Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Checkmate."

Oh, how he loved to say that. The expression on opponents faces was always priceless. The moment their surety of victory morphed into an amalgamation of hate, fear and confusion. The emotion had no name and was fleeting at best, but was never the less fascinating as ever.

"...What?"

"Checkmate." Repeated the child to the increasingly confused creature. The kid looked no older than 10 years old physically, though had the eyes of a man that had seen the void’s depths. His pale skin contradicts this with youthful vigour, though was tarnished by a dark scar running from the hairline of deep green to his left eyebrow.

The opponent tore itself away from the anomalous child ant turned back to the board, eyes full of disbelief. "N- no-no, impossible. You must be mistaken. Look, I can move he-" 

The child quickly interrupted the rambling opponent. "No, you must be mistaken. I'll be taking that reward now if you don’t mind, Keeper." He was growing potentially irritated. Wary of the civil conversation descending into a meaningless back-and-forth.

The creature across from the boy was almost shaking from anger at his dismissal. To be fair, The Keeper was never one to lose bets, let alone ones with mortals, and especially not ones ignorant enough to challenge them to a game of wits. The Keeper took a moment to compose itself before bringing its many, many arms together in an accusatory pose. It asked it’s next questions slowly, carefully, treading on paths less travelled.

"Just who are you, boy?” Was that interest in its tone, or fear? 

“You invade my home just propose a bet with such high stakes and such little gain… Yet you act as if it is a common occurrence, a natural one at that." A pause. No reaction from the boy, instead he stared intently at the Keeper with those infinitely old eyes. The Keeper seemed to shudder for a moment before reaching into one of its many bags strapped on its body. A small glowing cube was produced from within. It had something dark and rectangular shifting within, like one of those $2 mystery balls with shitty “collectible” plastic figures inside. The Keeper held the cube up to a small light source to confirm its contents before glancing up at the strange boy across from him.

“You should know, I have long since lost to a game of wits-”

With a fluid movement, the cube began to disintegrate.

To the kid’s left, a small rectangular object began to materialise, the same one that was once in the peculiar cube. It shifted and shuddered through the fabric of reality. Long years of neglect from the universe taking its toll. Truly lost objects could find it near impossible to reintegrate into the land of existence. The boy knew this better than anyone.

He reached out to grab it as it finished forming.

"I would almost be impressed by your feat if your choice of reward was not so… disappointing, at best. To think such an intelligent mortal would choose such a useless, unloved and lost object over all else." A few dozen hands gestured vaguely in the direction of the object.

"You do understand the properties of a completely lost object, no? Fallen through reality after being forgotten, with nobody to even acknowledge their existence they descend. Why in the name of The Void would a mortal seek to reclaim such a-"

The beings’ monologue was interrupted by the sight of the boy turning the object over in his hands with a peculiar expression plastered across his face. It almost looked like… nostalgia? Pride?

The boy sighed with prize now in hand, how could anybody have such a reaction to something so long forgotten? Even The Keeper, the strange being responsible for collecting any lost objects from the mortal realms as per its strange hobby, didn’t truly understand what kind of significance the notebook in the boy's hands could have posed even before falling.

The book housed a number of mysterious burn marks and faded pages that The Keeper could never discern the origins of. To The Keeper, it was just another result of mortal’s shattered dreams and forgotten legacies. The title too, held its own mysteries, hinting at a past of unwavering determination and yet- it fell to the void still.

Despite the peculiarities the book held, the boy paid them no mind. Instead running his fingers along the edges of every burn as if he knew exactly how and when they were formed. Turning the notebook over, a title was revealed…

Hero Analysis For The Future: No.13

The keeper watched over the interaction dumbfounded, though could not voice its concerns before the boy spoke without looking up from the object.

"You know, even if I never had the chance to write this, it still feels nice to hold it, nostalgic, almost. It's a weird feeling, really." Said izuku in a tired voice, the smile remaining all the same. If only The Keeper knew the true value of such a supposedly forgotten piece.

If the Keeper was freaking out about losing a game of chess to a teenage boy, it was internally screaming by now.

"Y- you. Wha- Mortal, surely you do not mean..."

"This was nice." Said Izuku suddenly interrupting once more, looking up with a small- yet sad grin. "We should do this again someday. I’m… Sorry- that I can't stick around any longer, I'm already a few moments late for last week's window."

The many-armed being was about to respond, however, found itself unable to. The boy was already gone... The only thing hinting to their existence being the silence in his wake.

The Keeper fell to its knees with the true significance of the meeting finally becoming clear. Looking to dark skies, tears of fear and joy fell to the thirsting earth. The echoing laughter of dying gods filled their ears. To be shown mercy from ‘He who uses reality as their personal plaything’ was not something to be taken lightly.

"Th- The Fallen One… He shows mercy once more.” The Keeper whispered through its alien sobs before curling up and completely breaking down into hysterics. It would remain that way for the next few millennia as time held little meaning in The Void. Well- little meaning to all except Him.

The Fallen One, The Revenant, The Beast of the Depths, The Terrible Destroyer and The Great Saviour.

To Izuku Midoriya, time was not something to pass so ignorantly… time was all he had left.

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10 years ago:

“I- I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. Could you please rephrase that sir?”
Inko Midoriya gripped her son’s hand with all the strength she could muster. Admittedly, it wasn’t much at the moment.

“Er... Yes, Ms Midoriya... It appears that your son does have a Quirk, as evidenced by his lack of the pinky toe joint early researchers determined a telltale sign of a Quirk being present. This is further evidenced by the results we got from testing a few days ago…”

“I understand this, sir, but why are you saying this as if Izuku has no quirk at all?”

The four-year-old beside Inko was sitting stock-still in his chair. He looked off into blank space with a wide and- unnatural smile- plastered across his face. It was forced, but not out of politeness, it’s just that shock refused to let go of his current features. The only true emotions one could read from the child were in his eyes. They were… distressed? No, nothing so complex could be summed up in a single word.

Izuku knew exactly what the nice doctor was trying to explain for the seventh time in slightly different contexts. His mother may have yet to accept it, but Izuku was smart, abnormally for his age. He had a love for quirks that may well have surpassed some of the greatest researchers known to the modern world and yet- despite his crystal clear understanding of the situation- he could not for the life of him figure out why it was so. Not from a logical standpoint, but from something much deeper, far older. It just seemed so…

Unfair…

“-You see, children do not always inherit their parents' given Quirks.” The doctor explained once more.

“Sometimes, mutations occur, as with all things regarding evolution and genes. Sometimes, a Quirk will manifest that shifts from the natural flow. This mutation may take small alterations to a familial Quirk o- or sometimes far more drastic ones.”

The poor doctor was trying so hard to deliver the news gently. Izuku could see that, and in any other situation, he would be grateful.

“In your sons’ case, th- the mutation was rather large. In fact, the chances of such an event occurring are so small that as far as we can tell, Izuku may be the first case of this kin-”

“Please, sir. Please just tell me what the matter is.” Inko pleaded, though her voice was weak. Beginning to shake with the first signs of despair. Izuku wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to tell her everything was alright but… he wasn’t so sure he was in any state to do so. Even he wouldn’t believe his words.

The doctor across from the pair was visibly distressed. Was it the eager stories Izuku had been telling him up until a few minutes ago? Was it the dreams he painted in such vivid detail and breathtaking optimism? The way his eyes shone with hope that near blinded anyone who dared to look? Or was it what sat before him now? A mere shadow of what had once been?

He sighed shakily, absently shuffling some papers in front of him.

“Ms Midoriya. There are some people in this world are born with quirks that are so subtle they can go their entire lives without noticing their existence. In such cases, these people can still live perfectly functional, normal lives.”

A pause. The hand over Izuku’s loosened slightly. Tears started to threaten the edge of Inko’s view as Izuku looked up to her with a smile that should never have to be worn by a four-year-old. It was fake, a cheap imitation of the real thing.

“Your son was born with one such quirk.” The doctor turned in his chair, he couldn’t bear watching the scene unfold in front of him. Was he responsible for the unfortunate turn of events? No, not at all. But he was the one responsible for telling this mother’s four-year-old child, the same one who had burst into his office near screaming his ambitions of becoming the world's greatest hero, that he was essentially Quirkless. He was the one responsible for crushing this child’s dreams.

“Adaptation. That is what Izuku’s quirk has been called.” He began, not daring to meet the eyes of the child.

“Izuku’s cells seem to adapt at an unprecedented rate. Naturally, the rate of evolution is entirely dictated by reproduction across many, many generations of a species. Theoretically, Izuku could achieve such changes alone. However, the time needed to see even the most minuscule in biological changes would still far exceed the average human’s lifespan. Not to mention the environment needed to create such changes would destroy the person’s body long before that could happen.”

With a sharp intake, the doctor mustered the courage to turn back and address his patient formally.

“N- now Izuku, you need to keep in mind that you can still live a perfectly norm-”

But there was nobody listening. Nothing else present but the door to his office closing with a soft click and the terrible silence that followed.

The Midoriyas would receive their Quirk testing fees in the mail a few days after, as per regulations for such events.

Time, with no regard for emotions, would pass all the same.

Chapter Text

The car ride home was silent. Neither Inko nor Izuku dared to break the solemn quiet that befell them. 

Izuku would like to think that the reason for the silence was all of the thoughts rushing through his child-brain, but that would be a terrible lie. In actual fact there was nothing. His mind was a barren hellscape following the apocalypse that was the nature of his Quirk.

There was no excited internal monologue, no eager plans for the future, no words slipping through the cracks in absent-minded mutterings.

Absolutely nothing.

Inko tried her hardest not to stare at the shell of the thing that was once her son. He was staring straight ahead but she could see nothing was registering. He had lost the gleam in his eye. Even his little smile was missing- the same smile he’d worn through everything life had thrown at him thus far. Even if not for himself, he’d smile for other people.

That smile was dead. She could do nothing but sit idly by as she watched it perish.

Later - Midoriya Residence

Inko woke with the innate feeling of wrong .

Like when you wake up from that damned falling sensation. Your mind and body shrieking at you in unison like it’s your fault you’re in that situation.

The Midoriya residence was by no means shabby. The funds that Hisashi sent through (or was rather forced to pay) on top of what she already earned as an accountant was enough to let the two live comfortably. This being said the walls could still be described as being paper-thin. One could hear even the smallest of sounds from across the house under the right conditions.

This didn’t make it any less concerning to hear the soft whirring of computer fans from the study just down the hall. She glanced to her bedside alarm.

-2:26AM-

Creeping out from under the sheets, Inko slinked down the hall trying to make as little sound as possible. The lights to the office weren’t on, but a small gap in the door revealed a dim and shifting light seeping through, the computer was definitely on.

She stopped at the door, hand resting on the handle. She already had an idea of what she was going to find on the other side, but nothing could have prepared her for the scene playing inside.

Izuku was sitting at the desk, only his soft locks of flowing green hair were visible over the much larger seat. Inko was not a tall person by any means, but Izuku couldn’t even touch the floor from a sitting position.

He sat in complete silence before the computer screen- Had he talked at all since yesterday?

In his tiny hands, Izuku clutched his favourite All Might figure. The screen that lit the entire room in an ever-changing array of colours was playing an old recording of the number one hero.

It was from the shaky perspective of an onlooker’s phone. Running commentary coming out in a shaky unbelieving voice.

There was no sound coming through the monitor’s speakers. Izuku had made sure to keep it off so as not to disturb his mother. It wasn’t like he needed the sound to know exactly what was happening in the video. He’d seen it countless times, hell, half of the views on the recording could have been Izuku’s alone, easily.

He mouthed every word that would have been spoken just out of habit. He didn’t notice his mother creeping through the door behind him.

It’s fine now… 

Izuku mimicked in a silent breath. Inko walking silently to stand behind her son. He looked down at the figure in his hands, forever stuck in a heroic pose, a smile so wide it threatened to tear the #1’s face apart.

Why? Because I am here… 

Izuku reached his hand out to his left, figure in hand. The video stopped as he let the toy fall from his grip into the bin beside the chair. The fall was uneventful. There were no choruses of weeping angels. No emotions to accentuate the gesture that Izuku would have once found blasphemous.

It was then, as his mother fell to her knees beside him and embraced Izuku in a monstrous hug, that Izuku realised a terrible truth:

Things may inspire hope, but nothing was unkillable. Not even dreams .

To say that Inko was at a loss would be a drastic understatement. The mother had felt every crack in her unstable heart form that day. But this was the deciding blow, seeing her son in such a state.

One could argue that having a ‘Useless Quirk’ invoked more pity than never having one at all. Not only did the individual have to come to terms with their own shortcomings, but they also had to live with what could be described as dead weight dragging them down; like an extra limb with no function. It was there- just that it only served as an inconvenience.

The woman looked into her son’s glazed over eyes and reached deep into her motherly instincts. What was she supposed to say here?

In an infinite number of other realities. A near-identical scene plays. This moment, and many others like it, are what defines Izuku as a person. The people that either support his dreams, lift them high for the world to see and stand firm with him- or the ones that crumble and drag the boy down with them…

“Izuku… My sweet, dear baby boy…” Inko began, composing herself as she spoke. What was she supposed to say? That she was sorry?

Whether they realise it or not, each Inko plays a vital role in an Izuku’s story- either directly or indirectly. Save for those instances where Ink has never been present yet the boy still exists in spirit. In oh so many realities, the vital Inko becomes yet another name added to a long line of pity directed at their son… 

“Izuku, you can achieve your dreams. Whether you believe it yourself right now or not, I will always believe in you. Do you hear me?” She spoke with a sort of firm and confident aura about her. The kind to inspire nations and give rise to world-shaking events.

Izuku would often revisit this moment in time when he felt lost, less than human. When the price he paid for survival was too great, the words of his mother never felt to bring him back to reality- even when there was none.

But the moment didn’t ever inspire him, it didn’t invoke courage or a will to fight- no. 

What it did make him feel, and ever fail to do so, was that those words- so carefully chosen for the one she loved so much…

They were wasted on him.

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“The nation was rocked this morning at 2:50AM when a devastating expl-”

“Reports say that the blast’s epicentre may have been what was once Mustafu. As of right now, there have been no-”

“An apocalyptic event that could only be described as a supernova completely levelled Mustafu in the early hours of this morn-”

“No possible survivors from anywhere within the resulting ruins are able to be recovered as of yet. Unstable conditions and-”

“Witness reports from morning commuters in the nearby Tokyo City describe the detonation as being like a second sun on the horizon. The blinding white light even sending some individua-”

There was nothing left. 

Those were his first thoughts.

Actually, there was nothing at all. Where was everything? This wasn’t right. He was just with his mum. He had just been told that she believed in him, so where was she?

Was he dreaming? Had she really said any of that? Shouldn’t he be awake by now? What was the weird scratchy sound he could hear all around him, why was that the only sound? Where was the sound of home and people and life?

...

Why couldn’t he feel anything?

And at the same time…

…

Why did he feel so alone?

Chapter Text

He’d like to say there was an endless sea of darkness, like he was floating somewhere, in something tangible. But even that vague concept was too much.

There being darkness would imply that there was light to combat it, that things like good or evil existed wherever he was, that there were two intangible yet very real forces at play.

But there was nothing.

He could hear, but there wasn’t anything to make noise.

He could speak, but there was nothing to talk about.

He could think, but there was nothing to register.

He could see, but there was nothing to acknowledge.

He could feel, but there was nothing to touch.

It was almost like describing whatever situation he was in as ‘nothingness’ was speaking too highly. 

More like the universe just decided to start counting in negative numbers all of a sudden, and then decided ‘you know what, fuck you’ and then divided everything by zero.

Was this part of his quirk? Did the doctor get it wrong?! He could be a hero, couldn’t he?! What would the applications of this be? Could he put other people in the situation he was in? How long would he be able to do that? 

For a while, his innocent 4-year-old fanboy brain took over. Attempting to rationalise the irrational but also trying to make light of an otherwise unknown situation. He was young and scared, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. Anyway, he was alive…? Right?

Although he could still do all of the things a normal human should be able to, he had no drive to do them. To call out into the nothi- the whatever he was in- seemed pointless, like he’d be stepping over some metaphorical line to disturb the whatever even further. There was this deep, ingrained and primal instinct that he was never supposed to bear witness to whatever this was. As if he’d stumbled across some closely guarded secret.

But that just begged the question… whose secret was it to keep?

Almost instantly, Izuku got his answer in the form of searing pain. A white-hot pain so intense it couldn’t even be described by the mortal tongue. It wormed its way into his very being as if it wasn’t Izuku himself being torn apart, but the abstract idea of Izuku being torn apart, as if it was all that defined him.

One could say he did not scream, as there was nobody to listen.

Nevertheless, Izuku had learned the first rule of this new place:

Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t know the answer to.

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- P̡r͘es̵en̨t Da̵y -

Izuku sat in the comforting embrace of a rather large wing chair. The notebook he’d won from The Keeper resting in his lap as he slowly flipped through the pages, admiring his handiwork.

“I really am excellent at what I do, aren’t I?” He mused. The detailed analysis of heroes was rather impressive, but it was the hidden meaning behind the notebook in his hands that really earned his respect. To think that, despite years of abuse, pity and disappointments, that he’d still cling on to what made him, him.

Yeah, he was awesome, he knew it. All Might had nothing on this greenette.

If there was one thing that Izuku understood, it was the value of self-care. To respect oneself is to nurture traits- whether they were good or bad should be of no concern. One cannot change the sun because it so stubbornly refuses to not stop handing out tumors like they were shitty supermarket coupons.

Either way, despite everything that had happened over the past years, Izuku was… happy. Or rather content with the outcome. He’d had so, so much time to reflect, and with enough time- someone can be convinced of anything.

Izuku was rather rudely interrupted from his silent monologue by a grandfather clock tolling as it floated by him. The hour was irrelevant, as were all hours, hands of the clock face spinning in every direction anyway. The sound did, however, in losing its original purpose, hold meaning.

It was the aptly named “I’m About To Fucking Die Alarm”

“Ah, about that time is it?” He asked nobody in particular.

The lovely chair he sat in began moving slowly towards a desk a few hundred meters away. After about 5 seconds he was there. Izuku’s stubbornness and refusal to move from where he sat was more than enough of an excuse to bend the laws of mortals every now and again.

When did I start calling them mortals? He pondered as a small screen blinked to life in front of him. He didn’t really need to use such archaic methods of technology, but it was kind of nostalgic in a weird way.

Well, that, and I couldn’t be bothered returning it, so I might as well use it.

He typed a few things into the console before sitting back. In the corner of the screen, a live feed played from several impossible angles on a certain scene. It was him, Izuku Midoriya, running at top speed through burning streets and destroyed lanes towards a certain dark alleyway with a certain noseless toad-looking mouth breather, standing over a certain blue-haired idiot.

Why was Izuku watching this? Well, he was about to die of course.

Unless he did his job.

Sighing, Izuku typed out a simple message and hit send. Once more sitting back to watch his handiwork. Not long after, baby Endeavour showed up to help him. The rest of the scene played out without any noticeable changes, but he thought it best to check anyway- The Butterfly Effect was a bitch.

The Izuku from the Stain incident would later thank Todoroki for showing up when he did, and internally praise himself for the quick thinking of sending out his location.

He would never question why his phone would later alert him to the that his message didn’t send, stupid phone, how else would Todoroki have known where he was?

Life continued as normal.

“Another productive day.” Confirmed Izuku as he closed the screen.

He’d been following a few specific realities for a while now, the interesting ones anyway. The one he just tweaked a little bit was one he enjoyed in particular. He was probably closest to his most pure self in that one, by simple terms anyway.

It was a sort of pet project to keep it running, he did admit, that Izuku had negligible self-preservation skills, honestly, it was a wonder how he’d gotten that far in the first place- but there he was… living his first dream like a champ.

“Yeah, I’m cool.”

It wasn’t that Izuku was opposed to dying that got him into the habit of saving himself.

It wasn’t that he was bored , he had plenty to do and he’d already lived enough eternities to know that good things come to those who wait.

It wasn’t that he was lonely where he was. He liked his own company, and he had enough of himself to go around.

“… It just feels nice to be human every now and again…“ He smiled to himself before turning to look at an ornate door to his left, sealed tight but seemingly leading to nowhere anyway.

“And they’re not ready just yet. Soon, but not yet…”

The door had a dim light hanging above it, illuminating the immediate area and breaking up the otherwise dull blackness around it. It had a small number 1 engraved into its centre, seemingly by hand.

At the base of the door lay a Welcome Home mat. It looked pristine, as if it had never been stepped on, never even approached, hardly acknowledged.

The mat didn’t face in towards where Izuku sat.

It faced out.

It wasn’t a greeting.

It was a farewell.

Chapter Text

The idea of nothingness is an odd one.

As humans, we aren’t quite able to grasp the concept, as all we’ve known since gaining our current level of sentience is what we’ve been taught by those around us. Even knowing that there are other people in our lives serves to fill in the gaps of nothing.

Thinking back to your earliest memory. Perhaps it’s the first time you read a book, rode a bike, ate your favourite food or simply shared a moment with someone. No matter how far you manage to think back, you never find the absolute absence of reality that we define nothingness with.

Sure, we can say; “But when you close your eyes, you can't see anything. That’s nothingness, right?”

Well, maybe by some definitions, but you’ve not gone blind when you close your eyes. You’re still seeing the something behind your eyelids, and you know that when you open your eyes that there will be the same world you closed them in. This surety that there will be something waiting for us at the end is what prevents us from absolute absence of something. Perhaps the last time you experienced not knowing there would be something waiting for you was as an infant, but I’ll just take a wild bet and say that you can’t remember that time, it’s irrelevant to your ongoing development as a human to remember. An odd concept, considering how important it seems.

The literal age-old debate of “What happens when I die?” will never truly be answered. Over human history, such an alien concept of something coming to an end has been explained through abstract ideas, religion, and other hopeful beliefs. Exactly what you would like to think happens when you eventually keel over may or may not be true, but it isn’t like you’ll be able to relay it back to your family after you’re gone.

We can’t quite grasp at exactly what consciousness is or the point when something develops it, but we know it exists… right? How else would we be able to have these abstract thoughts and wonder what exactly we are?

But if consciousness exists, and we know that there is a point where that consciousness leaves. Where does it go? Does it cease to exist? What does non-existence look like?

What does it feel like?

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He’d been in and out for some time now. The pattern of defiance and subservience like a dangerous dance Izuku refused to cease any time soon.

He would scream something out into the void.

“-EY! HEY! JUST LET ME SPEAK!-” 

And then the pain would hit him like an impenetrable wall, all would be silent again for an indeterminable amount of time.

And then he’d come rushing back, picking up where he left off.

“I’VE HAD IT WITH THE PAI-”

He was 4 years old, what else would you expect? 4 year-olds are stubborn.

“STOP DOING THA-”

Somewhere along the line, Izuku had mustered the ability to speak again. He was thinking, feeling, wanting. He wasn’t just an afterthought, he was existing .

“WHY WON’T YOU STOP!? I JU-”

However, as he’d soon after discovered, existence was rather frowned upon wherever he was.

“COULD YOU AT LEAST-”

He’d quickly grown irritated over the almost dismissive exchange between him and whatever else was there with him.

“IF YOU DON’T LET ME JU-”

Izuku was many things.

“ALL I WANT TO DO IS-”

But a quitter wasn’t one of them.

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Izuku’s patience was running thin.

What lay before him was a mess, it was taking him all his self-control to not interfere, but really. How could he be so fucking stupid?

“What were you thinking !?” He screeched into the screen before him.

“Oh, great. Now your arm’s broken, too. Fan-fucking-tastic Midoriya. I’m sure that’s really gonna help you save the kid.”

In all honesty, he knew that he should give himself more credit. The fact that he was even still standing after taking so many hits (whether they were self-inflicted or not) was praise-worthy enough. Sure, all Midoriya’s seemed to have rather high pain tolerance, he was no exception by far, but really??

