?" one of the enforcers stammered, his voice trembling.

"I've never seen anything like it," another one muttered, her hands clutching her weapon tightly.

Inside the Council's chamber, the room fell into stunned silence as they watched the horrifying spectacle on their screens.

"Is that…?" the young member's voice trailed off, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the creature.

"I don't believe it," the cybernetic man whispered, his eyes wide.

"It's beyond anything we've ever faced," the woman with the jewels murmured, her face ashen.

The leader's face was a mask of grim determination. "This changes everything," he said, his voice resonating with authority. "We need to act, and we need to act now. Our defenses may not be enough."

The screen shifted to the terrified faces of the enforcers, their hands trembling, their eyes wide with disbelief.