He's a Warmblood, this world's blood magic version of being Quirkless. He doesn't have anything to experience the effects of the curse being enacted on his behalf. He's already given away its best surge of power--or lack thereof--the inert quality that makes it ideal for treating Corruption and Beasthood.

As on the beach, someone speaks in another's voice, but it is not an Omen. It is Paul. Midoriya bends more securely over Paul, then curves them both into a bow, their hair nearly touching the grass. Those that would be superhuman are so small in front of the armored god.

"Thank you," he growls fiercely.

Then she is gone as quickly as she appeared, and air rushes to fill the void she left behind. The deep slit she left in the ground yawns balefully up at the sky. Finally, Midoriya disarms his Quirk. He sits up and supports Paul's weight against him. Amidst the uncoiling shock of relief, he attempts to grasp Paul's hand to stem the blood flow. His own face is smeared with rust.

"What happened to your voice?" he gasps. His own is thin and tremulous.