He looked over to the I.A.T.F.D Alarm and eyed it suspiciously. How could he not be about to die right now?

“I swear to the Void. If this is some sort of cosmic punishment or test I will not hesitate to shift this hierarchy again.” He threatened seemingly nobody in particular. He knew they heard him though, it would be a cold day in hell when they dared to not listen.

Nothing. He sat back in his chair with a heaving sigh and watched silently.

“For being the closest one to actually getting anywhere in life, you sure are quick to throw it away.” He glared at the screen.

“Well, you always seem to pull some bullshit save out of your ass at the last minute, Izuku. How’re you gonna do it this time?”

“...”

The computer was sent flying through the Void as Midoriya took a shuddering breath of the most exhausted rage imaginable, bringing his hands up to his face in defeat. Izuku positively dripped with ‘I’m done’ energy.

“Fuck this. I gotta go get things set up anyway.”

He stood up and quickly stormed out in the opposite direction of the desk, jumping off the piece of rubble he called home and down into the darkness, muttering along the way in a mocking voice.

“Oh no, my arm’s broken, whatever shall I do? Fucking break my arm again , somehow, apparently. Fucking amateurs.”

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All Might sat with his knees tucked up to his chest in Tsukauchi’s office, eyes locked firmly in place at this one realllly interesting spot on the wall. The stool he sat on creaking and threatening to crumble under the blond behemoth’s weight.

At the other end of the room, Naomasa sat next to Eraserhead, both looking over at the oversized man-child with equal parts confusion and exhaustion. They’d already finished off their coffee reserved for the night and were running on pure determination, and maybe a little bit of whiskey.

Aizawa had arrived 5 minutes ago, though he hadn't spoken a single word since entering. Instead, falling into the same confused/ concerned silence as the detective.

“How long has he been like that?” Shouta finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him, seeing how All Might didn’t look like he’d be talking any time soon.

“I dunno. He was in here when I got back from a scene. One of the interns said that he hasn’t moved since he arrived.” He didn’t take his eyes off of the almost surreal image before him. Just what had sent the #1 into such a deep train of thought.

“So… why did you call me here?” Shouta had given up hope long ago that he’d get any sleep that night, but that didn’t mean he was any less irritated.

“You think I want to deal with this shit alone? You ever seen him like this?” They spoke in hushed tones, so as not to wake the giant from his slumber.

“Not that I recall, but-”

Eraserhead was suddenly cut off by All Might jumping to his feet, that dumb smile still plastered across his face as if nothing had happened.

“ Eraserhead! Perfect timing! Just the man I was looking for! ” 

Ah, and there was the headache, how ignorant he’d been to hope he’d get away without one when around the #1. Surely that voice had to be fake, right? No sane man would speak that way consistently.

“How nice of you to join us, All Might.” Shouta deadpanned. “Care to explain where exactly you’ve been?”

“ HAHAHA! Oh Eraserhead, good to see your humour hasn’t dwindled since last I saw you! ”

Aizawa couldn’t help but wonder how All Might spoke fluent exclamation mark.

Taking the dodged question as a sign, Eraser dropped the interrogation part of the meeting and just continued as normal. He was too tired to push for answers, not like the giant kid before him was normal, to begin with. Easier to just accept it at this point.

He gestured for All Might to continue. The detective did the same but he had something in his eyes that tipped Shouta off that there was far more to this exchange that he wasn’t in the know about.

Goddamn hero politics.

All Might produced a small folder and gently placed it in front of Shouta. Wait, All Might had actually done some information gathering? Since when did that happen?

Actually scratch that.”Information Gathering” was probably giving whatever was in front of him too much praise. There was a single sheet of paper in the folder that had the word Investigation handwritten in uneven highlighter.

Apparently it was meant to be some sort of mind map. But the only line coming off of the title was a single name, there wasn’t any picture of further information given.

Wait, scratch that, where did the folder even come from? He didn’t have pockets…

“ Investigations and espionage aren’t exactly my forte, you see. ” All Might said without even a hint of embarrassment, was he proud of that fact?

“ I would like to request as much information you can find on this person as possible. I’m afraid the circumstances are rather confidential- ” 

There was that look in the detective’s eyes again, seriously, what was this?

“ From what I’ve heard, you’re the best bet for this kind of thing. Tsukauchi here praises your work almost daily! Haha!”

“I never-”

“ You should find all the information you need to get started within this equally confidential document! I wish you the best of luck! ”

Both men stared expressionless as All Might proudly marched out of the room, closing the door slowly on his way out.

“Wha-”

“Tomorrow.” Aizawa cut him off before his headache could grow any further. The list of reasons to choke All Might to death inching dangerously close to reasons why it would be a bad idea.

“Shouldn’t we-”

“Tomorrow.” He repeated, producing his thin emergency sleeping bag from the depths of his costume. And lying down in the corner of the office. He might not be able to get to sleep, but anything was better than whatever fever-dream he’d just sat through.

Naomasa gave a half-hearted sigh as he slumped back in his chair. Looks like he had another All-Might-All-Nighter ahead of him. Fantastic.

The glances All Might had given him earlier had almost certainly confirmed his suspicions about what this was all about. But that wasn’t what concerned him.

What concerned the detective was the dismal amount of information that sat before him.

He flicked open the folder and stared at whatever rejected kindergarten application lay within.

He saw a butchered attempt at a mind map, a heretical display of what not to do with highlighter, and a single name underlined and circled about 50 times in different colours.

Now then. Who exactly are you? The detective pondered as he fought off sleep.

Izuku Midoriya.

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Anomalous Entity Class: Fallen, detected.

Report - Showed signs of sentience.

Attempting purge…

Anomalous Entity purged.

Probability of occurrence: Impossible.

Continuing to monitor…

--

Elapsed Time: Unknown

Anomalous Entity Class: Fallen, detected.

Report - Sentient entity. Status: Unknown.

Attempting Purge…

Anomalous Entity Purged.

Probability of occurrence: I͜m̶p͠o͠ss̷i͝b̵le.

Continuing to monitor…

--

Elapsed Time: Unknown

Anomalous Entity Class: Fallen, detected.

Report - Sentient entity. Status: Unknown.

Attempting Purge…

Anomalous Entity Purged.

Probability of occurrence: I͏mp͡o̶s҉s̸i̷ble.

Continuing to monitor…

--

Elapsed Time: Unknown

Anomalous Entity Class: Fallen, detected.

Report - Sentient entity. Status: Unknown.

Attempting Purge…

Anomalous Entity Purged.

Probability of occurrence: I̷̶mp͟o͜s͏s҉͟i̕b̵ļ̷̕e͜.̴͢

Continuing to monitor…

--

Elapsed Time: Unknown

Anomalous Entity Class: Fallen? Detected.

Report - Sentient entity. Status: Unknown.

Attempting Purge…

Anomalous Entity Purged.

Probability of occurrence: I̸͟͞m̶̨p҉̸̧o͏̡̕͞s̸̵͡͞s͏͡i̴͢͞b̨͢͏l̢̡ę̷̛.̷̛͜

Continuing to monitor…

--

Elapsed Time: C̴̶̴͓͎͖̊ͩ̎̀ͩͩ̿̔ͯ̋̊̓͑̇͌̄O͒ͦ̄̓̀̚̚҉̢̢͚̩̝̝̗̗͇̖͝R̲͖̰̠͖͙͎̩͕͉̞̻͗ͯ̅ͭͮͫ̃̚͢͜͞ͅR̵͋͗̇ͯ̋ͬ̍̔̋̾͋̑ͪͩ̽̚͠҉̯̲̘̦̩̯̩͜͜U̶̜̹̳̳̖͕͇͈͔͗̉̌̅͛͗̔͆ͥ̆͑͐ͩͭ̂ͩ́͑͘ͅP͖̖̳̯͆̏̉ͧͭ̊͊͛̍̌ͦ̇T̤̳̺̬͔̯͕̱͍̹̈́̿͂̆ͮͣ̊͌͠E͔̤͚̞̭̼̙̥̐̏ͨͫ͟͢Ḏ̢̞̜̝͉̭̻̲̂ͪͫͧͪ

Anomalous Entity Class: U̡͝n͠͞ķn͘ǫ̵w̷̧̛n͘ Detected.

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

Attempting Purge… 

...

--

Elapsed Time: [REDACTED] Years [Earth]

Anomalous Entity Class: E͢͏S̕͞͝C̡͘͢͜Ą̵͞͝͠P͡͠҉E̡͘͢ Detected.

Report - Unknown. Status: Unknown.

Attempting Purge…

Entity refuses to be purged… 

Chapter Text

Midoriya got back from his business venture later than he would have liked. Traversing his home was tedious at best, even for him at times. By the time he was back at home base, Izuku was already late to check-in.

It was only when his computer (fresh from the void) didn’t show any new anomalies that he let go of the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He didn’t quite know why he did it, sifting through the charts every cycle looking for even the smallest irregularity. There was never anything there of course, but at this point it was little more than a meaningless ritual rather than the nervous habit it stemmed from. Not like telling himself that would convince him to stop.

Sure, fine, it was supposed to be impossible. But if that was really the case then how did the universe explain him?

Izuku sighed, leaning back and trying to recall whether there was anything else he needed to sort before the stage was set. That was the thing with having goals, after not having them for a millennia, it was hard to accept anything less than perfection, if he could keep track of them in the first place.

“Ah shit. Why is this so stressful? I don’t get stressed. I never get stressed...”  

“...”

He jumped up and paced across the rubble around him, as he did so, a plain-looking oak door materialised in front of him.

“Jeeves?” He asked, turning his head slightly as he asked nearing the door.

“Sir?” Responded an endlessly deep, endlessly rebounding voice from the darkness around him. He would never not be amused by how his dear friend spoke.

“I’m heading out again. Need to let off some steam. Same deal as usual, keep me informed if anything out of the ordinary happens, if you would.”

“Of course, may the hunt be with you, Sir.” Jeeves said with a note of finality before all was silent once more.

Midoriya stepped through the door and disappeared. The door closed behind him and locked itself. 

It took a while for the silence to be broken, if one wasn’t listening they would never have noticed it. Through the door, a distant, shriek of something inhuman and impossible could be heard. Not long after, the sound of muffled laughter responded to its call. It wasn't the genuine, kind-hearted one usually associated with Midoriya’s instances. This was guttural, borderline hysteric- though undoubtedly in good spirits.

Self-care was important in the Void.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Toshinori slumped on a nearby bench, energy almost completely exhausted. Physically and mentally. He’d thought that going out on patrol would help with his nerves, but all it did was set him more on edge.

Sighing, he leant his head back, arms outstretched and legs lazily dragged out in front of himself. Supposedly trying his hand at imitating an anorexic starfish.

He was in his smaller form of course, even if the beach he sat at was rather unpopular due to the copious amounts of trash that had accumulated over the years, he figured anyone seeing All Might having a small internal crisis on a dirty bench wouldn’t exactly inspire the most hope in young hearts. Any hearts, for that matter.

He shouldn’t be worrying anyway, he’d already done all he could in his situation. Eraser was no doubt hot on the trail of that kid. Once he was identified, he could get some answers, and his mind would be at peace. These reassurances did little to ease his troubled nerves, and despite his best efforts his thoughts continued to wonder whatever he did to deserve the special kind of Hell the world intended to drag him through before he could truly rest.

“Just what in God’s name was that kid?...” He wondered out loud, growing tired. He’d never realised before now just how comfy these benches were.

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Yagi had been sprinting through the darkness of the sewers for a while now. He’d lost sight of the villain not long after descending, but if the trail of slime lining the wall beside him was any indication then he was heading in the right direction.

Until he had the foe within his grasp, he could only hope nobody would be caught in the crossfire. If the reports on this- thing were true, then it’s methods of evading justice were nothing short of nightmare-inducing.

It was as a chill ran down All Might’s spine that he heard the telltale sound of a manhole cover being thrown open. A few hundred meters to his left he just caught the form of a shadow retreating to the surface world as light spewed down from the opening.

It wasn’t half a second later that Toshinori burst through said opening, his mind running through every terrible scenario that could have occurred in his inability to see in the dark.

However, what he saw upon his eyes adjusting to the new light not only blew all of his expectations out of the water, but then went on to ruthlessly slaughter their shell shocked forms.

There was… a boy? No older than maybe 10 years old. At first, All Might was horrified by the prospect that the sludge villain had indeed claimed his “skin suit” to escape, and was almost prepared to break down into tears, before the kid gave a little smile to the blonde, presenting a large soda bottle holding the compressed and strangely docile villain.

The villain’s eyes were floating around inside the plastic prison. Not locking on any one thing, seemingly not registering anything at all in fact. They looked almost haunted, but Yagi placed that to the fact that this young man- no, this kid had just captured him in such an anti-climactic way. There didn’t even seem to be any signs of a struggle.

All Might was brought out of his stupor by the kid chucking the bottle-prison over to him. He caught it and quickly placed it in a large pocket of his pants, quickly slipping back into the All Might persona and throwing on the biggest smile he could manage.

“Young man!” He boomed.

“You really did a number on this guy!” He laughed, gesturing to the bottle, still smiling. He was still freaking out of course. What the hell was he supposed to say?! This kid was just smiling up at him with an expression he didn’t quite know the name of. It wasn’t quite fondness, almost more like nostalgia than anything. Wait, aren’t kids meant to be jumping up and down in glee by now? Wait, weren’t kids not supposed to subdue a villain in mere seconds?! No- no no, surely it was someone else. Another hero must have saved this kid and left him with the villain… No All Might, that made even less sense.

The kid just silently smiled up at the hero. Not a sound escaped either of them until the small green-haired boy gave a little chuckle. Not a giggle, like usual children, a chuckle- like a weathered old man reminiscing with an equally old friend.

“... Er- right! I should get this guy to the police station!” He declared in as hero-like fashion as he could, if not to invoke some sort of normal reaction from the boy.

“Thank you very much for all of your help, little hero! I assume you know how to get home from here?”
For a moment, something seemed to flash across the greenette’s eyes, those eyes that seemed too old for his body almost reflected some deep amusement. Like he just heard the greatest joke ever.

Nevertheless, he nodded politely in reply.

“Very well! I shall be off now... try to stay out of trouble, okay?” Said All Might as he readied himself to dash to the station. He gave a glance behind him to make sure the shockwave his start would give off wouldn't buffer the little kid, but when he looked back there was nobody behind him. 

If he could afford any more time in this form, he would immediately investigate to make sure the kid was okay, but Yagi could already feel the strain on his left side. 

He decided to go with his instincts that the boy would be safe.

It wasn’t 10 minutes later that Toshinori was strolling back along Dagobah beach. Well, the path alongside it anyway. There was too much trash built up to allow for peaceful strolls on the now contaminated sands.

It was as his eyes drifted along the trash-mountains that something caught his attention.

“Kid?...” He breathed silently, quietly so as not to give away the recognition in this different form, if his face didn’t already reflect it.

Said green-haired child was sitting cross-legged atop one of the tallest towers of rubbish. He stared at Toshi with the same indifferent politeness that he had earlier. Which was impossible, Yagi reminded himself, not like this youngster could recognise him in thi-

“Hello again.” Said the boy in a sweet tone

Yagi however, couldn’t reflect the sentiment back to him in his current state.

He knows?! How? What else does he know… Wait, no this could be a misunderstanding, I can salvage this situation.

“I’m sorry? I’m afraid I don-”

“All Might.” Completed the kid, sending Toshi spiralling down into a very dark pit of nerves.

He was about to crumble to the ground with the phantom pains across his left-hand side, before he somehow suddenly found himself being led to a nearby bench overlooking the beach.

When did he get there? Wasn’t he up on the pile?

The boy chuckled his old-man laugh again. Did he say that out loud?

It didn’t take the man long to collect himself once he was seated next to the greenette, however, once he was, he almost fell back off the seat as he recoiled away from the figure next to him in realisation.

He knows. He’s not in the group that should know. Did something happen? There’s only one explanation, but how could this kid be a villain? Does he have relations with him?...

“Wow, that’s almost hurtful Toshinori. Not even getting to know me before jumping to conclusions.” The kid was still laughing as he gave an outstretched hand to the skeletal man.

“Izuku Midoriya. A pleasure, sir.”

The ‘sir’ was almost strained, fake as if the boy Izuku was having almost a hard enough time acknowledging Yagi as an equal, let alone giving him a superior title. Was it cockiness or confidence behind that?

Needless to say, Yagi was hesitant in extending his own hand to shake Midoriyas, it felt like he was making some deal with the devil.

An uncomfortable (at least on Yagi’s part) silence befell the two of them as they looked out over the sea of waste and scrap.

“... How did you know?” Asked Toshinori after a long pause. As much as he almost didn’t want to know, he needed to.

“Is that really the most important thing on your mind right now? That important? If I’d told you that you get to ask one question before I disappear, would you have asked something different?”

Although it sounded like he was being told off (by a 10-year-old at that), something in Midoriya’s voice leant more on the side of intrigue than irritation, as if it was a genuine question.

“I know the same way anybody knows anything. Living long enough and seeing enough things helps.”

What was this kid? How did he simultaneously look so young and sound so old? And how did he make Toshi feel like more of a kid than him?!

“... oh… I- suppose, that makes sense?” It felt as if Toshi was treading on thin ice as he danced around under Izuku’s strange gaze.

“...”

“Can I ask another question?”

“Jesus Christ Yagi, you’re not in school, aren’t you the adult in this situation?” Yes, that was definitely amusement in Izuku’s tone. The little gremlin was enjoying messing with the man.

“Right.” Toshinori still had no Goddamn clue what he was supposed to ask. If the last answer was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be getting any straight answers without being persistent.

“Who are you?” He asked carefully.

“What do you mean? I introduced myself before, Izuku Midoriya.” He was still smiling, but this one seemed- happier? Damn it.

“Okay then, what are you?” He asked again

“Ouch, words hurt you know, Yagi.” He chuckled.

“Currently, I’m a civilian sitting by a friend on a bench. Same as you.”

Yagi’s head was in his hands as he mouthed what the fuck as silent as possible before falling silent yet again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh, how Izuku had missed this level of human interaction. It was almost an alien concept to him as he stood waiting by that sewer cover waiting for the sludge villain and the blond behemoth himself. Only able to muster the ability to smile and nod at best. But now that he’d had some time to collect himself he was on a role.

So what if he was probably driving the #1 to an early grave through stress alone, anybody would in his position, sue him.

He sat swinging his legs over the edge of the seat as All Might’s skeletal identity worked his way through a small mental breakdown. Had he revealed too much? No, surely not. Had things gone according to what he’s already seen plenty of times, he’d be aware of everything Toshi thinks he knows now anyway. It’s not like he was telling Yagi that All for One was alive, or that there were some particularly unsavoury plots to completely end his hero career in the works.

The boy sighed at the silence that befell them once more. That stuff could come later, for now, he just had to get some events in order and ready for the year.

“The truth is, All Might, that nothing you learn about me will make you any less confused, nor will it lead to any definitive answers. That can be for later when you’re not almost ready to bawl your eyes out on a dirty bench.”

Skeletor looked at him with a blank expression, giving Izuku his full attention but definitely reluctant to do so. Now that he thought about it, was a blank expression just thin-might’s default?

He continued.

“The only reason I’m here is as a guiding hand. I just needed you to stay here long enough to see something to set you on the right track.”

He looked down the path to see a figure approaching, Yagi followed his gaze and his eyes zeroed in on the figure, what was the kid saying?

The figure turned down off of the path and began walking along the beach towards some of the larger piles. From this distance, Toshinori could make out that the figure was another kid, though they looked older than Izuku- an acquaintance?

“No, he doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know you either, so don’t go scaring him off just yet with your frankly terrifying physique.”

Okay, ouch.

As they continued to observe the boy walk down the beach, Izuku began talking again.

“A heroic drive to get things done. The real spirit to do good-” Midoriya was smiling fondly as he and Yagi watched the boy pick up a microwave and move it up to the nearby carpark, to a large dumpster at its edge.

Toshinori watched intently as the person paced back to the beach, grab another destroyed hunk of junk, and make his way back to the dumpster.

A breath caught in Yagi’s throat as it registered what the boy was doing.

“That’s what you’re searching for, right? I… won’t get into specifics but- you and I both know that you need to get on with this whole successor business.”

The figure, now preparing to lift a small fridge from its tomb half-buried in the sand, threw the hoodie he’d been wearing off to the side to free himself up more.

He was well built for how old he looked. The boy gazed down at the mini-fridge, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead.

He had bright red hair so spiky it was rather obnoxious, but that wasn’t what Yagi was concerned about.

The boy, he was smiling as he worked. For seemingly no other reason than just because he could.

“Eijiro Kirishima. Aged 14, Quirk- Hardening. Does just as it says on the box, allows the user to harden any part of their body. Self-trained and powered by a will of steel.”

“I know that you had plans, that you wanted to wait for UA. But I also know that the sooner this happens, the more comfortable you’ll feel with your decision.”

“... I- “ 

Yagi wanted to say something, anything , to the boy sitting next to him. The boy he once thought to be the devil in disguise he now couldn’t see as anything other than an angel. A ray of sunshine in the darkness. Izuku cut in before he could form a sentence.

“Just think about it All Might. You’ll make the right decision. You always seem to find a way to, even if you get it wrong the first few times.” Izuku’s tone was… different. Gone was the tormenting gremlin or the old man, whoever had just spoken was more akin to a grieving widow. It sent momentary shivers down Yagi’s spine.

He was about to say something in response- but as he turned back to the spot beside him, now devoid of any green-headed angel, all he was greeted with was a slight breeze and a slip of paper lying where the kid once sat.

It was a brochure for UA High, the most prestigious hero academy in Japan. On the front of the paper were some large printed words with the school’s motto underneath.

  See you at UA!

Plus Ultra!

For the first time in a long while, Toshinori gave a genuine smile. Not one to mask his own fears or to lie to the public. This one was for himself.

And it felt nice.

Chapter Text

Whenever Izuku was taken by the pain he’d grown accustomed to, he called it being ‘reset’. He found that he always woke up again in the same position he’d arrived in. He didn’t feel any sort of emotion or have any opinions about his situation before the pain returned not long after. It was like he hadn’t been thrown back in that same position countless times before. What he found to dislike the most, was that each time he woke up as a blank slate, he was without fail given the smallest sliver of hope that it would be the last time.

And then the pain came back. The stabbing, white-hot pain from his core to remind him of his place.

Izuku didn't like the feeling of being reset. It felt dirty- unclean. As if something evil was trying to claw away at his soul. Something that wasn't quite right that was trying to latch onto him like a parasite. Every time it managed to take ahold of him, he tried his best to not think of the smell that came with it. It was a sort of fruity, tangy, sulphur-like smell that grew stronger with each passing and just felt wrong with each time. It wasn’t too long before he determined this to be the smell of death, and things long dead.

But he wasn’t dead. Right?... Right?

At some point, long after he’d grown accustomed to (but far from fond of) the smell of… that. Izuku acknowledged that the times between being destroyed were getting longer as if whatever was causing it was getting tired. He wasn’t sure where the idea came from, but he had the undying urge to escape, or at least get as far as possible away from where he always woke up before eventually being sent back. As far away from the growing scent of it.

It became a hobby of sorts, almost a game- to see how far he could get each time. He liked to think it kept his mind sharp, off of his situation and kept him closer to himself in a way.

Counting steps was his only real method of measurement of course, as everything looks the same when covered with a perpetual sheet of black.

He found himself thinking about things much more as he walked, as if he wasn't able to before, each step he took seemed to open new alcoves of his mind that were for some reason locked away.

If he was asked to describe it, it was as if his brain was being built from scratch, coming back faster each time he was reset. This quirk, whatever this was (It had to be a quirk right?), it sure was difficult to understand.

Izuku wasn't sure for how many attempts he'd been trudging through the endless night before the stabbing agony that once defined him began to dull to an ache. It was bearable enough to walk around 6400 steps away from his start, but he'd eventually grow exhausted from the endurance test it became, and succumb to the reset. 

Sometimes, the pain attempted (and at times succeeded) to flare up early and drag him back down to wherever he started, cutting his journey short.

It was around the 80th? 100th?... 200th? (keeping track was slowly becoming less and less important) reset post-walking that he actually stumbled across something other than the usual nothingness.

Just seeing something at all sent him into a shock-induced reset before he began sprinting off in the direction again ("direction" being whatever way he was facing when he woke up. As far as he could tell, there were no definite cardinal directions here).

What did he see, you ask? What caused Izuku’s mind to short circuit and effectively strike him down where he stood like some holy judgement?

Fucking light.

It was something he'd taken for granted for so long in his old life. The light from the sun, from electricity or even candles, was never some amazing discovery, just another fact of life... But now? Now that it was there- now that he could see something so mundane as light shining down on him after spending so long not seeing anything at all- he felt he could have endured the pain of being erased from existence another million times.

With a cautious hand, he reached a small hand out to the rays.

It was only then, under the warmth they provided, that he realised just how cold he'd been up until then. The dull ache receded, and he was left in absolute silence… Had he been screaming?

Then again, Izuku didn't cry whenever he awoke in darkness, he didn't register the implications that it held. His thoughts were not of his home, his life... his mother.

Not even when he lost count of the times he was forcibly torn apart did he feel that his emotions were valid, truly reflected his situation. As if his personality itself had been frozen in time and left behind- swallowed by a glacier of apathy.

Seeing those rays of light shine down from impossible angles as if he was looking up at a sunset from the bottom of the ocean or through a crystal lens, feel them gloss over his hand, the hand of a boy who had been torn from his reality, he felt the ice begin to melt.

For the first time since arriving here, Izuku wept.

For what seemed like an eternity, Izuku sat curled under those impossible rays of sunshine in the darkness and wept tears of sorrow, of joy, of hatred, of pain, of torment.
For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Izuku felt like a 4-year-old.
As tears fell and turned into nothing, he found himself growing so, so tired. Had he slept at all? Did he need to? Of course, he was only human.

His head hit the ground with a thud.

Looking back, Izuku would have liked to think he dreamed that time.
But dreams didn’t scream.

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Drip

What was that?

Drip

A new sound, the first sound, the last sound?

Drip

It echoed all around Izuku’s curled up form.

Drip

His eyes were closed, he’d been for a while… How long? Was he sleeping? Why?

Drip

The light was still there, he could feel its warm presence on his otherwise icy skin.

Drip

He had to focus for far longer than he would have liked to identify what that sound was though.

Drip

Wet? Water. Dropping from somewhere.

Drip

It sounded so close, but so far away at the same time. It was like it was bouncing off of the unseen walls of a cave. It was sort of muffled too, like he was listening through a thin wall.

Slowly, ever so slowly. Izuku opened his eyes. There was water in front of him. A puddle no larger than the size of his head was forming. There was something wrong with the puddle though, it wasn’t quite water. If anything, it had what looked like a consistency closer to honey.

Still not quite registering the strange addition to the otherwise bleak landscape, he brought a hand up from his side to touch it.
The strange liquid stuck to his finger kind of like cake mix. It was warm too, and it-

It smelt like something bad, something that sent him reeling back from where he lay, clutching his hand and hyperventilating.

Whatever that stuff was, it smelt like something dead. 

Long dead.

The boy's eyes trailed up from the light, the puddle and where he once sat. Up and up and up. Wherever that stuff was leaking from was so high up he couldn’t see it. The light didn’t reach that far. Its shimmering rays were too dim to show too much.

Izuku, however, didn’t have to see where it was coming from to hear it.

At first, it was like a chittering. The sound of mice scampering or thousands and thousands of insects congregating on a rare meal. However, as Izuku’s gaze neared where the sound seemed to originate from, it morphed into more of a gurgling. Raw and living. And angry.

The foul-smelling dripping liquid had stopped, but in its place was a wave of something Izuku couldn’t quite describe. It was a force that threatened to send him to his knees if he was any less on edge and prepared. Like a wave crashing against him, it sucked the air out of his lungs and sent his heart beating faster than necessary. Adrenaline surged through him as his eyes began to adjust from the dim light into the darkness.

Unbeknownst to Izuku, he had just felt what he would come to know as his first wave of pure, unadulterated bloodlust- Killing intent. Directed solely at him.

There was something. Something too big for Izuku to comprehend in that dark space behind the light. He only got a good glimpse of its sheer size as it stepped in front of the light seeping from the dark sky- as if it was blocking out the sun, protecting it, or just keeping it from Izuku as if it was never meant for him.

Never meant for him? He wasn’t allowed to enjoy the light? To be human?

That small act, probably just meant for intimidation, triggered something deep and primal within the boy’s soul. It wormed its way up through his gut and into his heart, infecting his thoughts and newfound emotions that the light had gifted back to him.

And this- this thing . This mass of gurgling, chittering, bumbling and fumbling bone, muscle and mucus- it denied him from the one thing that had let him feel human for so, so long… 

I͕̝t̗̟͘ ̶t̥h̝o͕̯̙̬͉u͈̪̝͚̙͔͉g̤̱͟h̛̳͔̞̮͍tͅ ̛͉̺i̟̺t̞͕̙̯ ̩͉̯̕h͚̱͖͇̱a͜d̳̰̰̮͎ ̸͕̣̙͈͚̫͇t̠͕͔̥̦h̵͍̜̬e͇̹̩͙̖ ̺̪̗̜̜̺͟r̳̳̫͙̥i̖͉̝͈g̰̗̟͇h̛͍t͏̭ ̹̪͖̻̦̬t͞o̬͇͇͓͖̗͘ ͎̣̦̘d̖̞̰o̻̗͇ ͚̗̩̘̫s̖̩͠ͅo̘͕̺?̹̥̖̦̺͉̯

He didn’t even register when the beast before him pierced him through the heart with an impossibly sharp claw. He didn’t register when he fell limp and felt blood gurgle up his throat and spill from his mouth. He didn’t register what could only look like a smile as it did so.

Izuku didn’t register anything as he woke up staring straight ahead into the void. The pain having returned with a vengeance.

And he didn’t register anything as he heard a distant cry of chittering victory in the blackness.

All he knew was rage

Well, at least his emotions still worked.

Chapter Text

Midoriya lay sprawled out across his oversized desk, absentmindedly flipping through textbook 13. He wasn’t really reading anything- just looking at the pictures- but that could be attributed to the sound of several versions of Careless Whisper blasting through a multitude of speakers around him in a symphony of saxophone, rubber chickens, 8 bit and bad ideas.

What was the point of all this? He asked himself the same thing every day.

What was he doing? Attempting to (forcefully) let his mind wander enough that he stopped anxiously checking, double-checking, triple and quadruple checking his checked checklists of what the hell the proper procedure was for integrating into society.

Hey, don’t blame him. Just because he was omniscient didn't mean he knew everything , alright? Wait-

Either way, no matter which way you look at it, he was still Izuku. Just because he’d spent the past few lifetimes floating around the void aimlessly didn’t change that. As far as he could tell, most Izuku’s didn’t lose their innate ability to be awkward unless they went through some sort of overly traumatic event. After seeing what some others had to go through, he didn’t see his own situation as too bad. Sure, he was alone (sort of) and he had to endure a few bad days (he was literally killed over and over in the most excruciating way imaginable), but hey- at least he wasn’t a test subject… or actually dead.

… 

He turned off the obnoxiously loud speakers and tossed the notebook out into the abyss, he’d get it later. For now, he figured the only way to calm his nerves (be they excited or anxious, he didn’t know) was to indulge in some unneeded, but still welcome reflection.

“So. Where to begin.” He asked nobody in particular.

How long had it been since he had that chat with Toshinori? 3 weeks? 5? They should have been getting along in their training by now. He wasn’t too sure why he pushed for Kirishima getting OFA. If he could sum it up to any one thing it would be… curiosity?

Or rather, curiosity into the intricacies of changing world events.
For instance, he’d noticed a few random tidbits around that instance of the universe while he was waiting for Yagi to come walking along. Small changes in the environment or overall ‘story’ as he’d come to call it.

As much as it irked him, Izuku could never find the cause for the changes between realities. They ranged from small things, like Ejiro having red hair long before UA, or the trees in the park being a few centimetres taller than usual. To surprisingly large changes- like Sir Nighteye and All Might being on agreeable terms for whatever reason (he would have supposed it was because Yagi could have agreed to take it easy all those years back, but it didn’t explain his presence that day). 

Changes rarely had much effect later in the story, but for something like All Might’s and Sir’s relationship not having crumbled, Mirio was all but overlooked- Yagi had no potential candidates before Izuku came barreling in to change things, and he was just gonna wait until the school year started to scout anybody. Not only would this have made OFA an easily noticeable addition, but also an unwelcome one to a student’s natural progression.

Izuku gave an indignant huff at the thought. Sure, the butterfly effect was a bitch, but would his absence and the events caused by it really lead to some things being so drastically different between realities?
He’d played around with the idea a few times with a few small-scale universes. But no matter what he did he couldn’t recreate the effects of these anomalous changes, let alone identify their cause.

Obviously he’d just need to pay some close attention to his little project if he wanted the desired outcome.

Ah, there he went again, thinking like he was some kind of God or mad scientist. He’d really have to curb those thoughts before the plan was in full motion- though breaking out into a full-blown monologue wasn't an alien concept to Izuku’s, he figured that if his mumblings were less about interesting Quirks and more about unexpected changes to the timeline then it may raise some concerns from his future peers.

Anyway, yes, Kirishima, OFA, good, yes.
In all honesty, Izuku kinda just wanted to see what would happen. It wasn’t like Kirishima was a bad choice for the next user. If anything, Ejiro ticked more boxes than even Izuku as he currently stood. Besides, Togata worked hard for his mastery over a highly unconventional Quirk as is, and throwing in OFA just seemed like too much.

Midoriya hadn’t seen too many instances of Kirishima with All Might’s power. It was almost as if he’d been overlooked by the universe more so than Izuku on more than one occasion.

He didn’t want to sound omnipotent or anything, but it felt right to give the guy a chance.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Plan.
One of Midoriya’s more productive schemes was birthed after a time when he came to the shocking conclusion that, despite all of his influence, he had no real purpose.
Now, to most beings in his position, growing stronger and more powerful would be a fantastic way to pass the time. However, Izuku had never exactly been the most ambitious thing in the Void, nor was he some sort of battle-crazed maniac like the things down below. Furthermore, he understood his limits unlike some of the other residents. He understood that just because he was the highest thing on the food chain in his own right, there was always a bigger fish. No matter how high one climbed, they would always be an ant in something else's path.

Luckily for him, the Void was seen as a sort of backwater realm. Funnily enough, not many things sought to get their hands on the place despite the insane potential it held. The amount of effort needed, its isolation and the detrimental effects it had on things that tried to exist within were just too great.

Because of this, Izuku didn’t have to worry about too much more than the occasional cocky bastard trying to shift the natural order or the odd overconfident suicidal idiot.

But, well, it wasn’t like the endless cycle of defending the nothingness from becoming something-ness, quelling unholy crusades and overseeing some of the more interesting realities were fulfilling activities. There came a point where the silver linings gave way, he understood that.

But he’d endure several more eons in Purgatory before he gave into his misery as he once did.

Thus, Izuku’s plan was set in motion.

In short, he was working towards being able to live a normal life.

Now, that may not sound too exciting compared to the reasoning behind it, but to Midoriya, it was kind of a last hope.

Since getting booted out of reality, it became apparent that- if he was ever to return to his previous world- he wouldn’t exactly be able to just pretend that nothing had ever happened.

He had no home to return to. No family to welcome him. And by all accounts, he should be dead, if there were any surviving records of him in the first place (Which, yes, there were- and they had proved to be a bitch of a thing to dispose of).

It was also established that he wouldn't be able to just follow the example of any other Izuku. As far as he could tell (and at times hope), he was a special case. No amount of self-sacrifice or social awkwardness would change that.

It didn’t help that some of the realities he’d monitored to gather information for how he could pull this off would just randomly stop progressing, in some cases vanishing altogether- as if some great author of the universe suddenly lost all interest in their work.

Just another thing to add to the pile of: “Why? Just because.”

All of this knowledge was all well and good, but getting down to business; how exactly do you get someone who’s been banished from their own world back in ?

Abuse of an ancient system, that’s how.

If the universe wanted each instance to be slightly different from the next, he’d let it. But he’d let it be different in the ways that he wanted.

Through his experiments, Izuku found that the material plane didn’t take kindly to anomalous entities, namely himself. He was supposed to be dead, more than dead in fact. Trying to get back in would just see him rudely spat back out as if he’d left a bad taste in the fabric of reality’s mouth. Not exactly useful in his endeavours.

However, what he did find useful, was that something only constituted as an anomaly if the inhabitants of a given reality deemed it so. In other words, if the people believe it, so too does the given plane of existence. Of course as with most things, a place's definition of wrong and right is dependent on its natives. It was just that for whatever reason, this extended to otherworldly entities and their rights to existence too.

Conclusion - Make sure nobody remembers him or anything that related to him in the time that he existed. Medical records, photos with him or any immediate family in the background, distant relative’s or people he’d passed on the street’s memories buried deep down in subconscious thought. A complete purge of any evidence that he’d ever walked the Earth whatsoever.

That process took… a lot longer than he’d expected really. Though it was a good lesson in task management, covert operations, and altering stranger’s memories.

Through trial and error, he’d found it far easier to plant suggestions of events in one’s subconscious rather than forcefully removing memories. It may have taken longer, but it proved surprisingly effective at preventing any unwanted amnesia or minor permanent loss of brain functionality.

With the relevant memories forcefully forgotten, so too was his inability to exist.

And all of that was the abridged version! In actual fact, the entire process took about [REDACTED] years! At least in Void terms.

To recap:

• He had access to the real world now and had a clean slate to work with. Good.
• The real world was highly unpredictable and he couldn’t rely on what he’s already seen. Bad.
• OFA is going strong and has a promising future in his reality. Good.
• AFO’s status as ‘deceased’ may be just as fake in this world as it is in most others. Bad.
• He was nearing his goal and would soon have a semi-permanent residence in his old world and be able to live out his past-selves dream as was his duty. Good.
• He needed to find some new music. Careless Whisper only got him so far before he had to resort to remixes, and the rest of his playlist wasn’t looking too good either. Good?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After some more thought, Izuku was content with where he currently stood. All he had to do now was wait.

…

“Hey, Jeeves?” He asked, looking up into nothing

“You called, sir?” Responded a voice of echoes.

He was truly thankful to Jeeves. Out of everything that he’d accumulated over his time spent in-between time, Jeeves was by far his favourite. He was a pleasant constant in the otherwise chaotic plains and a helpful one at that.

Izuku “acquired” Jeeves in one of his many adventures deeper into the Void, where things forgotten by reality are dumped and left to an endless existence of obsoleteness. Jeeves seemed to come from some sort of fantasy-esque existence.

Despite the obvious difference in power, the way Jeeves referred to Izuku as ‘sir’ and the unwavering loyalty, Midoriya liked to think of the two as equals in their own right.

Because in all honesty, if not equals then he wasn’t exactly sure what Jeeves was, other than the manifestation of what he needed most.

He wasn’t even sure what that meant, ‘what he needed most’ . He supposed it was a loyal friend or something to keep him company in the dark. Sure, he could ask and would be guaranteed a truthful answer, but decided not to pry either way- lest he not like the answer he got.

“How do you think they’re going with that investigation into me? The heroes from my old world, I mean?”

“I do believe they have hit a dead-end, sir. That being there are no records of you to be found.”

“Oh, so soon?”

He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, even though there would have been nothing more than the name of someone who never existed to go by.

He did make sure to be thorough in his work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in a cold, dimly lit detective’s office, two men sit side by side staring at a single name stuck up on the wall. Their eyes are dead, dark bags hang under them threatening to drag the men into an eternal stress-induced slumber.

One of the figures reaches over to top up the other’s glass, downing their own in one go. They’d found that drinking was far less fun when it was done out of spite.

Aizawa took in a shuddering breath as the detective let out an equally defeated sigh. Never in their careers had they ever met something like this. They’d even contacted All Might seven times that night, just confirming that he definitely heard the kid’s name right.

The door slammed open behind the duo, as light flooded the room with the form of the #1 himself, who was apparently incapable of coming through the door like a normal person.

“Greetings! I was passing by when I decided to pop in to see how you’re going with the investiga- AHGH!”

All Might’s monologue was cut short by the irritated grunt of Eraserhead and the thunk of an empty bottle of whiskey colliding with his head.

Oh, so it wasn’t exactly going Plus Ultra then...

Chapter Text

Elapsed Time: [REDACTED] Years [Earth]

Anomalous Entity Class: [New Entity] Detected.

Report - Unknown. Status: [New Entity] moving towards breach. Halt or slow progress at all costs.

Purge Attempts unsuccessful, relaying...

Relaying...

Relaying...

Entity Class: [Hunter] Dispatched to Site [Purgatory]

Entity: [Hunter] objective - Dispose of [New Entity]

Reason: Purge Attempts unsuccessful - possible through physical destruction.

Caution: [New Entity] Evolving, learning, growing.

Desired Outcome: Survival.

- - - - 

Izuku had never been a fighter, never been one to stand up for himself. Sometimes, when he would rather just wait for the monster to come to him instead of going to it, he would sit and wonder if that was the reason why he was in this never-ending loop in the first place.

Was this Hell? Was this a punishment for something? Should he have been better? What did he do wrong?

There was a distant throb in his skull, it had begun not long after his... 12th... death? From the mass of fleshy yet sharp appendages. Once more, he found himself losing count.

The ebb was a persistent one, made him wish for the beast to attack sooner at times, times when his resolve was even less than that of a human.

Other times he steeled himself, though that vigour was always chipped away at ever so slowly by the blackness. His morale at a constant height of nothing.

“Why does it seem like, whenever I get used to something here, whenever something starts being normal, it just throws something else at me?” He absentmindedly mumbled to himself at his ‘spawn-point’. He sat with his legs tucked up to his chest and arms curled tight around them.

He stared off into the inky blackness, straight ahead as always.

He could hear it now, the chittering. The scraping. The gurgling and moaning of whatever the fuck was out there. He could almost see it’s sacks of pus constantly bursting, forming and bursting again. The smell lingered through the whole area now, even death didn’t release him from its grasp. It hobbled, dragged and flopped through the haze. And it was drawing closer...

And Izuku was scared...

- - - -

Kirishima sat at the edge of his bed, looking down at his calloused hands with a mix of disbelief and...
Well, more disbelief, really.

If someone had told him that, while taking up the idea of a little bit of community service while he worked out, he’d run into the shrivelled form of All Might himself and then proceed to be asked if he wanted to TRAIN under the guidance of Small Might... well, he wouldn’t know what he’d have done, probably laughed?
It was just... just so out there you know? Who would believe THAT would be what his past few months would have consisted of.

So yes, there he sat. Silent, eyes wide. He felt perfectly justified while reflecting, considering what had happened that morning...

[Earlier that day]

“Hey! Mr Yagi, over here!” Yelled the redhead excitedly, waving his hands above his head from where he stood high above the beach. He was perched atop the very last pile of trash, newly transferred into the industrial dumpster in the nearby carpark. It was almost comedic how high the scrap pile towered above the edge of the dumpster’s top. How it managed to not topple over, he would never know- not that he was complaining.

“Young Kirishima! Are you sure that it’s safe to be up so high?!” All Might said in his usual fluster. Ejiro held back a laugh at the thought that he sounded more like a concerned father than the #1 Hero.
As he wondered over the synonymity of ‘hero’ and ‘father’, Ejiro slid down the tower of waste towards Dad Might.

“You worry too much Mr Yagi! It’s gonna take a bit more than a pile of trash to bring me down!”

He flashed Toshinori his trademark sharp-edged grin, today was a good day, after all.

He’d been up far earlier than usual, 4am in fact. Mr Yagi had told him that today he had something important to tell him, and he wanted to surprise the #1 by cleaning up another pile of trash... and then another... and another.

Honestly, he didn’t know how it happened. Once he started cleaning he just got into a rhythm and kept going. Before he knew it, it was 6:30... aaaaand the beach was clean!
He could have sworn there was more trash though. But it wasn’t like there was anyone else around, and the trash couldn't have just suddenly teleported into the void.

Mr Toshinori chuckled, glancing up at the trash pile, then back down to the empty beach. He took a discreet look around, looking for something else too, but Kirishima either didn’t notice or decided not to pry.

“It certainly will, young Kirishima. I can already tell how much stronger you’ve grown in the past few months alone. To think the energetic boy I happened upon that day would grow into such a diligent young man. I would never have expected you to clean all of the trash still left here by today! I must congratulate your efforts.”
There was something in his voice, it wasn’t quite a tremble, not quite a hint of doubt- but something that set Kirishima on edge. There was something on the skeletal mans’ mind.

There was a moment of awkward silence shared between the two, strained, before Yagi coughed, hacked up a few drops of blood.

With a flash, Kirishima produced a few tissues from his top pocket and presented them to his senior, to which Toshinori gratefully accepted.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get over the sight of emaciated man’s bloody spluttering. No matter how many times he’d assure him that it was normal, it just never felt... right. The fact that such a good man was condemned to such a degree of suffering.

“Thank you, Kirishima.” Yagi began, slowly, gathering his thoughts.

“I-” He sighed, pressing his thumb and index finger up to the bridge of his nose.

“Look.” He said after a moment, confirming whatever he had planned to say. “I’ll cut straight to the point, young Kirishima... what you’ve done over the past months, what you’ve shown me that you’re capable of, it has inspired me in a way that I haven't felt for... a long time.”

Kirishima was about to say something, some form of humble thanks, but Yagi held up a hand and continued speaking.

“But I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you, my boy...”

“Have you ever heard the name Izuku Midoriya?”

- - - -

Who was this Midoriya kid? How did he know him? And... why had he directed fucking All Might ’ s attention towards him!?
Should he have been thankful or afraid? Why were there so many goddamn questions?
Kirishima slumped down, head in his hands now. He was exhausted, mentally and physically.

Ejiro had known about One for All since the first day of his training under Yagi, that in itself had been a pretty goddamn huge punch to the gut of his worldview. He supposed it was his own ignorance that allowed him to believe there weren’t any more details to the whole situation he wasn’t aware of.

But didn’t it seem just a little bit over the top for there to be some sort of angel-demon-gremlin-ancient-young child had a hand in arguably the most powerful quirk in known history’s successor being chosen!?

The redhead looked up at the clock on his wall. 9pm. Hooboy. It had been a long ass day.
Let’s see... He thought.
- I inherited All Might’s quirk. Pretty big one.
- I cleaned up Dagobah, nice. Strangely easy. A product of training?
- I finished elementary school. Difficult, considering everything beforehand, not to mention me almost breaking the desk when I sat down and snapping 7 pencils trying to do my math test.
- I introduced my parents to All Might. Never thought I’d think those words... holy shit.
- I helped an old lady cross the street, nice and calm...
- And I was made aware of powers possibly beyond our own dimension. That is. Fuck.

His parents had been in shut down mode since the fourth one. Not that he could blame them. If anything, it felt nice to know that part of his own racing mind was justified in thinking this was all fucking batshit insane.

But it wasn’t like he had much time to gather his thoughts, the entrance exam to UA was in two days!
Oh yeah, great, something else to freak out about.

Prior to a few months ago, Kirishima just assumed that he’d try his best in the exam, but didn’t expect that he’d get very far with his quirk.
And then the universe decided to all of a sudden dump All Might and some sort of Lovecraftian horror-child at his doorstep. Probably the two strongest people in the world that he knew of- besides his parents of course, they always came first- for some reason believed that he could stand with the greats for no other reason than, what, his charisma?

Sighing, the redheaded teen pushed back and intended to lay back down on his bed sprawled out like an existential starfish.

What happened instead was-

Thunk.

“Ow! What the hell!? Who put a...”

He reached up behind his head, grasping at something hard underneath the covers. He tugged back the sheets and-

“Who put a... book?... Here?”

He sure as hell didn’t. All of his books were up neatly on his shelf. He may look like a ruffian to some, but he prided himself on his cleanliness.

It was an odd-looking thing. More like a binder in all honesty, kind of dirty too- as if it had been buried with someone long-dead.

He flipped it over, stared at the cover for a while.

“What. The. Everloving fuck am I looking at?”

One for All for Dummies - What you need to know and why
If the title wasn’t weird enough, the subtitle almost made him throw the book across the room.

“Because otherwise your limbs will probably explode.”

“Wha-”

“Violently.”

“Isn’t that what Mr Toshi-”

Kiri’s eyes were drawn to the bottom of the book’s cover before he could finish. This shit was too much.

“Nope.” He said, placing the book on his bedside table.

“NOPE!” He reaffirmed, turning off his lamp and getting under the covers of his bed. He wasn’t dealing with this shit now, this was a problem for future Kirishima.

As he closed his eyes and began the process of falling asleep, he could have sworn he heard a distant, echoing laughter. He would be lying if he said it didn’t send shivers down his spine, knowing what that book’s title was, paired with the author.

The book in question, all 364 pages of it, was resting silently next to him, though not peacefully.

The book in question was written by what Ejiro only knew as a ghost.

The book in question was written by a ghost, named Izuku Midoriya.

- - - -

Deep in the void, where the light of day had never touched, a green-haired devil laughed maniacally over the inner turmoil of a red-haired angel.

“Hey Jeeves?”

“Yes, sir?” Echoed the entity all around him. God, he’d never get sick of that.

“What’s the status of all the trash we picked up for our red-headed friend today?”

“You are referring to project: Trash Attracts Trash, sir?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” He chuckled. That one wasn’t even his idea, Jeeves came up with it, and it was fantastic.

“As of 5 minutes ago, it has been delivered to the target’s property. The vast majority of which has been sent to the target’s office. I have taken the liberty of avoiding the other residence’s living areas.”

“Oh fantastic, be sure to keep me posted on how that turns out!”

“Are you headed out, sir?”

Izuku paused at that. Was that, fondness? In Jeeves’ booming voice?

He supposed that they’d spent enough time together for the entity to understand how much of a monumental occasion this was.

“... Yes... Yes I think I am...” He smiled to the empty void before him, as he approached a strange ornate door. The same door that had been there for as long as he had.

It had a small, hand-engraved 1 engraved into its centre.

And at its base, a Welcome Home mat. Pristine, as if it had never been stepped on, never even approached, hardly acknowledged.

Izuku turned the handle with an audible creak, and stepped through.

- - - -

As he did so, a certain Enji Todoroki awoke from what could only be described as a nightmare straight from the depths of the void. A shapeless, faceless mass of bone, sinew, flesh, pus and blood chasing him, killing a helpless him endlessly.

And he awoke to a veritable mountain of scrap, rubbish and... and trash covering the entirety of his bedroom floor.

For not the first time, Enji screamed in an uncontrollable rage.

And at the same time, a certain heterochromatic teen- for the first time in too long- gave a genuine, happy smile.

Chapter Text

[TIME:] 4pm

[DAY:] Saturday - 1 day before UA Entrance Examination

[LOCATION:] UA High, Top Floor

Aizawa trudged down the hall at a slow and steady, yet visibly exhausted pace. His eyes held no light, only a bitter dullness- much like his coffee nowadays- he could never get enough a hit from it to keep him going.

“I need stronger coffee... again.” He thought out loud, not on purpose, he was just too exhausted to monitor his own speech.

It had been on more than a few occasions that he wished someone would open a cafe down the street from UA. His current supplier of bitter lucidness was too far to justify going out of his way to get it, but just close enough for him to be tempted.

“Damn social acceptability.” The raggedy man lamented.

He walked with a manila folder in one hand and his head in the other. He’d been nursing a migraine for weeks, on account of the folders' contents- mainly the fact that said contents were next to none save for a few “professional sketches” supplied by All Might.

“Seriously, what the fuck is this?” He whispered as he made his way towards the one place on Earth he feared (On account of how it wouldn’t be safe to sleep there... mostly).
He pulled out a sheet of paper from the folder, A disproportionate stick figure with green “hair”, dots for eyes and an arrow pointing towards it with the words: ‘This is what Midoriya looks like!’ scribbled in crayon.

He could almost hear the unreasonably proud blonde as he read it for the 50th time, no less disappointed in the man.

He could only thank whatever nonexistent gods that were laughing at him that All Might wasn’t a teacher.

It was as he rounded the corner of the hall, as his eyes landed on a heavy oak door, that his resolve was truly tested. Insomnia and no coffee? That was manageable, albeit sorely.

Principal Nedzu was a different story.

“Whoever this Midoriya kid is, he owes me a drink.” He cursed under his breath.

- - - -

Nedzu had expected a number of things to happen today.

For one, the sun would rise, make its way across the sky- devoid of any cloud cover- and would eventually exit stage left. Such things were natural occurrences, nothing noteworthy.

He would be receiving a phone call from one Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi at precisely 6pm (the time by which he would forfeit) regarding the ongoing investigation of the anonymous person who (much to his amusement) left the Number 2’s house filled to the brim with leftovers, scrap metal, and... other questionable material.

He would be expected to attend a video conference regarding the upcoming raid of a suspected villain stronghold not 20 minutes following the conclusion of said phone call.
Thereafter he would return to his home, prepare for bed, and fall asleep roughly 10 minutes after.

And then he would wake at the crack of dawn to do it all again...

The rat (? Bear? Dog... thing?) sighed through his permanent smile.

When had his life become so mundane and predictable? There were never any mysteries to be solved, no challenges to test him. It seldom took Nedzu longer than 30 minutes mulling over a conundrum before he had a valid answer- though more often than not he’d act like it was far more difficult, or took longer than it really did. If not to fool others then to fool himself that there was still some fun to be had.

But he couldn’t lie forever.

Nedzu... was... BORED OUT OF HIS MIND

I’m this close to pushing the big red button. Is it so much to ask for a little bit of entertainment!?
He screamed internally, not that anybody would be able to tell that behind his cold, dead, beady little eyes.

And then. Something that he hadn’t expected to happen... happened.

- - - -

Creeeeeeakkk. Whined the heavy office door as it opened.

I should really get that thing oiled. Maybe I could design something to do it for me? His mind echoed absently.

The principal’s head jerked up from the 10 sudokus he was completing simultaneously to see a more dishevelled-looking-than-usual Aizawa making his way into the room slowly, gently.

It always brought a sick kind of joy to the rat’s heart as he saw even the most hardened of UA Alumni still making their way through his office like a trapped animal- trying to look in every-which-way direction other than his eyes. Trying to act completely natural despite wishing to be anywhere else.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Shouta! To what do I owe the pleasure?” The principal chimed happily as the door was closed once more.

“Principal Nedzu...” Greeted the hobo.

Aizawa hesitated for a moment when he was met with beady black eyes, though steeled himself with the promise of leaving sooner.

He made a beeline for the massive desk, slapping the folder down gently, but still with enough conviction to get the point across.

If Aizawa saw a hint of joy in the sea of dark pupil as he did so, he didn’t comment. 

“Special assignment. All Might expects the force to investigate a person that doesn’t exist.”

They both stared at the folder on the table for a few long seconds. One in exhaustion and one in intrigue.

“You should know Eraserhead, making such claims could be a hindrance to your credibility as an underground hero.” Said the rodent slowly, reaching for the devastatingly thin folder.

The hero scoffed.

“Tell that to the Number 1. If I had a cup of coffee every time we brought that blond idiot in for questioning and mental stability tests, just to verify that he really did see a- and I quote; “Gremlin in a child’s skin”. Well... maybe I’d still be tired, but at least I’d be wired enough to not consider a rusted bed of nails a good place to sleep..”

There was an awkward pause that befell the room as Aizawa realised he’d been venting to what was arguably the scariest animal (? Person?) he’d ever had the Pleasure (?) of knowing.

“Ehem. Uhh, yes. All Might swears by his worth as a hero that this kid he’s met on multiple occasions does in fact exist. However, the combined forces of the Musutafu Police Department, any sidekicks at their disposal, a number of underground heroes including myself and even the Number 3 hero, Hawks have been unable to gather any information further than the name and... ‘detailed sketch’... that All Might has provided.”

As Aizawa spoke, Nedzu picked up a crude drawing of a stick figure made in what looked like... crayon? What the fu-

“Now, normally, I wouldn’t have sought your help. I understand that you’re busy at the best of times. However, the investigation team is running out of options. Originally, it was just Tsukauchi and I but we’ve since had to expand our horizons-”

Nedzu finally took his eyes off artistic disaster as he listened along, moving instead to a single name with approximately 264 question marks and a sad face surrounding it.

“The kicker, however, is that only Tsukauchi and All Might himself know the exact reasons for the investigation, that information is locked under National Level restrictions. All the rest of us have been told is that it has something to do with this kid “Knowing some kind of secret about All Might”... you wouldn’t want to know half of the rumours that have spread from that little tidbit alone.”

If Aizawa had been even a little less worn-down, had been looking at the principal instead of sitting in the chair opposite him hanging his head in defeat- he could have noticed the silent intake of breath and the quick glance the rat took at him as he mentioned All Might and a Secret.

Missing that, what Shouta did notice was the air in the room growing ever so slightly colder as his explanation drew longer.

“So... to summarise-” He began, as he stood and made his way back to the door as fast as he dared. The meeting was highly unprofessional, almost as laughable as All Might’s investigation skills. He may have been simply dumping his workload onto his past teacher all of a sudden, but dammit all- Shouta didn’t care, he wanted out of that office.

However, before he could continue the final explanation, he was cut off by Nedzu suddenly clearing his desk of dozens of what he could only assume to be indispensable government documents with an eagerness he’d not seen since the last “surprise practical evaluation” he'd had issued to the faculty.

The rodent spoke excitedly, the telltale gleam of sadism and mischief in his eyes as he did so.

“There is a child, or at the very least what appears to be a child, that is in possession of highly classified information- who is also better at covering their tracks than even the most hardened criminal... or, perhaps they have someone even more dangerous than themselves doing that for them. They are wanted by All Might personally for questioning and to discern how exactly they came into contact with said information. Correct?”

Aizawa shuddered at the fire in the principal’s eyes, the rat already had all the information he needed. All he could do now was pray for this poor bastard Midoriya, he was sure.

“... y- yes that’s it... though, there is one small bit of information that you may want to keep in mind.”

“And that would be? Eraserhead?” Asked Nedzu as he fought to contain his sadistic glee. This may have had the potential to be the first bit of mental stimulation he’d had in a very, very long time. He was already in the process of hurriedly preparing as many hypotheses on exactly who this child was as possible.

The almost-hobo sighed before continuing, wanting to get out of the office before Nedzu started ‘testing hypotheses’...

“All Might says the kid could be taking the Entrance exam, one day from now...” He breathed out. Everybody on the case with enough clearance to know that understood the possible implications of someone- a kid, able to scare All Might- aiming to be on UA grounds at the same time as hundreds of other - hopefully less migraine-inducing- children.

“Although the Number 1 swears by his worth that this kid isn’t a threat despite what he knows-”

He was suddenly cut off once more by Nedzu gasping in what looked like pure ecstasy.

“So there’s a time limit too? And only a day's worth at that....”

Was Nedzu... shaking?

“That will be all, Aizawa. Thank you for the information. I will do my part in catching this potentially inter- I mean, dangerous person...”

- - - -

It was as the door closed with the audible creak, that the hairs on the back of Aizawa’s neck stood on end. If he thought the air was heavy inside the office, the principal’s presence was positively suffocating behind closed doors.
As he paced towards the elevator- perhaps more awake than he’d been all month, he could only just hear the maniacal cackling of his former teacher down the hall. Along with a few more... questionable sounds.

“Dear God... What have I done.”

He asked himself as the elevator doors closed, the laughter from the Devil’s office only growing louder as he drew further away.

Part of him hoped the kid wouldn’t ever be found.

Another part of him whispered that would only make Nedzu happier.

It only takes a drop of blood to send sharks into a frenzy after all. Behind that laughing door was the Great White of UA high, and probably the scariest animal on planet Earth.

“I’d hate to imagine a reality where he wasn’t on our side.” Spoke the rugged man as his chills subsided.

- - - -

Somewhere, a green-headed gremlin began his own hysterical laughter.

What a hoot, a reality where Nedzu was evil ? As far as he knew, there wasn’t a reality where the white rat was wholly good !

“Oh Shouta, if you only knew...” He spoke between breaths.

If they only knew...

Chapter Text

Midoriya had always wondered why people didn’t like the rain. Why it was framed in such a poor way he feared he would never understand.
It was a deeply ingrained social stigma, one that was formed out of generations of lessons learned from the previous. People learned to associate one thing with the next, and if the first thing people thought when they saw something was negative, then more often than not they were unable to look past it to see the positive.

Take, for example, the rain itself. It could mean many things- most often sadness. A dark, cold wetness that overpowered even the devastatingly destructive powers of the sun- something people associated with warmth and light regardless.

In mass quantities, water could be a terrifying force that even the world’s heroes could not contain.

Floods, tsunamis... Things that tore families from their homes and left them lonely.

However, despite all of the rain’s missing appeal on one side of the world, there would always be another wishing for even the slightest drop of life-giving, heavenly moisture.

Those without see the beauty in what they lack.

The same could be said for most things in life.

Order, or safety for example. Those were things that people only understood the true meaning of until they were forcefully removed from residence.

But still, there were outliers.

Empathy, for example. One could not see the worth in such a thing if they were to lose it, let alone if they had never experienced it in the first place.

Perhaps, he did not give humankind enough credit. Perhaps on a subconscious level, they understood that without a villain, a hero could not exist. Vise versa- without good, evil would not come creeping from the shadows... or the light, depending on who had the majority moral high ground.

“It always just circles back to public opinion, eh?” He mumbled half bitterly as he picked his path along the freshly cleaned Dagobah beach.

The steady downpour around him was strangely calming in its constant hum. That was something he never found himself able to grow accustomed to in the voidspace, the intense, crushing, all-encompassing silence. The idea of oblivion was perfectly fine in theory, though in practice it was... lacking. Or rather more so than anybody would be able to imagine until they were there.

To his right, the droplets hit the rolling waves, bashing down on the foam and joining it- becoming part of an ironic nothingness despite the ocean’s vastness, just another drop in the ocean.

He was strangely at peace walking along the lonely stretch of sand, soaked to the bone. The sensation of ‘being’ came part and parcel with existence, so he figured he’d have to grow used to it once more. He didn’t see walking in the cold and heavy rain as an unreasonable way to do so.

It gave him time to ponder, too. Sure, he could ponder whenever he wished, on whatever he wished at home in the void. However, there was just something about being able to do so without focussing on keeping himself from being torn apart constantly that made it so much better.

In all honesty, Izuku felt like he was on a holiday. He felt more alive than he had in a millennia.

That being said, he wasn’t just out and about to look like a delinquent. He still had a job to do after all.

Turning left off the beach and up a stony path, Izuku was led into a well-kept stretch of parkland- one that looked groomed on a daily basis. The rain had the effect of accentuating all of the life flowing from the place. To the boy who had lived without senses like sight, sound or scent for so long, it was rather overwhelming.

He glanced down at his wrist, where a watch had materialised in the space between him blinking.

10:35pm . Saturday night. That meant that the entrance exam was tomorrow.

He still hadn’t decided exactly what he wanted to achieve in his time in his reality.

He knew what his duties were- certain things simply would or wouldn’t occur unless a Midoriya had a hand in them.

The first hurdle was completed without trying.

The Izuku of any given reality- no matter their goals- was required to at the very least to exist for that reality to continue ticking over. This existence could be in physical form, ideal, or even in memory. That was the requirement for a reality to ‘function’ per se.

Second, was the matter of All Might’s successor.

Whether they knew it or not, all Izuku’s had a large hand in the choice of successor.

“The butterfly effect is a bitch.” He grumbled as he continued strolling down the path towards his destination.

In some versions, they are the successor- this can happen any number of ways but the result is largely the same.

In many more, however- instead of embodying the successor or assisting in the choice of inheritor- an Izuku would indirectly affect the current holder’s choice.

How exactly this worked? He would never know. He liked to imagine that life was just some shitty script written by some poor insomniac at 2am- and the rest just followed.

Next, The entrance exam.

An Izuku that affected the entrance exam directly would cause their universe to hold far more potential than if they had not. The famed ‘class 1-A’ would just be another year group sifting through UA had Izuku not caressed it with his magic touch.

Kinda like... adding seasoning. It just isn’t the same without.

There are a few other minor things he was expected to do to give his reality the desired outcome- to make it as close to the potential ‘true path’ as possible.

Just be in the right place, say the right thing, be conscious until this time, talk to this person or that etc...

And then there was the case of Todoroki.

A slight shudder made its way down his spine as he thought of just how many times the ‘best’ Izuku had broken his bones for another person.

Surely he didn’t have to do that... right?

Not that he’d feel it anyway, but still, it was gross. And what if the requirement was to feel pain? He didn’t exactly like the idea of inflicting self harm just to fix someone else’s daddy issues.

“I’ll probably just bitchslap him or something.” He sighed. Trying to think of a way to get Shoto to use his left side was a bitch of a job, but a necessary one nevertheless.

“Oh, I wonder what I should do with Touya in this version?” That was another tricky one, it really depended on the crispy bugger’s own actions more than an Izuku’s.

He figured if Fuckhands McGee got to him first, it was probably already too late to ‘save’ him.
But he’d keep it in mind just in case.

Before anything else could happen, however, was the matter of who exactly Class 1-A would consist of this go around.

As far as he could tell, who the next generations of the ‘greatest heroes’ consisted of had little to no effect on the outcome of the universe.

And... well... the more potential they hold, the better... right?

There was no harm in trimming a few of the uglier branches to potential outcomes... right?

He stopped walking suddenly. He had reached the other end of the park.

Looking up, he could make out the top edge of a large apartment complex through the thinning tree canopy.

Towards the higher floors of the complex, one window, in particular, caught his attention.

There was a dim light flooding out from in between the shutters.

A few other apartments had light too, obviously. But this one was special.

This one held so little potential, it wasn’t even worth giving it the benefit of the doubt.

“The needs of the many...”  

Started Izuku as the dark rain around him shifted in impossible directions- through the 4th, 5th and 6th dimensions. It twisted around him, engulfed him and suddenly he was gone.

In the time between moments, he was outside the door of the apartment's room. With light creeping out from underneath and faint sounds coming from within.

“Outweigh the needs of the few.”

A sickly sweet grin made its way across his face. Mouth a bit too large, teeth unnervingly sharp to anything that noticed. If someone were to look from the corner of their eye- the edge of their perception- they would see horrors from beyond the veil, hear screams of worlds long dead. The air around him folded over, over and over once more- an infinite loop of impossibilities and fractured space.

And then he was gone.

- - - -

Minoru Mineta was having a good night.

For starters, he’d managed to finally complete his slideshow of Midnight-In-Action Action Shots.

Second, his parents weren’t home. Both of them were out visiting family for something urgent- something about Grandma having a stroke, he didn’t care.

And THEN , there was the fact that the UA Entrance Exams were tomorrow .

So yeah, he was basically the king of the world.

And, after he aced the Entrance Exam tomorrow, he’d have girls falling head over heels for his heroic charm.

He began the buildup to the evil mastermind laugh he’d been practising since the day prior. He could see it now- after he completely aced the practical, he would climb the stairway of rivals he’d beaten to a pulp. They would then part like the Red Sea- giving him free passage to the Principal’s office, who would say something like;
“You’re amazing, Mineta. You don’t have to complete your next few years here. I’ll give you a hero licence and name you the #1 hero here and now!”

Everyone would applaud his awesomeness. And then all the girls woul-

It was as his terrifyingly deep, badass laugh was reaching a crescendo that he realised... no, no that definitely wasn’t him laughing.

“H- haha... haaaa....” His own nasally laugh became laboured, weak- as the booming, all-consuming chuckle continued.

“Heh heh heh heh heh....” It echoed, as the purple-headed child was stricken in a mix of confusion, terror, and just the tiniest bit of urine. He looked around his room, standing on his bed illuminated by his questionable slideshow of heroines.

“Oh. You’re done?” Asked the voice. It sounded like a shifting mix of radio static, metal pans clanging, nails against a chalkboard and screams of the damned.

It sounded like death.

Mineta couldn’t see anything despite the light from his TV, it was like the shadows of the room had been multiplied and stacked on top of eachother. From the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw something looking at him.

Was something looking at him? Was there something here? What was in his room? There was something in there with him. There was something looking at him. There was too much looking at him.

Everything was looking at him.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t scream, he couldn’t move.

The walls had eyes.

The walls had eyes.

The wa lls have eyes the wallshaveeyesthewallsHAVEEYESTHEWALLS-

Something was there, the shadows were looking at him from the corner of the room. The dark smiled at him with too many teeth. Too many teeth... toomanyteethtoomanyteeth toomanytee thtoomanyteETH.

Eyes opened up on every surface, all of them were trained on him, all of them were staring at him throughhim .

The world fell away for a moment as the something crept from the nothing all around him. Blood made of bees, ruby spleens and emerald trees decorated his mindscape. He was nowhere.

He felt too much pressure on every cell of his being. He was being pushed, pulled and TorN aParT in every direction across the infinite nothing.

There was no sound. He couldn’t scream. There was nobody to listen.

There was no God here to listen.

Mineta looked down to where he should have been. He wasn’t. He wasn’t there but something else was. There was something where he was wasn’t meant to be where there when now why?

*Snap* and a squish. He wasn’t there. But something long dead whispered to him that his legs were broken- gone. They took his legs.

The dead nothing took his legs. They ate his legs.

He opened his mouth to scream but only his intestines came out, they were forced out of him by the bees. The bees? The bees.

Silence.

An all-encompassing silence. The absence of sound.

The room? Empty. TV turned off, blood cleaned off the walls.

Nothing left. Mineta wasn’t there.

Mineta was never there.

- - - -

[TIME:] 11pm

[DAY:] Saturday - 1 day before UA Entrance Examination

[LOCATION:] UA High, Conference Room

The door to the large UA conference room was gently pulled shut as Detective Naomasa made his way in to join the gathered force.

At the head of the room sat Principal Nedzu. To his right, All Might was squished into a too-small chair- sweating bullets. Did Nedzu make him sit there?

To his left, Aizawa looked more done than usual.

“Thank you all for assembling here on such short notice. I understand you’re all eager to get this investigation over with- preferably before the Entrance Exam tomorrow.” The principal had always spoken with a degree of pleasantness and vigour, though he seemed even more excitable today than usual.

The table was silent. All eyes were trained on the folder in Nedzu’s hands, significantly thicker than the last time anyone saw it.

They wanted answers.

“So, I won’t keep you all for too long, so I’ll just go ahead and tell you what I’ve come up with.” Smiled the rat, a gleam in his eye as he cast the folder towards the centre of the table in a surprising display of strength.

The papers within the folder spilled out. All 279 pages of it. They spread across the table in a delicately calculated throw.

Some of the pages held classified mugshots of missing children cases, some held government secrets that obviously weren’t secret enough if Nedzu was able to get his paws on them... then again...

Yet, more of the pages strewn out across the table just held copies of All Might’s ‘witness testimonies’ .
Even more held nothing but shakily written notes and hundreds upon thousands of question marks. Insane scribblings one should only see on the inside of a prison cell.

One of the assembled heroes cleared their throat upon seeing a rather disturbing image on a piece, turning it over to be face down quickly.

“P- Principal Nedzu. What is the meaning of all of this? Why don’t you just tell us who the kid is?” They asked shakily, catching a hint of sadistic evil-eye from the rodent.

“Well, that’s easy!” A pause. A smile.

“I have no idea!” Said the principal, throwing his paws up and clapping. A manic giggle made its way out the principal’s mouth as those around the table learned of several new phobias.

Well - thought Aizawa, seconds away from falling asleep.

Now, we wait...

And wait they did.

Chapter Text

In the Void, Past.

- URGENT REQUEST -

Entity Class: [Hunter] Requesting Extraction
Request Reason: [Destruction Imminent]

Relaying...

Relaying...

Request Denied

Reason: [Continue Purge]

Purge Target: [New Entity]

[Time Elapsed since last request - 10 Hours - Earth]

- URGENT REQUEST -

Entity Class: [Hunter] Requesting Extraction
Request Reason: [Destruction Imminent]

Relaying...

Relaying...

Request Denied

Reason: [Continue Purge]

Purge Target: [New Entity]

[Time Elapsed since last request - 9.8 Hours - Earth]

- URGENT REQUEST -

Entity Class: [Hunter] Requesting Extraction
Request Reason: [Destruction Imminent]

Relaying...

Relaying...

Request Denied

Reason: [Continue Purge]

Purge Target: [New Entity]

[Time Elapsed since last request- 7 Hours - Earth]

- URGENT REQUEST -

Entity Class: [Hunter] Requesting Extraction
Request Reason: [Destruction Imminent]

Relaying...

Relaying...

Request Denied

Reason: [Continue Purge]

Purge Target: [New Entity]

[Time Elapsed since last request- 4 Hours - Earth]

- URGENT REQUEST -

Entity Class: [Hunter] Requesting Extraction
Request Reason: [Destruction Imminent]

Relaying...

Relaying...

Request Denied

Reason: [Continue Purge]

Purge Target: [New Entity]

- FURTHER REQUEST, INFORMATION -

Entity Report: [New Entity]

Information: [New Entity] grows faster. Interval between confirmed death decreasing.

Purge Attempt: [Spiritual, Emotional, Mental, Physical] - All unsuccessful.

Conclusion: [New Entity] Unable to be stopped.

Relaying...

Relaying...

Information From Entity Class: [Hunter] Received.

Information Validated.

Conclusion:

...

...

...

Conclusion Towards Event Class: [Calamity] - [New Entity] unable to be determined.

Commence Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM]

- - - -

5 AM - Shinso household

- 2.5 hours before the UA Entrance Exam

Hitoshi woke with a start, eyes frantic and hands grabbing at his sheets.

It felt like there was something he was missing, something big. Like leaving the house and knowing you forgot something , but having no idea what. Yeah, it was that feeling, but instead of a little twitch in the back of his mind-

It was more like someone bashing his cranium in with a white-hot axe.

What was it, what was it that he had missed? There was something that used to be there that wasn't any more. It must have been important, there was an almost primal fear bubbling up in the back of his throat as he thought, a constricting force that threatened to suffocate him unless he could determine its origin.

It was as the purple-headed boy was having a mild panic attack that there was a knock at his bedroom door.

"Hitoshi? Buddy? You awake yet?"

A pause, and something else, along with a few heavy, laboured breaths before he could respond.

"Y- yeah, I'll be out soon"

"Alright bud, don't be too long, it's your big day today after all!"

Hitoshi hat to take a moment to understand exactly what exactly his old man was referring to when he said ‘big day’. What was he meant to be doing today?

The cotton balls infecting his mind shifted ever so slightly, as if something had heard his internal monologue and pushed the answer for him.

Oh Shit. He thought.

It wasn’t two seconds later before Hitoshi was flinging himself out of bed dressing himself haphazardly, shirt backwards, mismatching socks and all.

SHITFUCKIT’STHEUAENTRANCEEXAMTODAY!  

That’s what he was fucking forgetting! The biggest day of his short, miserable, good-for-nothing insignificant life! (It must have been, right?)

Hitoshi decided not to take note of him meaning every part of the description of his life (that wasn’t how he usually thought, right?).

... He also decided to ignore how he’d flinched so hard with, and hung off of, each of his father’s words as if his life had depended on it.

...

As Hitoshi was ready to make his way out of his room, he took one last- albeit confused- look around. He could have sworn the place was cleaner than it was at present. He’d have to clean up when he got home.

Were those... glass bottle shards in the corner of the room?

“Goddamn, why are the wallpapers peeling so much? Could’ve sworn we replaced them when we moved in.”

When did they move in? It hadn’t been that long ago. Within the last 5 years maybe?

...

Hitoshi figured that he’d address his apparent amnesia after he’d failed the exam miserably like the villain he wa-

“What the fuck is wrong with you today Shinso?”

The boy shook his head indignantly making his way down the stairs quickly. It was probably just nerves. Some fresh air would do him good.

It was as he reached the bottom step that something hit him. A strong smell?

“Is someone painting?” He asked rounding the corner quickly, dressed in a purple tracksuit.

“Oh! Hello sweetie, yes, your father and I thought we should do some work on the house. If you’re putting so much effort in today- it’s only right that we should do the same!” The woman chirped, paintbrush in hand.

“Bit of a uh- spontaneous decision isn't it?” The painting wasn’t done terribly, both of them looked surprisingly natural doing it actually, there weren't even any paint drops on the floor- but they still didn’t look organised by any means.

“Hmm.” She hummed in agreeance

“But is it so bad? We can’t raise the next #1 hero in squalor!” Said the woman in... was that a hint of bitterness?

“Anyway honey, there’s some raisin toast and juice on the table for you that you can have on the way, you better get going if you want to make good time!” She waved a paint-covered finger at him in mock-reprimand, a wry smirk across her lips.

“Uh- yeah! Yeah. I’ll get going then!”

“Okay baby, good luck!”
“Love you bud!” Called his day from further in the room. How much were they painting?!

“L- love you too guys.”

And with that, Hitoshi was off, on his way towards his new life.

He decided to ignore how alien the gesture of love felt on his tongue.

He decided to ignore the acid reflux when his parents expressed any form of affection.

He especially decided to ignore the tortured, absent look his parents’ eyes held.

“That’s an issue for future Hitoshi.”

- - - -

The train ride to the school was... eventful. 

It started normal enough. Shuffle in, find somewhere to stand, and stay silent as all of the businessmen around you argue into their phones... or that’s what he’d have expected.

As he boarded the train everyone around him parted like the goddamn Red Sea He’d never had so much room on public transport before, and everyone else was actively squishing into each other to give it to him. He felt kinda bad when a little old lady moved out of the way for him . Wasn’t it meant to be the other way around?

“Are you sure? There’s plenty of room.”

“Oh, no dearie, I’m quite alright”

Everyone seemed weirdly happy too. Everyone was smiling- and usually, that wouldn’t have been a bad thing. Strange perhaps, but people smiling would never be a bad thing, surely.

Unless everyone’s smiles were directed straight at him. Fuck, then it was just creepy.

“Hi?” He asked as politely as possible after realising he and a group of kids had been staring at each other for a solid 2 minutes.

“Are you taking the UA Entrance Exam?” The closest one asked excitedly

Was it that obvious?

“Uh- yeah... I am actually.”

“So cool!” Said one of the others, followed by similar declarations of approval by the others.

“Young man, did you say you were taking the exam today?” Asked that old woman from before.

“Yup...” Mumbled the boy, shifting from one foot to the next. Growing more uncomfortable by the second.

It got so much worse when everyone began clapping and cheering for him.

All in sync.

Seriously, they all moved so fluidly and in time that he could have sworn he was hallucinating, or they were all actually the same person?

He decided not to take notice of how vacant all of their eyes looked.

“What the fuck ” He hissed, powerwalking the fuck off of the train as soon as it stopped. Not like it was difficult with how much room he had to move.

- - - -

“Sorry, ‘scuse me, coming through.” Kirishima shuffled through the rows upon rows of prospective students in the auditorium making his way towards his school’s assigned seats.

“Oop! Apologies.” He squeaked as he almost tripped over on someone’s foot. Sure, they had to fit a lot of kids in there, but did they have to make the gaps between seats so damn small? Or maybe he’d gotten bigger. Training with All Mi-... Mr Yagi had definitely done him some good in that prospect.

He finally managed to get to the row as the presentation began. He looked around to see Mina waving at him and patting the seat next to her with a wide grin.

“Phew. Thanks.” He sighed as Present Mic (Ohmyfuckinggodit’sPresentMic) got up on stage.

“It’s no problem!” Responded the chirpy girl. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how exactly she managed to light up the room so much. She’d make a fantastic hero, he was sure.

Before he could continue his thoughts however, he was interrupted by what was probably the loudest “GREETINGS” He’d ever heard.

“HOW ARE WE TODAY DEAR LISTENERS!? EVERYBODY SAY HEEEEYYY!!!”

“HEY!” Responded the entire room. Hizashi was actually taken aback by the response. He had to take a moment to make sure that he wouldn’t cry before continuing. What the fuck? Teens weren’t this cool?? They weren’t meant to respond??? They’d never responded before????

Nobody in the room was quite sure why they responded to Present Mic’s enthusiasm with their own. Nor did they know why they all silently agreed to do it at exactly the same pitch and length of time... oh well, the muses were kind today.

“y- YEAH! THAT’ WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT LISTENERS!!”

The rest of the proceedings were what Kirishima would have expected. There was an explanation of the written and practical exams, how scores were calculated, what the basic features of each goddamn ROBOT were. Yeah, they were fighting robots. Holy shit.

There was something that caught everyone off guard towards the end though.

The absolute behemoth of a screen at the front of the room flickered a moment when Present Mic began finishing up. The ‘Bonus Slide’ had been a weird addition that- judging from his reactions- even Mic hadn’t expected.

Kirishima was pretty sure he had a minor panic attack when it happened.

“AAAAND THAT’S ABOUT IT LIL’ LISTENERS! TO SUMMARISE, TH-”

There was a weird staticky noise from the screen as it changed to the next slide. It looked like it had one of those terrible slideshow presentation transition sequences on it, but... Ejiro had never seen one so realistic. It was as if the slide ate away at the last and forced itself to the front.

Present Mic looked down at the slide clicker in his hand. Did he not want to change slides yet?

It was in a different format from all of the other slides, which were primarily blues, reds and whites. This one was pure black- and, was it animated? It was shifting a little bit.

There was a fairly long pause as the entire room was captivated by the screen and whatever secrets it may have held.

And then it started... typing itself? In real-time. Slowly at first but it sped up about halfway through.

Large green-white letters plastered themselves across the screen. Some of them were in a font that Kiri didn’t even know you could get. It was pretty messy, kinda creepy too-

MakE suR e  to sAVe P eOplE whIlE yoUr’e oUt thE RE tOo! Bo nuS pOinTs fOr rESCuInG yoUr  f EllOw cLa SSmAt Es!

Okay, that was... Weird? Though he figured it was just some way to tell them to look after each other.

aLL fO r  oNe aNd onE fOR al L!

~ Iz͏̟͍̞͎͖͎̬u̫̱͙ͅk͙̯͕̬u̜̩̳̖͈̤ ̙̙̰̦̻̪M͚̮̙͉̪͔̙i̶͖̱̫d͏̳̩o͇̹r͖̰̪̩̱̗i̱̠y̼̮̗a

In two different places, two different people held back the sudden urge to vomit.

And somewhere else, a green-headed demon cackled.

- - - -

The Void - Present day

“How are our guests adjusting, Jeeves?” Asked a green-headed demon to the darkness. Their tone sickly sweet and mouth curled up into a terrifyingly sharp smile.

“Both subjects appear sufficiently comfortable in their restraints, sir” Responded the black.

“Ah, lovely. Just lovely. We should go about changing that then, don’t you think?” Asked the incarnation of the void, taking a sip of tea. Mostly sugar and milk, just how he liked it.

“But of course, sir. I shall see to it.”

The presence of Jeeves left Midoriya where he sat, watching a large screen for a moment before a mad grin once more crawled across his face.

“Oh, this should be fun~” He hummed.

- - - -

Somewhere deeper in the void, where the darkness reached a peak before finding more places to slither between the cracks. An all-encompassing sense of dread befell any and all within it. A place that sent a shiver down the spine of even the King of the Void himself.

Life, no matter how persistent, had not yet found a way to thrive there.

All that inhabited this place were relics of a bygone era, or whatever poor lost souls had earned the hatred of the King.

Here, there existed a man and a woman, bound and suspended by chains forged of spite and pain- coiled around not only their physical bodies, but also their minds. They dangled from unimaginable heights over a depth no mortal could comprehend.

They had been there only a short while. However, the constant state of agony they were kept in, paired with their tormented cries to which no ears but their own could hear made it seem like a lifetime- perhaps nearing two.

Though it would be many more than that before their sentence would be adequately served for the sins they had committed.

This was a special kind of hell, reserved for only the most deserving.

Most things in the void were unfortunate enough to know that their ruler did, in fact, keep grudges.

The man, a plump-bodied little piggy, was screaming bloody murder over his 3rd layer of skin for the hour beginning the process of being peeled off. His blood dripped down the chains holding him from thrashing about too much and fed the insects crawling into his wounds. An endless feast- for each time he was reduced to nothing but organs and bones the process would begin anew- a little trick that their new ruler was rather fond of, and his henchman was more than pleased to carry out.

The woman, sickly looking and with lines drawn into her face from years of constant frowning, was unable to scream at all- for her vocal cords had been clipped slowly since she had arrived. Much to the same effect as her husband beside her. Furthermore, she was far more focussed on attempting to keep her insides from becoming outsides as a crushing pressure continued to make its way from her feet all the way to her head- much like rolling dough, in fact.

These were the sentences given to them for the grave sin of abuse and neglect- towards someone deserving the love of the world thirty times over before any harm befall a hair on his purple head.

These were the sentences given to the souls of the parents of one Shinso Hitoshi- who would one day become a great hero to the world.

These souls had been claimed by the lord of the void, and only by experiencing true pain would they be won back... though, that would be a story for another time... For these souls would grow old, wither and die long before the sentence of eternity was fulfilled.

- - - -

It was times like these that Midoriya questioned his own humanity. The price that he paid to try in vain to keep a hold of it.

But then, he remembers that there are far worse monsters working under the guise of humans in this world.

By comparison, he was rather human indeed.

Chapter Text

In the Void, Past.

Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] in progress...

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [REDACTED] Years [Earth]

A steady thrum, like the beat of a wardrum echoed through space. There was no noticeable melody, no change in pitch nor one in tone, but certainly a steady pace.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

Perhaps it was more like a heartbeat. One that should have ceased long ago, though was too stubborn to die out.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

Like the last embers of a flame. So small, yet so deadly.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

Holding so much potential that a single shift in the current of air, a single scrap of kindling even, could ignite.

Ba-dum...

And start a wildfire.

Eyes snapped open in the dark. But they were different

Go.

And he was off... out into that long night. The patter of bare feet against nothing.

There was naught even a scream before silence again.

And yet...

Ba-dum...

The heartbeat, beat on...

Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] in progress...

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [##] Years [Earth]

Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

Eyes snapped open in the dark. Arms reached out into the cold. But they were different.

The flame lasted longer this time before the cinders faded.

And yet...

Ba-dum...

The heartbeat, beat on...

Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] in progress...

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [#4#] Years [Earth]

Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe.

That was how he knew he was alive.

Ba-dum...

Rhythm compelled him, drove him forward.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

Humans like patterns. They enjoy making sense of the incomprehensible. It gives them a sense of achievement and normality.

‘Just focus on the beat.’

Ba-dum...

It gave them hope. Hope that- one day- things would be right, things would make sense again.

Ba-dum...

Each step had the power of that hope behind it. And something else, too. Those legs may have carried hope, but they were different.

Ba-dum...

Everything was different.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

Because everything was gone.

Everything.

Ba-dum...

But not him.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

And the heartbeat, beat on

Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] in progress...

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [##1#] Years [Earth]

“COME ON!” He roared. Fists clenched and bloody. Not his own blood, his knuckles had stopped bleeding a long time ago.

On legs that oozed death, that smelt of burnt rubber and things long dead, the thing came.

It chittered and gurged its way towards him at speeds that shouldn’t have been possible.

He had stopped caring for the possible long ago.

“TRY ME YOU FUCKING RAT BASTARD!” He kept up with the speed. Somehow.

Another punch, and a shockwave that seemed to ripple the nothing around them.

Several more grasping hands tore their way from the pus-ridden, scarred flesh of the thing, replacing the shattered fist and broken bone.

Fists collided between the two. The boy, who only looked to be around the age of seven- if that- almost looked to be winning, if you didn’t count the black something dripping from several wounds which he didn’t seem to notice.

The concept of winning wasn’t something that the boy was familiar with. It wasn’t something he saw the worth in understanding.

He knew that whatever amount of damage he dealt to this thing, it would never tire.

But he would.

To the ‘normal’ onlooker, one with a concept of right and wrong, there would be nothing but a blur as punches and kicks flew out from what could almost pass as a human child. They wouldn’t be able to see the abomination next to them. Their eyes wouldn’t know how to see it against the nothing. Their eyes wouldn’t have changed.

A terrible scream ripped its way through the evernight as the boy was impaled by a knife formed from their own flesh and bone- that was one of the hunter’s favourite tricks.

The boy didn’t have the same feelings towards it. But who knows, maybe it would grow on him~

The boy bit down with teeth a little too sharp on a pulsating mass that could almost resemble a heart. Dark red liquid spewing forth, into his mouth and eyes and nose- down his chin and into his clothes.

Maybe it was some sort of cosmic joke, where he was the punchline~

Blood- blood? Could he call it that? It didn’t smell or taste anything of the sort- he should know by now after how many times he’d tasted his own. It burned his skin on contact, bubbled and boiled just under his seams, his exposed flesh screamed in agony and his eyes had started to die.

But he felt none of it.

Maybe he'd understand it someday, tell it to one of his friends and they’d laugh. Oh, what a fool he would have been. To not see the humour in demise.

He couldn’t think more on the matter before the thing returned the favour by decapitating him with a knife so sharp it might as well have been two dimensional.

He didn’t even see it coming.

He’d never seen it coming.

Ba-dum...

It had never been there before.

Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

It was evolving too...

Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] in progress...

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [5###] Years [Earth]

How many times had he tried and failed?

What had fueled him all those times?

Ba-dum... 

The beat had started again. It was getting slower, but the time between was getting faster.

Eyes opened in the dark. Arms reached out. Legs powered on. Chest burned.

Ba-dum...

Heartbeat, beat on...

But it was different.

And in the difference, a cry of pain could be heard. But it wasn’t human.

Not anymore.

Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] in progress...

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [9̪̫̰͔̣͍̼ͬ͌͟͡9̗̞̟̻͕͊̾̅̽͐ͫ̾9̶̢̦̪̏ͣͩ̕9̓͐̂̐́ͯ҉̷̯͕̜̝̼̲͚] Years [Earth]

Eyes opened in the dark.

A beat. Ba-dum.

And then they were gone.

Somewhere, in the distance, a battle had begun.

Two different screams, neither of them human, echoed through the black.

*Chiik chkk chk-* The chittering was cut off by the sound of snapping bones and torn flesh.

Clawed hands met grotesque appendages as they locked in a contest of brute strength, each attempting to push the other off balance. They drew back for a moment, but as they met once more, a shockwave enough to shatter windows and burst eardrums pulsed around them.

Another fleshy appendage was shot out from the beast’s side, colliding with the smaller- though no less deadly creature.

A low growl sounded by the smaller entity as their head was knocked to the side ever so slightly. Taking their left hand out of the lock and grabbing the new arm instead- then suddenly tearing it from the thing’s body with a wet squelch.

The smaller thing drew the arm back a moment, as they were pummeled with all number blunt, piercing and toxic forces, all in an attempt to slow them down.

Their right hand, still holding onto one of the appendages, began to clamp down harder- nails that were a little too sharp digging into putrid flesh. Acidic blood burnt away at the hand a moment before simmering away.

The hand simply regrew, and they clamped down harder- all of a sudden tearing that arm free too.

The dark thing squealed like a wild boar, or too many mice, as they attempted to regrow the limbs- but it was too late.

The limb that was held in the smaller things left arm came down with a squelch, caving in the horror’s left side as it continued screaming.

A hundred bone knives shot out from the wound, impaling the smaller thing a few dozen times on meter-long skewers.

And yet that didn’t save the larger one from the other of their own severed arms coming slamming down from above.

Was it anger in its disgusting face? When the bone knives were slowly pulled from the smaller one’s chest, arms and legs?

Was it pain? When the knives were used against them? Used to impale them? Stick them to the ground?

Like a sick parody of a fence encircling what could only be its heart.

Was it fear? When the heart was crushed and devoured by the smaller entity? When the final thing they saw was a mess of green hair stained red with only one kind of blood- it’s own?

Ba-dum...

Izuku liked to think it was.

- - - -

Before him was the corpse of what he had once revered as an old God. The corpse of what had tormented him for... How many days had it been? Maybe... 30? It felt longer, but something told him that he didn’t want to know. Maybe it was some sort of defence mechanism for his own sanity.

“Not like I can get any crazier though, is it?” He sighed through a strained smile.

It wasn’t hope that had gotten him here, after all, he had decided.

No. It was a mix of pure rage, spite, and a will to live.

Although living didn’t hold the same blessed ignorance it used to, he felt that saying ‘hope’ had any right to exist wherever he was, was just wishful thinking.

He thought out loud as he picked up one end of the corpse and began to drag it.

“I haven’t been able to just... think... in so long. But what is there to think about? Not like there’s much visual stimulation around. And the less time I spend looking at this ugly piece of shit, the better.”

He took a quick glance down at himself.

He had no clothes of course. They just served to slow him down in a world where nobody would care anyway.

Well, that- and the fact that he didn’t actually have any genitals to be concerned about. Should he be concerned about that? He’d never had any, to begin with, right? If he did then there wouldn’t be any room in his body for the extra heart or adrenal glands.

Yeah, this was normal.

“I should really find a mirror.” Mused the boy as he ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth, definitely sharper than any four year old had the right to.

“I am still four, right? Not like I’ve been gone for a whole year heh.... I hope Mum’s okay. She’s probably worried sick...”

He dropped the terrible thing all of a sudden. They’d arrived at their destination.

Above Midoriya shone the only semblance of a goal he had. The only one he could ever remember having.

The monstrosity that he’d been dragging along? It was just big enough to serve as his step ladder, his stairway to Heaven out of the fucking Hell he’d been in for the last few weeks.

“Congratulations, bitch, you finally have a purpose. Fucking asshole.”

There was a squelch underfoot as he began to ascend the fleshy staircase.

“I should really curb this swearing habit. I’ll be almost as bad as Kacchan if I don’t be careful about it.” He mumbled absentmindedly.

Izuku almost expected the thing to get back up when he was halfway. Because why not? This place seemed to just love fucking him over, and he could probably go a few more rounds. Not like he could die anyway.

...

“Yeah, that isn’t normal, is it. It’s not like I have a ‘you can’t die’ Quirk, that'd just be stupid. I just have a useless adaptation quirk... Yeah.”

“That’s a future Izuku problem.” He said, reaching the source of the light finally.

Upon closer inspection, it looked more like a crack instead of some sort of intentional opening. Like something had been thrown through a window, all jagged edges and splintered shards.

There was still a pretty big gap between the hole and where he stood. He’d have to jump and grab a hold of the edge. And if his intuition was to be believed...

As soon as his hands made contact with the razor edge of the hole, a wave of pain made its way through Izuku’s body.

He fucking laughed.

“Ha! I haven’t felt this since...” A frown made its way across his face as he continued to pull himself up.

In his haste, he accidentally clipped the left side of his head on the edge of the hole. It was like scraping up against molten glass that still maintained a sharp end. The edge of the crack was impossibly thin as if it didn’t have a 3rd dimension at all, in fact. On its lower side was the darkness of wherever he had been, that terrible place. But on the other...

Izuku had to take a moment to adjust to the intense light, his eyes had been so used to nothing that the everything suddenly filling his retinas was almost too much.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he noted that his eyes that had been so used to darkness shouldn’t have adjusted that quickly. He decided not to think about it...

He finally crawled completely through the gap.

Looking down at his hands, he could see they were bloody and mangled from the cuts. They were healing like they normally would, he could see the flesh get stitched together before his eyes (that was normal, right?), but it was far slower than he was used to. He didn’t remember the last time he’d actually seen his blood.

The gash in his head ran from his hairline to his left eyebrow. It was letting out a steady stream of blood, too. And yet each drop that landed on the pure whiteness of the ground simply vanished within moments.

Slightly disturbed by the sight (that was good, that was a normal emotion.), he turned his attention to where the golden light from the hole had come from, and he was met with...

Something.

It... it wasn’t the sun, not by any means. And he wasn’t home either.

Izuku even had the audacity to feel a twang of anger at whatever was in front of him.

It was like a river but... instead of water, it was just golden light stretching from an infinity one direction to the next. It almost looked to be made up of intricately woven fibres all headed in the same direction- like a tapestry on the world’s scale.

Seeking answers, he was about to touch it before-

‘Young soul. Do not proceed.’

A voice boomed all around him. If Izuku hadn’t just crawled out from what he liked to imagine to be Hell, he may have even felt a bit of fear.

‘It is not your right to interfere’

“Not my right? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Wait- no, who are you?”

Oh, he was definitely angry now.

‘Young soul, you are far too naive to the ways of the universe. You are out of your depth. Leave now.’

“What the hell kind of cookie-cutter dialogue is this?” He mumbled, thoroughly pissed off.

‘Young soul, you are to leave the timestream. You are not permitted to be here. Do not meddle with things that you do not understand.’

“Look, Mr Disembodied voice. I’d love to leave, honestly, really truly. But do you see any doors around here? No? I just came from fucking Purgatory, or Hell or wherever the fuck that was, and now you’re asking me to go back ? You don’t exactly have the most compelling argument here.”

Why was he getting so angry about this? He’d felt kinda weird ever since stepping into wherever he was, the ‘timestream’ room or whatever, but he was sure that he had more control over his emotions than that.

There was a pause, no reply from the booming voice for a while. Izuku was just deciding what kind of insult to throw at it before suddenly...

‘Entity Class: [Unknown Entity] Identified.’

Okay, that voice sounded far less like a disappointed father. He... almost felt like he’d heard it before but...

‘Entity: [Unknown Entity], Threat Class [Revelation]’

“What the f-”

‘Containment Operative [0-864Q] - Protocall, [REQUIEM] Issued.

Elapsed Time Since Activation : [9999] Years [Earth].

Protocall [REQUIEM]... Ineffective.’

Izuku was staring at the floor. The white floor. The floor of nothing.

This was just a different kind of nothingness, wasn’t it. There was nothing here.

Ba-du-

No. There was no beat. There was no hope. There was nothing .

‘Elapsed Time Since Entity Class: [Unknown Entity] Arrival...’

A pause. This fucking thing had the audacity to pause.

‘Elapsed Time: [24034] Years [Earth]’

‘Purge Attempts... Unsuccessful.’

‘Entity Class: [Hunter] Deceased.’

‘Conclusion: ... Mercy.’

And that was the final fucking nail. Not in his coffin, he didn’t have the luxury of dying. The final nail driven into his goddam skull, along with all the other shit.

“Mercy?...”

‘Mercy.’ The voice repeated.

“You ask for... mercy?”

‘Mercy.’ Once more, though it sounded more desperate.

Slowly, Izuku turned towards the flow of golden silk beside him, and a mad smile cracked across his lips.

‘Young soul. Do not interfere with what you do not underst-’

“ShuT UP! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DECIDE.”

‘Interference with the Timestream would not only have unforeseen consequences for the flow of reality itself but also Entit-... the Young Soul.’

‘Such an action could irreversibly alter not only their being but also their fate.’

With an arm still outstretched to the golden light, inching ever closer, Izuku’s body shook with rage.

“You... after all you’ve done. You dare...”

‘Would the Young Soul truly throw away their humanity for something so petty as revenge?’

His hand stopped just shy of the golden flow of time, the lifeblood of reality.

“Throw away?” Midoriya whispered, his breath shaking.

Ah, there it was. The first tear he’d shed in a long time... How long? He had a number now, but perhaps not knowing was the beauty of it. Now it just hurt.

He chuckled wetly, yeah... Midoriyas were cryers, weren’t they?

“How can you throw away something that you don’t have anymore?” He laughed weakly.

Midoriya plunged his hand into the golden something.

Midoriya was reduced to nothing once more.

Midoriya fell from grace once more.

Ba-dum...

Chapter Text

Exam Observation Room - [8:30 AM]

Aizawa made his way through the door to the dark room. Screens of all shapes and sizes made up the only light, much to his distaste. Thankfully, however, Nedzu had agreed to give him one in the corner with a blue light filter to save his poor eyes.

“Exam site A, B, and C cameras are all operational. There’s been no recorded interference by quirks and Maijima had his interns check them individually this morning.”

“Very good Eraserhead, Ectoplasm has just reported in from each station, all mechanical villains are accounted for and the Zero Pointer is primed for launch.”

Nedzu shifted in his comically large chair, to have one last look over all of the screens. In the distance of some of the outward-facing cameras, shuttle buses carrying the potential students could be seen approaching the grounds.

“I don’t suppose any progress has been made in our phantom case?”

Aizawa grunted from underneath the sleeping bag he’d crawled into. He was a caterpillar cradled in several beanbags lined with pillows, anyone else would have run the risk of falling asleep in such a position, but to Aizawa, this was the bare minimum necessary to get him through the day. Well, that- and the entire pot of coffee that rested beside him.

“Nothing more than the stunt from earlier this morning. I’m guessing you saw already.”

“Indeed!” Chimed the rat-bear-mouse-dog, fighting back a mad grin. “Several times, in fact!”

From across the room, Hizashi flailed his arms with an indignant squawk. 

“What the hell was that?! First, everyone actually responds to me- which was far creepier than I had imagined- and then a ghost hijacks the slideshow!”

“We caught it fast enough to play it off as some sort of motivational quote, the kids pretty much forgot about it after that.” Aizawa turned to the lamenting cockatoo, who’s duty had been swapped with Midnight’s for security reasons following the incident.

“Who’d have thought those improv classes would have paid off so soon, eh?” He smirked, to which Hizashi responded by slumping over the keyboard in defeat.

The rooms atmosphere grew heavy for a moment after as each staff member present recalled the name at the bottom of the black slide.

Each faculty member had been made aware of All Might’s investigation into a certain green-headed cryptid. The circle of trusted individuals had grown from the detective, Aizawa, and All Might himself to the majority of Musutafu’s police department and hero agencies in the months since the two first met.

In fact, the investigation had grown to such a degree that the media had already caught wind of a potential leak.

However, much to the surprise of nobody in the room, any sort of information the media attempted to pull only resulted in more dead ends. There were a few cases of stories going missing altogether whenever “Too many accusations” were made. Though no causes were ever found, the people more clued in to who or what exactly was being chased had a hunch.

The concept of someone contacting All Might through a fake name had been thrown around, as well as illusion quirks, even the idea of a traitor in the Hero Commission had been brought to the table in the many, many meetings that had been held.

However, it wasn’t like any of that mattered. What some of the less clued in agencies knew was that this “Midoriya” had dirt on the higher ups. Something potential villains would kill for- or worse.

What the ‘inner circle’ of the investigation knew was that, regardless of how it was obtained, this phantom that had visited All Might a total of six times leading up to the UA entrance exam had access to some highly confidential information regarding All Might’s weakness.

Aizawa had never seen All Might lose his smile, but he hadn’t smiled once in those meetings.

But that wasn’t to say All Might was scared.

On the contrary, the blond buffoon seemed the most at ease through the whole ordeal, as if he had unwavering faith in the person who could be his downfall.

Shouta could have sworn that whenever the name “Izuku” was thrown around, the number one’s face softened, that he spoke about the boy fondly.

Sure, the insomniac knew that he wasn’t the most keyed in on the investigation, he knew that some information was out of his jurisdiction despite all he’d done, but it still irked him that despite this major breach in information, none of the higher ups seemed too concerned about it despite the resources that had been poured into the investigation.

It was like they were more interested in meeting the kid than apprehending them.

Ah, there it was, the migraine telling Aizawa’s brain to shut up, lay down and watch some overconfident toddlers with superpowers break things.

And there they were now.

- - - -

Exam Site A - [8:35 AM]

Shinso paced back and forth at the gargantuan gate to the examination area. He understood the need to accommodate for potential students of all shapes and sizes, but really?

Well, this was UA. They had a tendency to go Plus Ultra.

The walking example of how not to sleep wrung their hands as they glanced around. The nerves had started to set in. Why hadn’t he been more afraid earlier? Now it felt like he was going to the dentist or something. How could he be stressing so much when he’d been fine just a moment ago.

Oh . He thought

That’s right. It’s robots. How in the hell would he-

“So robots huh?” Before Shinso could delve too deep into his subconscious, someone beside him intercepted his train of thought.

Hitoshi’s head snapped to the side, their gaze meeting a boy who looked younger than pretty much everyone else here. They had a hood covering the majority of their face save for the smile on their lips and the few tufts of green hair that snaked around the fabric’s edges.

They looked... at peace. That was probably a good way to put it.

The boys' hands rested in their hoodie pockets and they held themselves in such a way that at first seemed casual, but upon closer inspection was more the lack of seriousness.

Everything around Shinso seemed to stand still. The two of them frozen in a fragment of forever the moment the smaller boy opened their mouth to speak.

“Uhh, yeah.” Responded Hitoshi, finally, looking back up to the massive gate.

He didn’t take much notice of how much calmer he seemed looking back at the metallic behemoth. Perhaps he chose not to.

“Not all that bad, really.” Were they talking to their own situation, or his? Shinso got the impression that they were almost consoling him, but why would they?

“I- I guess not? I suppose I was just concerned. My quirk doesn’t exactly work that well with robots... I think. Can’t really control something's mind if it doesn’t have one, you know?”

It was weird how much he was gushing about his- basically forgotten- inner turmoils to this kid. They didn’t even really look like they were meant to be there. And even if they were, they’ just met. But then why did they feel so familiar?

Hitoshi didn’t think that he usually spilled all of his concerns to complete strangers, no matter where he was or in what situation. And talking about his quirk so casually made his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, as if the words were not his own.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, to just be able to talk to someone. It was kind of nice actually.

It felt like this mysterious kid was the first real person Hitoshi had talked to in a long time...

“Hmm, yeah, I can see why that’d be an issue. But you saw that thing in the assembly, right? Towards the end where it said there was another way to earn points.” The boy never turned to look at Hitoshi directly, instead tilting his head sideways a bit, but otherwise never taking their eyes off of the gate. The smile never left either.

Everything they said was spoken so clearly and with such confidence that Shinso felt fairly compelled to listen. It wasn’t a conscious effort like in the assembly hall. He actually wanted to keep talking to this kid as if they were the most interesting person he’d ever met.

“What do you-”

“ALRIGHT KIDDIES!” 

The bubble around Shinso and the stranger popped just as Midnight, who was standing atop a concrete announcement tower, cracked her whip- sending a wave of very conflicting emotions through the crowd.

“I’d say it’s about time we get this show on the road! Oh I’m sooo~ excited to watch you all in action~”

Somewhere in the back of Shinso’s mind, a little voice wondered how on Earth this woman was a hero.

Chattering broke out among the crows as the massive gates began dragging themselves back into the walls with a surprisingly low degree of metallic screeching.

“Well, I guess this is where we part ways-” Shinso began, turning back to the kid to say his goodbyes, only to be met with open air. Some part of him was disappointed that the boy was gone. But another, almost alien part of him called out that the meeting was off in some way, too manufactured.

Much like last time however, he wasn’t able to continue his musings for long before he felt the sudden compulsion to run .

- - - -

“What are you little heroes doing!? There’s no countdown in real life! Look, those two have the right idea!”

- - - -

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

Okay so maybe he didn’t have as much of a plan as he thought.

Shinso rounded the corner of an alley just as a two-pointer slammed into the wall on his left, crushed in one hit by another participant. Jesus Christ who thought it was a good idea to give teenagers superpowers?!

“This is fucking insane!” Screeched the purplette, dodging a chunk of mangled flying scrap.

Forget giving kids superpowers, this wasn’t fucking safe!

It was as he was contemplating sitting in the corner of some building and just... giving up- that the world seemed to stand still, balanced on a pinpoint.

The film still played, the sound was still there, everything was there, but it was duller- less important than whatever it was choreographed to focus on.

A boy, younger than himself- or at least in appearance- green hair and an ever present smile lay underneath the crumpled hull of a three-pointer.

Shinso could compare it to looking through a fisheye lens, one that blurred out everything but its centre. All that existed in that moment was himself, the boy, and the path between them. If he’d had more time, perhaps Hitoshi would have questioned it, how everything he was supposed to do was so highlighted against the dull backdrop of life. Everywhere he was expected to place a hand, to slide through a tunnel of rubble, to jump and keep running .

A secluded part of his mind wondered when life had become a quick time event. Perhaps it was hysteria, adrenaline. 

[Yes, that seemed like the right choice. That choice seemed natural.]

Much like every other time Shinso tried to think too hard about his situation however, it was already over.

Again, somewhere inside screamed at him. 

[Had I lifted the three-pointer?]

He was standing in front of the boy now and they were looking at him... expectantly?

Shit, he can't possibly be fifteen, he looks like a goddamn ten year-old.

“Are you okay?” The seemingly older boy asked, hands firmly placed on the shoulders of the other.

This was how you comforted a victim, right?

[Why am I treating this like I’m a hero already, you’ll never be a hero-]

“Yes, I’m fi-”

Good, Hitoshi was able to grab a hold of the response.

[Why are you using your quirk on them? You villain.]

“Move back to the entrance of the grounds and away from the fighting”

Shinso felt weird using his quirk on someone. He supposed it was only natural, since this would have been his first time using it consciously, right?

[Why would that be?]

As the green haired mystery child waddled away and down an alley out of sight. Hitoshi chose not to take note of how that wasn’t the way back to the entrance. He chose not to notice how he never quite felt his quirk take effect.

[ If you only knew ]

Oh, there was that feeling again. His mind whispered in dark tones.

There’s the path to the next person. There's the next one that needs saving.

[Aren’t you such a hero.]

- - - -

How many? How many... fifty? Fifty points? Is that enough?

Kirishima’s arms burned. His everything burned. Trying to keep tensed up for so long had exhausted his stamina long ago, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to keep going.

That was the funny thing about it though. He felt as if he’d been running on fumes the majority of the time he’d been there. But despite that he never stopped, the performance never dropped but instead evened out at a steady rhythm of pouches, kicks and jumps.

Ejiro wasn’t the most learned student, but he was far from ignorant. What he lacked in understanding quirk theoretics he made up for in his intuition.

I should have stopped a long time ago by now...

EAT THIS! A boisterous voice echoed through his mindscape, sending shivers down his spine at the memory.

Oh, that was right, he had inherited All Might’s Quirk a few days ago, but he’d been told not to consciously use it unless Mr Toshinori was present. There was all the possibility in the world that the seemingly bottomless yet constantly exhausted feeling stemmed from One for All.

((Yes, that seemed like the natural reasoning behind it.)) His mind responded. 

((Because I often talk to myself in these situations.)) It supplied further.

Of course, how could he forget. That was normal.

Kirishima continued his rampage of bottomless exhaustion with no signs of slowing down.

- - - -

Aizawa scanned the screen in front of him tirelessly, which said a lot considering how rarely ‘tirelessly’ and ‘Aizawa’ were in the same sentence.

All so a sudden, Nedzu’s needlessly cheery voice cut through the collective murmurs of the other staff members, the room was at once both cleared of tension and filled with the fear of God- something only the principal could do. Aizawa knew the rodent loved it, too.

“Hmm! There are quite a few promising students this year! By my count thus far, I’d say we’ve got a new record holder and MVP among the crowd.” 

There were a few hesitant mumbles of agreeance among the faculty as their eyes were drawn back to the screens and their notes, thankful they weren’t being called out by the principal specifically.

Aizawa was settling back into his rhythm just as-

“What are your thoughts, Eraserhead?” The questionably sane rodent asked, not bothering to look back from the screams as he knew Aizawa wouldn’t do the same anyway. Too much effort for pleasantries.

Shouta sighed internally at the question before responding. He knew what Nedzu meant.

Despite making comment on them, the principal wasn’t talking about the students anymore.

“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary, not that ‘ordinary’ seems to be Midoriya’s style. If anything, the whole exam seems to be running as smoothly as ever.”

“... perhaps too smooth.” Was all the principal responded with, accompanied by a moment of silence in the room before observations continued.

On top of scouting potential students, Aizawa had also been tasked with lookout duty for anything related to their mystery child as he had been investigating the case the longest out of anyone present.

As far as he could tell, there was nobody out in the fields acting suspiciously. There had been no malfunctions in cameras or robots, and all potential students were accounted for.

Nedzu had ordered there to be no movement through the rest of the UA grounds for the duration of the exam, and that held true. On a panel beside him, Aizawa saw no anomalous happenings anywhere from the tracks to the classrooms and anywhere in between.

Furthermore, there was nobody inside the exam that wasn’t able to be identified on file. Every square inch of the exam was monitored, even the rooftops and alleys on the edges of the fake city where nobody ever went. On top of that, even if someone had managed to sneak in under cover, the files’ background checks had all proven valid- a duty that Aizawa never wanted to repeat- and he doubted Midoriya would go to such lengths as to grow a few centimetres just to blend in with the crowd. All Might had said that the kid looked deceptively young, but nobody in the examination groups looked a day under 15.

UA was the most secure place possible through human hands, save for Tartarus of course, but thankfully the maximum security division weren’t the ones with a mystery child infestation and potential information leak, at least as far as he knew...

“Well, looks like it cannot be helped. I suppose it’s about the end of the exam now, isn’t it?”

Aizawa could hear the insane grin on Nedzu’s face.

“Which means it’s time for the grand finale!”

Something deep in Aizawa’s subconscious told him that was a bad move.

- - - -

Kirishima didn’t recall exactly how he’d ended up on one of the highest roves in the city, only that dive bombing robots had seemed like a good idea at the time.

He'd just torn himself through the chest of a one-pointer that had apparently followed him up there as the roof started shaking violently. An earthquake? No, this seemed too manufactured and the buildings were designed to be strong enough to withstand it anyway.

So what could-

*CRASH*

Down on the street and down the way- about eight buildings down from where he stood- an absolute behemoth loomed over the tops of already massive buildings. With a slight twist of its arm, an entire wall gave way, showering the street below in dust and debris.

It took a moment for the redhead to gain enough footing on the shaky ground to stand confidently again.

The fake street below was filled with a mixture of panicked screams and screeching metallic hisses as the beast rolled its way towards the centre of the city from where it emerged at its edge. It approached surprisingly fast for its size.

Ejiro almost joined the masses in their escape, supposing that a rooftop posed no tactical advantage to something that would just crush the foundations. And from the look of it, it was a zero-pointer anyway, no real merit in taking it down, so why bother? Whatever had been powering him before was long gone and his limbs had started feeling heavy.

Quirk Overuse, his mind supplied. Right, exhaustion was a thing.

Before he could make a speedy descent however, another shattering crash was heard, as the robot ignored several buildings in its path, causing chunks of concrete to rain down on the street from a few rows down big enough to maim or kill.

Time to go. Screamed something in his mindscape.

But then he heard a different scream.

Peering over the edge of the building and into the sea of rubble, Kirishima caught a glimpse of a brown head of hair among the grey, while a few other kids ran away screaming, having dodged the deadly downpour.

Time stood still for the hero-to-be. But not in a way that felt forced. This was brought upon by adrenaline and a choice.

A choice that mattered, a choice that he wouldn’t be able to take back no matter the outcome, and one that he refused to get wrong.

Because there was a wrong answer.

Ahead of him, level with the building he stood on top of now and out in the middle of the street stood a metal behemoth. Its iron fist pulled back ready to deal a finishing blow.

They’d never harm a student! You can go, just leave. Run for the exi-

Kirishima didn’t let his head finish that sentence. Some choices didn’t require one to think. Just do...

It began with a step. And then another.

A rhythm built like the beating of a heart or the banging of a wardrum.

A rhythm that Kirishima had felt all day but died out when he needed it most? No, bullshit.

He’d just make his own rhythm to step to.

He jumped. Leaped off the edge of the building, fist cocked back in mock of the robotic hulk in front of him.

Just a few seconds, that’s all it would take.

A punch.

A life saved.

Red veins of energy pulsed around Kirishima’s fist, tensed and hardened to that of steel- further than he’d ever been pushed dared to push before.

This was what being a hero was.

Just a few seconds before impact.

Three...

Two...

One...

- - - -

Shinso had just finished freezing a brown-haired girl from the rubble when his vision returned from the tunnel it was in.

He’d been on autopilot for what seemed like an eternity or more. Not only vision but also judgement and reason clouded in a mist.

Now that he could see where he was however, now that his duty to save- to be a hero like he was born to be- was fulfilled, he took the girl’s arm over his shoulder, picked her up bridal style and ran as the biggest robot he’d ever seen cast a shadow as dark as the night sky over them and down the street. It blocked out the sun with its hull, but not the sight of the fist threatening sure destruction by its hand.

You know when you begin running away from something and you scream at yourself to not look back?

How you look back through the primal urge to stare death in the eyes one last time?

When Shinso looked back, he didn’t expect to see a figure jump from the concrete jungles’ tallest tree. He didn't expect to see them trist in mid air and pull their fist back ready for contact.

He didn’t expect to see someone else up there too...

[Well,] His subconscious commented.

[Stare long enough into the abyss and something’s sure to stare back.]

- - - -

Kirishima had expected pain. Expected the feeling of his first meeting hardened steel plates and cracking under the pressure. Expected to fail, fall, and maybe not get back up...

Kirishima had not expected to freeze.

But there he was, trapped in a fragment of a moment. Falling infinitely but also falling no more.

The One-pointer in front of him stared back, equally static in the moment of eternity.

And something else stared back too, between the hulking mass of metal and himself, something stared back with eyes of collapsing galaxies. Eyes that threatened how easy it would be to un-make something. Eyes overflowing with a degree of righteous fury that the power inside Kirishima, his purpose and will all faded from a raging fire to a dwindling ember.

Those eyes, green and infinite, framed by the face of a child- or that which wore a child’s skin- stared back.

And then it spoke.

“Ejiro Kirishima. I suppose you didn’t read my book.”

Oh fuck.

Chapter Text

Time stood still for two humans that day.

“Ejiro Kirishima. I suppose you didn’t read my book.”

Kirishima was currently suspended mid-air, fist cocked back and prepared to collide with the gargantuan zero pointer in front of him. He had leapt off of a high building- still surprisingly untouched despite the thing’s rampage- and plummeted with little to no plan or considerations for his action’s consequences.

It was weird at the time, too. Jumping.

Like there was some part of him screaming to save the one trapped under the rubble despite the danger- that’s what a hero would do.

But then there was some far larger, far more artificial but at the same time old- integrated part of him that told him to ignore it.

Kiri may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn’t one to blindly follow along with the whims of... whatever that was. He came here to be a hero.

A hero like Red Riot. A hero like All Might. A hero like that... there was a third one, wasn’t there?

Maybe not.

Probably not.

Regardless. It was against all odds that, in that moment - unknown to the redhead - his own will had won out against something far more complex than a whim.

Whatever that thing was, it stared at him with equal parts intrigue, anger, and perhaps a little fear over those implications. But Ejiro didn’t need to know that.

He wouldn’t know that.

The thing would make sure of that.

- - - -

Oh fuck.

“... what? Not even a hello? Honestly, I thought you of all people would be more polite, Ejiro.”

Oh. Fuck.

“Really? You decide to go against all common sense and leap off of a fucking building but can’t have a civil conversation with your benefactor?”

Ejiro’s body was frozen, all he could move was his head/ Despite that the boy couldn’t convince himself to look around. Couldn’t convince his primal urges to take his eyes off of the predator right in front of him. No, not the one pointer. The once crushing aura the bot gave off was more like a gentle caress in comparison.

Rather, the thing in front of the robot’s face, standing on nothing but air, arms behind its back and gaze fixed firmly back at him.

He couldn’t call it a boy- like it would want you to believe. He couldn’t call it anything, really. What could the young man possibly have to compare to what danced on the edge of his vision when he met this things’ eye. How could he put into words the knowledge of something writhing under that “childs’” skin?

“Oh now that’s a bit rude, isn’t it?”

OH. FUCK.

- - - -

Izuku stood on reality’s foundation, caught between a hunk of... strangely nostalgic metal, and what was supposed to be the future symbol of... well, whatever young Kirishima wanted to be really. The symbol of excessive hair products, perhaps?

Somewhat of... not exactly an emergency had happened, but certainly a deviation from his plans.

Midoriya casually looked below as Ejiro continued to rattle off rather insulting descriptions of him inside of his head.

Miss Uraraka, a crowd favourite to be sure. Effective character design, a good mix of bubbly personality and underlying conflict.

Carrying her near unconscious and quite close to puking body was Shinso. Equally as frozen as the rest of the world at the moment, the boy was looking back and up at the two of them. A thousand yard stare was so much more unsettling when suspended. Izuku absentmindedly wondered whether or not the purple headed child would remember seeing him or not.

From the looks of it, he had just picked up the young miss and was high-tailing it out of there. He was exactly where he was supposed to be, right on time.

The fist of the robot? It would have fallen short, sending debris a slew of debris and a very specific steel beam flying.

Saving Uraraka was to be Hitoshi’s final heroic act for the day, what would have been enough to grant him the total of exactly 80 hero points, in direct contrast with Bakugou’s 77 villain points and Kirishima’s planned 92 points from both.

Saving Hitoshi from a flying steel beam set to arrive after the fist’s impact would have given young Miss Uraraka enough to be in the top seven. Where the beam landed would have halted Mr Daddy Issues’ assault on a three pointer, allowing Koda’s new lizard friend enough time to chew through a wire, giving him just enough points to tie with young Monoma, towards the lower listings. A discrepancy that would cause some conflict between the homeroom teachers.

The outcome? A free spot in 1A left open for a worthy addition following the Sports Festival.

...

But no.

I forgot how much of a fucking pain free will was.

- - - -

Jesus fucking Christ what in the fresh FUCK do I do. Where is Mr Yagi? Do the teachers know what’s going on? Why can’t I move? Is this that Midoriya? He said ‘my book’, right? FUCK. I should have read the book, I should ha-

“Are you quite done?”

Kirishima was pulled back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack by the voice of it’s harbinger.

The thing stood just as casually as earlier. It stared directly at him- no... through him. It didn’t look like it registered him as a person, a thing. It stared at his soul. It stared at the concept of him. It stared-

“-ma.”

He still couldn’t look at its eyes, not since last time. When was last time? Now? No. Those eyes didn’t have time, those eyes had eyes, old eyes. Those eyes weren’t eyes they were universes within eyes within unspeakable truths within a puzzle of the stuff of-

“-iro.”

Those eyes were angry. They promised unmaking. Jesus... What did he do. What didn’t he do?! Why didn’t he reAD THE BOOK-

“Oi! Diet Red Riot!”

...What?

“Oh, my apologies. Would you rather Riot Lite(™)?”

In any other situation, Kirishima may have even laughed- if he wasn’t trapped in time in front of... What was this thing? God?

“I’m flattered.”

Ejiro opened his mouth to speak, only for it to close back shut with a *snap*, narrowly missing his tongue in the process.

“Before you say anything, it’s polite to look the person whom you’re talking to in the eye, you know.”

All of a sudden, the restraints that were holding the redhead in place- the shackles chaining him to his decision to jump- were loosened and then cut. However, he did not fall. Instead landing with unnatural grace on the same invisible platform Midoriya stood on.

He stared down. Tried to stare down. The unbelievable pressure standing right in front of him threatened to kick his feet out from under him.

But then the familiar force that had prevented him from speaking began twisting his head and gaze up. Ejiros’ movements were not his own as he stood stock still, unable to run despite now being free- unable to avert his eyes any more.

Their eyes met.

And there was nothing.

Not like nothing, but what Kirishia was met with were two forest green and very human eyes looking back at him with a soft, calm expression. A small smile plastered itself underneath, lined with a set of perfectly normal, human teeth. There was no depth far greater than any sea trench there, no crushing pressure.

No anger.

If anything, the boy in front of him- who looked no older than ten years old mind you- gazed up at him with an odd happiness. Joy?

“There you are! Hello!” The boy, Midoriya, chirped in a child’s voice.

“I was beginning to think that you didn’t want to meet me.” They said with a pout.

“I-”

“Ah! Of course, I should have introduced myself formally.” The boy bowed quickly, smile returning.

“My name is Izuku Midoriya, I’m the one who suggested you to Mr All Might! I wrote that book for you, too. But it doesn’t look like you’ve read it. My apologies, it was pretty late when I got it to you so that’s on me.”

“No I-”

“I’d like to start by saying sorry for freezing the place and yourself just now. I just really needed to tell you something! You would have known if you read the book but because of my error you didn’t have enough time! If I hadn’t stopped you, you would have been in grave danger!”

That brought Kirishima back a little more. Danger? Had he done something wrong? He thought he was in trouble for being too shit scared to read the book, but that didn’t seem the case. What would have happened?

He was about to ask, before Izuku interjected with perhaps the worst answer to be spoken in such an enthusiastic tone.

“Explosive limb detachment!” They beamed

“... what.”

“Ah! Allow me to explain.” The boy said, pulling a whiteboard and markers out from... somewhere in his periphery. But that was normal.

There was no need to question that.

“You see, your body as it is now is in no shape to handle the full power of One for All. Despite Mr All Might’s confidence in you, his own perception of the quirk’s collective power has been skewed by his injury.” Midoriya drew a quick diagram of the potential power, that which was stored currently, and that which he was about to use, all in comparison to All Might’s.

“As you haven’t had any prior experience with the quirk, your body, bones, muscle tissue, etc, haven’t had the time to acclimate. Your body has no concept of how much power is needed. What you’re trying to do now is crack an egg with a sledgehammer.” A drawing of an egg and sledgehammer danced across the whiteboard like an animatic.

Kirishima stood mouth agape at what he was hearing and seeing. It took him a moment to realise Izuku had stopped his explanation waiting for the redhead to catch up.

“I- I think I’ve got it.”

“Cool!” He said, returning to the board.

“Now, you may be wondering, ‘but Izuku, why are you explaining all of this? If you stopped me from rushing the bot and know how much power is needed compared to how much I was using, why don’t we just go from here and reset it? Take two on the whole thing? Why do I need the full walkthrough for such a simple fix? I’ll just lower the amount of power I was using and we’ll resume!’”

Kirishima wasn’t sure if he had been thinking that or not, but now he was. Honestly he was too enraptured by this small human’s explanation to say otherwise.

“And to that, I say sorry again! I may have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not Omniscience- I mean Omnipotent.”

“Once you’ve started down this road, you can’t go back. The potential energy that you stored up will become kinetic as soon as time resumes. Energy can only be converted, not destroyed, not completely. I speak from experience.”

“A-anyway! You have too much potential energy in that fist of yours to be dispersed! And the way you were going about it, your arm wouldn’t just break, it would quite possibly atomise!”

Kirishima felt like he was going to puke. Hearing all of this, he couldn’t help but be so thankful to his saviour. Honestly, he was so stupid. Such a fucking idiot. He was a failure and an unwelcome variab-

“But it’s okay! We can fix this. We just need to get your body ready for the impact. There’s only one way to do that.”

With the most confident face he’d ever seen, Izuku turned back from the whiteboard and pointed at Kirishima’s chest.

“You’ve got to get hard Kirishima!”

... what?

- - - -

Okay. Okay okay. Izuku had explained to him the steps, gone through the motions. He knew what he had to do, he just had to do it now.

Midoriya had left about a minute ago, saying that he had to go restart it. In that time Kirishima had gotten back into position as if nothing had happened. Suspended once more and primed to punch the shit out of a big robot.

The main difference, however, were key points around his body that Izuku had told him to harden to serve as shock-absorbers for the impact. Places that were softer, like his sides, his joints, his neck especially were all hardened as well as he could. It was considerably easier to hold them too, thanks to Midoriya’s coaching and interpretation of All Might’s honestly terrible ‘Clenched Butt(™)’ approach to power.

Other than that, Ejiro’s hand was sturdier than ever, but Izuku had specifically told him not to harden the rest of his arm.

(((If you do that, the shock of impact will have nowhere to go. I’m sorry to say that I won’t be able to save your arm bones from a few cracks, but it’s better than the shock travelling through your organs! Recovery Girl will be there when you land anyway. Oh! And be sure to switch and harden all of the rest of your body as soon as the punch is delivered. It’ll be difficult, but if you’re going to need to. If you fall from this height without the extra defence, your arm or a few ruptured organs will be the least of your worries.)))

A shiver went down Kirishima’s spine remembering the boy’s words.

A countdown echoed in his mind in a familiar voice.

Three...

Two....

One.....

Good luck young Kirishima, I will be seeing you soon.

And just like that, the world resumed. None the wiser of what had just happened.

SMASH!

- - - -

Hitoshi limped out of Recovery Girl’s tent. He’d been hit by a stray chunk of concrete when the one pointer fell, bringing a building down with it.

The bandage around his knee was uncomfortable, but was far better than the alternative.

“I liked these pants, too.”

“I wonder if mum will let me out to go get new ones?” He mused, looking around as if seeing the outside world for the first time. The UA grounds were really damn pretty...

(His lucid mind ignored the old phrasing of the question he just asked himself...)

Recovery girl said it’d take two days at most for his leg to heal fully, pretty good all things considered. He’d spend the next few days at home and go get what he needed for school in the days left before it started.

(Again, something chose for him to ignore the odd confidence.)

“Wait... did I even kill any bots-” Shinso began to wonder before he heard someone behind him call out.

“Heyyy~!”

Oh it was the brown haired girl. It looked like she was better after seeing Recovery Girl, that was good.

She caught up to him, out of breath, about halfway to the busses back to the main school building and eterance.

“You’re just gonna leave without saying goodbye? I didn’t even get to say thank you!” She exclaimed, pouting.

“Oh, uh- sorry? I’m... glad to see you’re okay?” Responded the tired teen awkwardly, not sure how to respond.

Sensing the boy’s social awkwardness, Ochako simply beamed.

“Uraraka. Ochako Uraraka. It’s nice to meet you when we’re not about to be crushed by a giant robot~ eheh.” She tried

The morbid humour earns one of those ‘watching cat videos at 4am’ nose exhales and smiles.

“Shinso Hitoshi.” He responded simply. The air of awkwardness had considerably lessened. This girl was surprisingly easy to get along with.

“Oh! Whoops! It looks like the bus is waiting for us! Did you wanna sit next to each other?”

The two began to move off, idly chatting about what they think they got.

Hitoshi appreciated her not lingering on it when he mentioned not destroying any bots.

- - - -

It wouldn’t be until Hitoshi was lying back in bed, reflecting on the day that he’d realise something. Eyes blowing wide and staring at the ceiling.

“... Did I make a friend today?”

“...”

“... Huh. Neat.”

Hiroshi forgot to remember what else he saw that day.

- - - -

Yagi sat back in the teacher’s observation room, off to the side and with his own monitor that he could switch the view of. He wasn’t in charge of anything per se, points were calculated by people far more qualified than himself, he wasn’t a homeroom teacher so didn’t need to watch the whole cohort.

What he did need to watch, though, was a young man with red, spiky hair and a new national secret to keep.

The number one hero couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride whenever young Kirishima tore through another robot. Even more so whenever he saved someone from said robot’s path beforehand.

What was my score from back in the day? Eighty... five? That sounds about right. I wonder what young Kirishima is up to by now. I’ll console him later, he shouldn’t be concerned if his score is lower than mine, it’s the heart that counts! Thought the blond buffoon with baseless confidence.

It was only towards the end of the exam that said smile would finally leave.

- - - -

Screams. That’s all that had been coming through the observation room’s audio system for the past few minutes. Screams of such intense pain, screams of pure anguish that cause the heart to skip a beat.

Yagi looked around the room at the other staff, a pleading expression through desperate, tearstained eyes. Frozen, all suspended with unaware smiles and eyes trained to the same images as Toshinori. However, he was the only one seeing them, by the look of things.

As Yagi looked back to the screen, mouth open in a silent scream. His left side ached. It burnt.

His own blue eyes met green.

And he knew they were looking at him. He knew they saw him. The thing wearing those eyes smiled as another bone was snapped with an audible *pop*.

“Enjoying the show are you, Mr Yagi?”

*Crikk* Another, even louder scream.

“Please believe me when I say I don’t enjoy this.”

An odd sound, squishing and reversing as a young redhead man’s arm- that had a bone protruding from it’s taught skin just a moment ago- was remade. Good as new. No physical scars remaining.

“It’s just a lovely way of hitting two birds with one stone, it truly is a beautiful method.”

A grunt of effort as All Might’s disciple had his femur broken in three different places. The pleading, begging to stop continued as the green-headed demon gripped the other leg.

“Each time young Kirishima’s bones break, they’ll come back even stronger! Trust me. I speak from experience.”

Muscle fibres and bone marrow weave themselves together just as fast as Midoriya tears them apart. A technique adapted from a rather interesting child he likes to watch every now and again.

“Oh but don’t worry sir! Your student here is currently having a lovely little lesson on shock absorption and working around your fucking dog shit teaching methods! I’ll make sure he’s none the wiser, after I’m done taking my frustrations out, of course.”

And so the screams continued, for what felt like hours. All the while, Midoriya dropped small hints at his own method. Hints towards far worse things, all narrated as if he’d experienced them firsthand.

“It’s rather nostalgic, actually. Seeing something with this much value for their own life. Ahh~ brings back some memories. Not that they’re my own, but still. It’s the thought that counts.”

(((What is this delusion you have of yourself, young Midoriya? That you are some sort of... what? Fallen angel?)))

“Oooh, Mr Yagi. You flatter me. No no, by all means I’m no fallen angel-”

A sickening crack as Midoriya reaches into Kirishima’s chest, through the ribcage and gripping the spine.

“Because I’m still falling.”

Chapter Text

“I- I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. Could you please rephrase that sir?”

Inko Midoriya gripped her son’s hand with all the strength she could muster. Admittedly, it wasn’t much at the moment.

“Er... Yes, Ms Midoriya... It appears that your son does have a Quirk, as evidenced by his lack of the pinky toe joint early researchers determined a telltale sign of a Quirk being present. This is further evidenced by the results we got from testing a few days ago…”

“I understand this, sir, but why are you saying this as if a Quirk is a bad thing?”

Izuku sat beside Inko, head down and unregistering of what was going on around him. The four year old child hadn’t been listening for some time. He never listened, not really.

It was a sad fact, but one that the world had learned to accept.

It wasn’t like Izuku chose not to listen, if he could, he’d choose to register everything around him down to the most minute detail.

But no. Midoriya wasn’t allowed to do that. Never had been, never would be. That was how the world worked.

“... Ms Midoriya... I’m aware that your son has some... learning difficulties? Yes?”

Ah, he caught that one. That’s what the grown ups said when they talked about him. Were they talking about him? That’s nice.

Ms Midoriya remained silent as she glanced over to her son.

“W-well, we believe that may be a side effect of this particular quirk-”

“What?! Th-that doesn’t make any sense, sir. No, no no, Izuku has... been as he is... since birth. How could he-”

“-Ms Midoriya.” Began the doctor with a stern, controlled voice. Far removed from the timid treading he had been doing previously.

“With all due respect, there have been cases of Quirks being present since birth. I believe young Izuku’s condition has never been officially diagnosed, yes? Medical professionals are apprehensive to diagnose a child with anything until they are of age to expect Quirk development. As Izuku is now well within that age group, I believe it is safe to assume that this... Quirk, whatever it may be, has caused this- how should I say... mental gap, in Izuku’s function compared to a normal pers-”

“How. Dare. You?...”

The doctor, who had until this point been spurred on by authority and a so called ‘professional opinion’, now cowered in his sear, recoiling ever so slightly at the absolute promised murder at the woman’s tongue.

“I- excuse me?”

“Yes. Very much ‘excuse you’, good doctor. How dare you pussyfoot around and insult my son to my own face?”

Inko Midoriya was physically leaning over the doctor in his chair now.

“He may not be able to hear you so much right now. But you had better bet on your fancy slip of cardboard hanging up on the wall behind you that. I. Can.”

“Izuku. Whether his condition is due to some unidentifiable quirk, genetics, bad luck, god or whatever opposes it, is still my son. And, as any mother should, I will be protecting that son with my life, whether he is aware of that or not. You of all people, you piggy nosed, rotten little sad excuse of a doctor, are not allowed to compare my son to a ‘normal person’ as if he isn’t human.”

The very aura that Inko released into the room would be enough to make even those with a death wish reconsider. The doctor, now attempting to hide behind a thin clipboard and a few sheets of paper, was wondering where on the spectrum he sat.

And there Izuku sat through it all. There but not quite. A four year old trapped in his own mind but free to roam wherever.

The boy stared at an ant on the floor dancing for him, just for him, a special little performance, and the rest of the world just didn’t seem to matter in that moment.

Izuku Midoriya was possibly the most curious case of... well, what was now clinically accepted as a Quirk’s effects on the psyche, to have ever graced the Earth.

Since birth, Midoriya had never quite “been there” , not present, not registering the world. The young child was still able to function perfectly fine, leading to the false diagnosis of selective mutism in years prior. But that wasn’t quite it either.

It was less that Midoriya was closed off from the world and more like the world was closed off for Izuku. As if he was living his life in a box. As if in a different dimension from everyone else. Unable to interact directly with those around him, like a ghost. Like he existed in liminal space, and the only time he could register there was anyone living around him was under very specific circumstances.

That bowl of Katsudon placed down in front of him when he sat at the dinner table? For all he knew it was just supposed to appear out of nowhere at those certain times, but he still knew that this person, his mother, had made it for him. There was just... something there that separated him from connecting the two places.

A sigh permeated the room.

Inko stood upright and gazed back and down to her son, sitting and waiting quietly in his own little world.

The softest, warmest, most genuine smile able to be perceived by human hearts made its way across her face.

“Because doctor, he is human. Izuku is perhaps the closest person in this world to being human. He’s too human, and that’s okay. Sometimes we just have to adapt.”

Not another word was spoken, not another noise, other than the squeaking of the doctor’s chair and the light pitter-patter of two pairs of footsteps making their way out of the room. The quirk diagnosis was not collected, instead left on the doctor’s clipboard to look at every now and again and remember the wrath of a mother.

The Midoriyas would receive their Quirk testing fees in the mail a few days after, as per regulations for such events.

Time, with no regard for emotions, would pass all the same.

- - - -

“Sometimes we just have to adapt.”

“-have to adapt.”

“-adapt.”

Chains rattled through an endless existence, nothing was absent, all was all.

The blatant filling of everything was the ironic downfall of creation.

As with all things, not only is there an equal and opposite reaction of force, but without that opposition, no force would be able to exist whatsoever.

It’s all a perspective of time, really.

Take the example of an observation of a gun firing.

Trigger is pulled, gun recoils as the bullet is expelled at force.

By an observer’s standpoint, the reaction- the recoil of the gun- is the equal opposite and necessary force from the projectile. The recoil is the reaction, the product dependent on another force.

Without the gun’s trigger being pulled, there would be no recoil. In much the same way, there would be no bullet fired without the recoil, not effectively. But this does not mean that the bullet is the reaction of the recoil, they are simply equal forces in opposition after one is initiated. There is always a first.

However, if one were to run that in reverse, if time were to run backwards a moment after the gun is fired. If the bullet travels into the barrel of the gun instead of out, then the action of recoil comes first. Would it not be reasonable to now view the bullet as the result of the recoil?

Perhaps, but only if the energy remains the same.

In the case of time running backwards, the energy from the bullet, the gun, the recoil, and even the force applied to the trigger is being transformed from kinetic into potential energy. This basic rule of thermodynamics, when applied to theoretical situations as time running backwards, gets a little jumbled.

You see, the future is still the future, regardless of the way time is running. There are an infinite number of possibilities, and just because time decides to get a little wonky in one of them, let’s say- for a moment- that the gun is still going to be fired in every reality. That is certain.

It is a certainty that the gun will be fired, the only variable is time.

So, if the energy of the gun is now all potential energy in the reality that we will designate... let’s say... reality  A. Then in reality B, the same amount of energy is currently kinetic now that we freeze time at the moment both actions are completed.

Canonically, gun A has not fired yet, gun B has fired.

Now place both reality’s guns side by side in a space where the addition of the gun and its energy has ‘filled’ the space. No more ‘something’ can be placed there. There is already too much ‘something’ there.

Now, we flip the properties of each gun. Gun from reality B will rewind, gun from reality A will fire.

Which process will be ‘permitted’ to complete in a space always entirely occupied by ‘something’?

Would it be the rewinding of energy from kinetic and into potential, or would it be the conversion from potential into kinetic?

Both?

Neither?

Only one?

Only one sometimes? Alternating Tuesdays and public holidays, perhaps? Maybe one of the guns isn’t just feeling up to it that day. Who are you to judge? What? Do you know the gun personally? No, you don’t, so shut the fuck up and answer the question.

Chains rattle in the something, there’s no room there for them to make noise, just exist. They rattle all the same.

Limbs grip chains in the something, too much to pull under the weight of what was once nothing. They grip all the same.

A prisoner gasps through the something, pleading for a retreat from the crushing existence, forgiveness, something, they did not know.

The mad ramblings of a prisoner echo through something, they hold no relevance in the sea of everything but, but they’re there all the same.

A tally mark joined a horde of 1461 others, forced into existence by taking something of equal value. Nothing more can be added than the more that already occupies the space than the more which already exists than the more which consumes more than the more which promises all than the more which takes nothing.

But that’s okay.

Sometimes we just have to adapt.

Chapter Text

An old wooden door slammed open against stained pink, green, yellow and brown wallpaper. Some stained with gel ink, others with spaghetti and gravy, and a good amount of blood, too.

“Honeeey~ I’m hoooome~” The master of the estate called out into a sea of rubble, only to be greeted by a disembodied voice. Nowhere near as enthusiastic as his own, but still oddly welcoming regardless.

“Very good sir. I trust all of your affairs are in order?”

“Of course! Oh~ you should have seen it, Jeeves. It’s spectacular up there! So much colour! So much shit to do! So many people to fuck with! Oh and... so- SO many babies. What, people are having like eight, maybe nine kids nowadays?”

“I believe the average is two or less, sir. Though I may look into it, if you wish.”

“Bah! Pff, don’t worry about it, I’m probably right.”

Izuku continued to make his way through the room, attempting to remove his shoes as he walked- to much difficulty- one should add.

Ah, and now Midoriya is flipping off the narrator. Very mature of you.

“HEy! JeEEVes!” Pleaded Midoriya to the darkness through gritted teeth, having been reduced to lying on his back attempting to chew the shoes off instead.

“You called, sir?” The darkness responds, an ever vigilant presence.

“PFFTHBT. Eww .“ A piece of shoe goes flying off into nothingness. The rest slips off easily, Midoriya having found the Velcro straps not completely undone.

“Progress reports? Guests? Things that go bump in the night? Computer beeping? Me dying anywhere? Any juicy gossip or small children at the door? I always seem to be out when that happens, I’d love to meet some of them one day.”

“Of course, sir. I will personally see to it that.”

“Regarding progress reports, the abyss has been seeing some movement as of late, I believe a number of turf wars have been started in the annual hunt. Containment blocks simulations seven and eight have run their course roughly seventeen thousand times in the past cycle. I believe the participants have resorted to laughter as a coping mechanism.”

“Ooh! Sounds like fun. Was it the bees again?”

“Affirmative, sir. It was the bees again.”

“Fuck I love the bees.”

“Duly noted, sir.”

“Continuing on from the-”

“Just to be sure, they’re not honey bees, right? They’re the other ones, the little microwave ones that I like?”

“I’m not certain, but I’m fairly sure that they’re the little microwave ones, yes.”

“Excellent~ Continue?”

“Of course. As of the last cycle, eight hundred and five anomalous entities have been purged with no sign of restraint. Seven entities have been hand selected by yourself to maintain. The primary guidance function is still in effect, as per your request.”

“Very good, thank you for that.”

Izuku continues ahead. Rubble, soot and ashes pave the way ahead of him, constructing a pathway only he may walk through the comfortable nothing. Pieces flock to wherever he steps in a cacophony if distant realms stitched into one.

“Several realities have run their course, a number of other insignificant ones began but were never completed before the concept could form. None of the former contained anomalous material.

“The Guidance Initiative Management Protocol that you requested has been successfully integrated and has been monitoring any versions of yourself requiring assistance through anomalous means.”

“Very good! You’ve worked hard, I appreciate that. Remind me to give you a vacation one of these days, good buddy.”

“I am unable to do anything of the sort, sir.”

“Remind me anyway, maybe something will come of it.”

“Very good, sir.”

Midoriya’s march through the abode slows to a crawl as a large slab of shattered concrete snaps into place with an audible crunch against dried and dying leaves from another piece of reality. Atop the chuck sits a large chair, far too big for the boy’s frame. A desk slides across to it from out a cupboard, several other compartments fold in on themselves before disappearing back.

Perhaps if Midoriya was anyone other than himself, he may even have called the chaotic mess oddly beautiful.

It takes some time for the boy to get seated comfortably before speaking again, resting his head back against the soft embrace of fabric and closing his eyes.

“Were you able to see into the school’s affairs after I left? I’m afraid I was running a bit late and wasn’t able to catch the discussion.”

“Of course, sir. I will bring it up now.”

“Oh, no... no, I think I might just sit here for a while and let myself settle.”

“Of course. I will have it prepared for when you are ready.”

But the promise fell on deaf ears by the time Jeeves spoke.

Midoriya was already fast asleep.

With a flurry, a small green and black quilted blanket made its way over to the chair the boy sat in, tucking itself in around his form.

“Sleep well, sir.”

- - - -

UA Conference Room - Following the Entrance Exam.

Time Since Completion : 3 hours, 35 minutes, 7 seconds.

“...Well?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing.”

Principal Nedzu sat at one end of a large desk, Eraserhead and detective Tsukauchi at the other. The two most sleep deprived gentlemen at the table stared at the centre of the table, where a single sticky-note lay stuck to the surface.

Izuku Midoriya -

Known Facts:

• ???

“And so the mystery continues.” Concluded the principal, rubbing his temples with his paws before filing his tie.

“And you say that All Might had to leave on ‘urgent business’ directly after the exam?”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t even say where he was going or for how long. But without him, we can’t exactly come to any conclusions.” Sighed Aizawa, defeated and craving a full eight hours of sleep.

“You say that as though something felt off.” Both Naomasa and Nedzu almost say in unison.

Aizawa doesn’t seem phased, continuing as normal.

“Well, yeah. He didn’t exactly look very... well. His eyes were darting about and he was breathing heavily. He was erratic, skittish. Like he’d just seen a ghost I guess. I did ask if he wanted to check up with Recovery Girl but he denied it instantly, too quickly. He made a beeline for the door and I haven’t heard anything since.

The room fell into a thick silence, pierced only by the steady rhythm of a wall clock above the office door.

“I was almost ready to presume our number one hero compromised, but hearing that...”

“He knows something, then.” Responded Nedzu, finally. Paws crossed and rested on the table. The manic smile from the beginning of the ordeal long since vanished, replaced with a sort of absence.

“My thoughts exactly.” Confirmed Aizawa, eyes drifting back to the name in the centre of the desk.

The ticking of the clock continued as three of some of the greatest minds of UA high sat and contemplated.

Time continued all the same.

- - - - - - - -

Ȩ̪̗̲͕͝ḻ̟̹͕͉͟͟ͅa̗̲̤̬̜̹͈̝͠͡p̩̥̩̣͜͢s̬̲̘̳̕ȩ̸͖̗̖̙̺d̵͍̼͠ Time: 4̴̪͢3̨̱̲̣9̶͈ͅ5̹͉̰̪̥̺͈͕7 ̡̼͎͈͉͓͞H͎͉̭̞̣̜o̶͕̗͚͔̟̰̞͜u҉̴̣͎͕r̸̺͇̟͎͈̭̰s͈̦̼̯͖̫̙̣ ̢̪͕͖͓̱̳̺̮[̞̹ͅE̲̘̜̻a̡̛͕̰̭͖̫͕̻r͏̬̱̥̘͠t̢̻̺̤̤͖̤͝h̞̳͙̬̥]͖͇̻̪͢͞͡ͅ   1PM

“... You ever wonder what goes on in that head of his?”

Inko sighed from across the kitchen table, shifting her gaze from her coffee to the two children on the floor in front of the TV. It was some documentary about the golden age of heroics, as always, but neither Katsuki or Izuku seemed too interested in it. Not that Izuku ever was interested in the television, he found it hard to stay concentrated on it for too long.

The Midoriya matriarch sighed, heavily, but not sadly. It was more bittersweet than anything.

“Sometimes, Mitsuki, sometimes.” She tapped against the coffee mug a few times thoughtfully.

“Sometimes I wish I could have a conversation with him, ask him how he’s going, if he needs anything. That is- I do ask... I just never get any response is all.”

The five year old Katsuki drops the crayon he’d been using to draw out hero costume ideas and spins around to Izuku, who had been busying himself with the carpeted floor in all of its fluffiness.

The paper is gently pushed over to the green haired boy’s line of sight before Katsuki sits back, quietly observing the other young boy.

As soon as the paper leaves Bakugou’s hand, Izuku looks down at it with a quizzical expression, contemplating what exactly the drawing meant.

And then something clicks.

A small smile creeps its way across the boy's face, threatening to grow larger as he traces the lines, quickly reaching over to grab another crayon to add to it.

Katsuki, who was about to protest the vandalism, is stopped by the feeling of his mother’s keen eye on him.

The day progresses, as they all do.

Time passes all the same.

- - - -

Ȩ̪̗̲͕͝ḻ̟̹͕͉͟͟ͅa̗̲̤̬̜̹͈̝͠͡p̩̥̩̣͜͢s̬̲̘̳̕ȩ̸͖̗̖̙̺d̵͍̼͠ Time: 4̱̗͇͙͝3̸͟͏̖̜9̬̺̺̼̦̩̬̬͝7̡͚͚͙̰͎̮̬͚̜͢0̶̺͙͕̹̖̩̠ͅ ̟̫̯͇̯̬H̢̞̬̮̪͠o̵̴̜̰u̶̘͇r̶͖͚̲͙̯͜s̰͖̬ ̩̼̻͓̤[̰̠̜̬̯E̟̻̯̫̖͔̯̜̜͟a҉̖̥r̸̴͖̘͎̖̜t̴̟̫͖̗h̴̲̞̜̞̘]̸̠̹͔̫̬ ̴͏̖̙͇͇̪̫̬͚ 2AM

A young Izuku rifles through a drawer of papers in the dead of night.

He does this often. A sense of adventure some may say. A way to communicate, to others. Perhaps he just liked to read and didn’t understand the social norms.

Izuku’s never been good with social norms.

Another filing cabinet door closes as the young child begins sifting though the next, searching for one slip of paper in particular.

The child skims through the papers as if possessed, compelled by an unidentifiable force until-

- Musutafu Quirk Counselling Centre -

Something earns an amount of undivided attention rare in Izuku’s eyes.

The small child plops himself down at the base of the desk and flips open the manilla folder. Within was held an official document some would stress to be more important than a birth certificate these days.

The small entity effectively tears into the folder with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm.

And then they were met with a single slip of paper.

Izuku Midoriya

Quirk: Penance Isolation

Limits higher functions in regards to interactions with other people.

...

And that was it. 

There was absolutely nothing more printed onto the page other than that. For all intents and purposes, the “official document” could have been reduced to a sticky note and served the same purpose.

Attached to the document on its own page was an addendum. The boy flipped it over and scanned over the pages’ contents with a new expression of indifference.

No further testing has been requested, nor is necessary for Izuku to live a perfectly functional, normal life.

In all honesty, it would be difficult to know exactly who whoever wrote the note was trying to convince.

Regardless, it didn’t really matter. These people, the beings that wrote about him like this, even the words themselves could only sit at the edge of his conscious thoughts. Afterthoughts in a sea of absentminded existence.

It was an odd sensation really, to not know nor care. There was something there for sure, something that the green-headed child knew he should care about, something was just out of reach.

 Izuku didn’t know why... but the words made him very, very angry.

That was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time before.

Chapter Text

The forests to the east of Musutafu were renowned for their beauty. Little pockets of art hidden away and protected from modern society. Even if they weren’t so hard to get to, surrounded by steep cliffs as they were, the land wouldn't have seen the same rapid industrialisation as further West, where easier to obtain and more valuable natural resources lay.
As such, Musutafu’s nature reserves were born. And- surprisingly- have been maintained to modern times.

A sacred place through order of elimination.

A place where a moment stretches to an eternity.

Impossible to disturb.

…

Fff-fff fwoosh-

*BOOM*

Until today.

“MIDORIYA!”

Enter the hulking form of one very large, very angry, blond manchild.

The resounding symphony of ancient trees screaming, being reduced to piles of sawdust at the child’s landing, are almost drowned out by his own screams.

“IZUKU MIDORIYA!”

Not that anybody could hear him. Or the trees, for that matter.

If a muscular infant screams out for a tit to suckle in the forest, but nobody who cares is around to hear it, is it contributing to society in any way?

…

Ah, there goes another tree.

You may be wondering exactly how exactly these events came to fruition.

Let’s take a look from the perspective of a frog in the well, shall we?

- - - - - - - -

Heavy breaths, light footsteps.

A skeleton lurches through a dark alley, clinging to his side and his heart for some kind of purchase. And there was none.

-

Yagi Toshinori had played witness to many things in his life.

His late master’s boundless beauty and patience.

The moment those two things were simultaneously cut short.

The hollowed out and long forgotten corpses of cold-cases.

The still-beating but quickly receding heartbeats of fresh ones.

The miracle of childbirth in the most unlikely of places.

That same mother slaughtering her own newborn, if only to escape from her past.

The beauty that the world has to offer, condensed into only a moment,

And that same beauty being stripped away by the hands of the envious.

Monsters in human form.

And monsters that were never human to begin with.

Through everything the man had seen, through all that he’s done and the secrets he’s kept- as we all do- one thing connects them, no matter how different a sight they may be.

And that was that he always had someone else there with him to share the burden. In some way or another.

In some sick fashion, Toshinori could take comfort in even All for One- the man and the monster- for being there at the time of his master’s death. Whether he’s understood that until now or not… well, that’s a secret the monsters keep, not the humans.

A boy’s screams. Screams that tear vocal cords. Screams that pierce the lungs and send the wind out of any who hear them.

A boy’s bones. Cracked, crumbled, reduced to dust and built back from nothing.

A boy’s tears.

And a monster’s smile.

Perhaps that was it. The difference between sharing a memory with a monster and a man. That even All for One needed empathy to flash a smile. Taking enjoyment knowing others were in pain, losing, knowing that he was winning.

…

Whatever kind of monster Izuku Midoriya was. It didn’t need empathy to enjoy itself. It didn’t take enjoyment out of other’s pain, their torment or loss. It did it out of necessity.

And it sickened the man to know that was the case.

The words echoed through his mind.

“Please believe me when I say I don’t enjoy this.”

But he could not empathise with them.

“-they’ll come back even stronger! Trust me. I speak from experience .”

After all, he was only human.

- - - -

[Musutafu Evening News Hour - UA Broadcast]

“I’m standing here outside of the prestigious UA gates where countless pedestrians and hopeful interviewers have stationed themselves following a shock sighting following the scheduled completion of UA’s notorious Entrance Exam.”

[Musutafu News Now - All Might at UA?!]

“-yes, yes it appears that ALL MIGHT HIMSELF was seen walking out of the school earlier today. As you can see, a crowd has gathered in hopes of-”

[YOURTUBE CHANNEL - Whaddascoop - ALL MIGHT GOES TO UA!?!?!?!?!?11?/]

“Yoooooo… yo what the fuck!? IS that All Might? No wa-”

[SuperheroSights.com - All Might, UA High - Comments section]

AllMightUA.mp4

Wormy: No way this is real.

     <Human: And would you mind explaining how someone can fake this?

     Wormy: Costume, duh. Idiot.

          <Human: Ah yes. Someone dressed as All Might is walking out of UA. Or were you suggesting that the school itself was the costume? Oh how the plot thickens.

          Wormy: [Comment has been removed due to -banned language]

UrMom: HOLYSH1T! LOOK AT THIS TOOJ IT ONM Y PHONW!!! 

JUMP.mp4

FRIDGE: I can’t open it. Is this a virus?

     Tired.: It’s a video of All Might jumping out of a back alley and over the skyline near UA.

          Slapps: How do you know it’s near UA @Tired.????

          Tired.: I was there today.

[IronicText]: Where do you think he’s going? He looks like he’s in a hurry.

     LolGamer:  @[IronicText]. You’re saying that someone who is naturally incredibly fast, and someone whose job it is to get places fast... looks like they’re in a hurry. :Facepalm:

- - - -

Fff-fff fwoosh-

*BOOM*

Ah. And we’re back :)

- - - -

*Inhales Allmightily*

“IZUKU MIDORIYA”

Yagi called out to the thick woodland.

“YAGI TOSHINORI!”

It mocked him back.

“SHOW YOURSELF, MONs- VILLAIN!”

*gasp* “Villain?~”

A young boy called back in fake anguish, clutching his chest tightly and feigning tears, large, heaving breaths and all.

“Oh Yagi, to say such things-” *sniff* “To a child.”

Ah, there it was, that was the tipping point. Had we not reached it yet?

All Might’s eyes flared, brow raised in fury , and sight trained on the ‘child’ clinging on to the trunk of a tall tree in front of Toshinori, sobbing crocodile tears and swinging his legs back and forth across the branch he sat upon.

“You.” Yagi began, pointing up at Midoriya with a lightly trembling hand. It hadn’t stopped shaking since UA.

“You are no mere child. Don’t PLAY THOSE GAMES WITH ME, MIDORIYA.”

“Oh? We’re playing games are we?” Izuku asked, suddenly perking and staring intently at the man below, wide smile across his face.

“Well well well~ What should we play? Snakes and ladders? Monopoly?” *gasp* “Perhaps some strip poker~”

All Might continued to stew in his own emotional turmoil below as Midoriya rattled off games to pass the time.

“Ah! Bingo!”

“ENOUGH!”

Izuku’s arms slumped back to his sides as he stared down at Yagi with a distant, quizzical expression.

“I said… I am not here… to entertain your perverted, twisted sense of humour. Can you even call it that?! What in God’s grace did you show me? What is all of this?!”

And so the giant crumbled. Raising his hands and gesturing all around him, to the world, to everything. He pleaded up at Midoriya for some sort of answer, begging. Ragged breaths filled in the silence as both parties waited, waited, and waited some more.

One could have heard a pin drop, had it not fallen in the haystack which was Yagi’s own mind at this moment.

“Ahhh~” The green headed devil cooed.

Yagi blinked, and it was gone. Only leaving a shadow coiling down the trunk of the tree towards him.

Had he not been rooted in place with spite, perhaps he would have taken a step back.

“So it’s Truth or Dare you want~” Midoriya whispered, suddenly in Toshinori’s ear, caressing his cheek.

“Very well, Mr All Might sir, let’s play.”

That wasn’t an invitation - Yagi’s mind offered, before the abyss began to stare more intently than usual.

Perhaps it was the shock, and All Might’s mind playing catch up, perhaps it wasn’t his thought to begin with-

“That’s… a lot of eyes.”

But Midoriya couldn’t help but feel those were some pretty weak final words from the man who- at one time- could have been his hero.

- - - -

Musutafu Home for the Quirked Elderly

Room 202

Ah, the home for quirked elderly. The answer to the age old question of ‘where do we put the old coots once they can’t work any more and their quirks don’t contribute to society, but we don’t have the heart to off them just yet?’

A perfect little hovel where everything runs like clockwork, by the hour, on the hour, with maybe a little bit of medicated pumpkin soup to spice things up a little.

Nurses and general well-being officers, caretakers and janitors make up the workforce. Each given certain levels of clearance and places they’re allowed to enter in accordance to privacy and potential danger laws. Sometimes the older quirks can get a little out of hand, as one should know. 

Although it’s commonly described as a home, it’s more like a graveyard in all honesty. A large, square, metal and brick building with absolutely no personality or redeeming features other than a warm bed to die in.

Well, better than nothing, one would suppose.

A dull grey, cold room sits in the corner of this place, this sad little excuse for a home.

A rare few are permitted to enter, and that’s only to check the sole inhabitant hasn’t died yet in all honesty. The room is eerily silent at all times. Heart monitor remaining silent, ticking away with purely visual signs of life. The bed-bound owner of said monitor remaining equally silent. Something to do with their quirk, one would assume.

Nobody’s even too sure how he found his way there, other than by odd circumstance and chance.

No recorded family, close or distant.

No recorded online identity, nor real identity of any kind for that matter, other than the family name printed on the ancient quirk database entry they were able to dredge up.

Even then, the thing was so vague and poorly written that one could easily summarise it on a post-it note. If they were to even begin interpreting it at all.

Regardless, none of that really mattered.

After all, a patient that neither talks nor requires any sort of interaction other than the bare necessity for survival? One couldn’t ask for more.

…

A nurse poked their head into the dark room slowly, followed along by the rest of her body. She held a pitcher of water and a replacement for the room’s flowers. Not that anyone would ever really take the time to appreciate them, it was better than paperwork.

. . .

“Oops…”

The nurse looked up from the vase with an uninterested expression to the elderly man on the bed. Faded green streaks through grey and white hues cover most of his face, though a hint of piercing deep green can be seen through the strands. A rare sight for the nursing home.

Mr Midoriya almost never looks at people. Something to do with his quirk… 

The nurse’s attention falls back to the vase slowly, just as the water level evens out.

… Wait-

The young woman’s eyes spring back to the elderly man, head snapping up and attention given to him in full.

And his attention directed straight back. Liberally.

“Mr Midoriya? Mr Midoriya, did you say something?” The woman asked with growing concern. A cautious step taken towards the assistance button and the man himself, still staring directly at her. He wasn’t supposed to stare.

“Mr Midoriya?...” She repeated her hand reaching down to the side of his bed where the button lay, her lifeline at the moment now within reach. What else was she to do in this situation? She’d only just been hired for shift work. This room would usually be off-limits to her, if not for her coworker running late.

“Oopsie daisy.” Cracked, dry lips cured around the words like an untamed serpent. The words not quite belonging, vocal cords not trained for speech. The phrase, not spoken out of lucidity, but rather spite and will alone.

There was no smile on the old man’s face as he spoke for… what was perhaps the first time ever. That had been recorded anyway. But those eyes. Those eyes of deep forest green, usually so distant and disconnected with reality.

“It appears that I’ve died.”

Those eyes smiled enough. Too much. For too many mouths to count.

And they smiled directly at her.

“Mr… Midoriya? I’m not sure I quite understand. Sir, would you like someone to-”

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep-

Flatline.

The usually silently-running heart rate monitor by the man’s side was no longer quietly ticking away on the screen. But was instead alive with monotone warning, a green line dashing across the surface in defeat.

Mr Midoriya did not seem to care.

“Ha…”

“Ahahah.”

“HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHA-”

- - - -

[Special Procedure Sequence Begin]

[Precial Procedure - PANDORA]

>[PANDORA Protocol Begin…]

.

>[PANDORA Protocol Failed.]

>{Reinitialising…]

.

[Special Procedure Sequence Begin]

[Special Procedure - PANDORA-002]

>[PANDORA-002 Containment Protocol Begin…]

Chapter Text

And in the silence, there was a resounding nothingness. A sea of pipedreams and pitfalls, only islands of what shouldn't be breaking the monotony of it all. 

The Collector, still huddled in its little corner of the eighth layer, clutching its hoarded, stolen possessions like an infant would its mother.

The things of the lower Depths, waging their bloody wars for existence. Monarchs rising, wielding the aspines of their predecessors as great weapons of mass destruction. Their carcases as terrible, heretical machines of conflict.

The screaming hordes, a cacophony of guttural shrieks, clinging to the walls and the floors and the ceilings of memories between That Which Should Not Be Ventured.

And the rubble of countless existences, a constant reminder that we aren't the first.

And it won't be the last.

Kneeling before their throne of glass, unaware that it is built fron the shards of what could have been.

If it only had a chance to be.

Oh, and there exist monsters.

Far greater than even the most hubristic of incarnations. Beyond even Him. Towering over the Void, swimming in whatever vaster oceans lay outside of it .

It's best not to pay it much thought.

For when standing on the edge of an abyss, vertigo is a close friend. And fear is what keeps us sane.

And in the silence, there was a scream. As rubble shifted to form a ground to stand upon…

- - - -

"aaAaaA-

AAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA-"

*TH-CKK!*

"A-ah-- AAAAA-"

Broken, heaving sobs broke the screaming, as the crumpled, bloody form of one Yagi Toshinori lay sprawled out on a mass of jumbled, discoloured and scorched concrete. 

One arm, bent in an impossible direction, while the other vaguely resembled a swan.

"Oh for- Really? I go out of my way to give you the PERFECT opportunity for a superhero landing, and this is the thanks I get. A cripple, bleeding all over my guest bedroom slash front porch, slash fireplace. Honestly Yagi, why co-"

Yet more screams interrupted Izuku's chastising, rising blood threatening to drown out the noise with each second… hour? Maybe a decade had passed. It was hard to tell even when Izuku was alone, let alone with someone else present.

"Hhh-I.. I th-hink my spine iihs-"

"Oh fucking walk it off , you're fine."

Izuku responded to the pleading man curtly. All Might's currently being in a state of shock was a real downer, honestly. They'd already missed the last cycle and now they had to wait for yesterday to swing back around before they could keep walking.

…

aaaand there it went. Fantastic.

"Oh for- stOP SCREAMING! LOOK! I CAN DO IT TOO- AAaAaAaAAaAAAAA! Fun, right? No, it gets boring fast. Do you know how much of my life I've spent screaming over a few dislodged vertebrae? Tsk- Some people, really. No respect."

Tapping his foot, Izuku's impatience was palpable as the man basically fused to the rubble behind him yet denied death so stubbornly refused to piece himself back together like the rest of us.

"Fucking- where is that-  JEEVES! GET OVER HERE."

"Sir?" Responded an echoing voice in the layers between layers, not missing a beat.

"Take our guest in and get him cleaned up. Make it as painful as possible but keep him quiet. I don't want to attract any unwanted attention, just had the door fixed."

"Very good, sir."

As the disembodied voice of Izuku's only company faded, so too did All Might's body.

Though, it should be said, with far less silent grace and a lot more screeching as shadowy hands and rebar pulled the man's body into an abyss of eyes and teeth. The concrete he once rested on crumbling away, now without purpose- resources wasted in a place where resources were too few to spare.

With a sigh. Izuku pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, in the comforting presence of silence once again.

"I need a fucking vacation."

- - - -

[Special Procedure Sequence Begin]

[Special Procedure - PANDORA]

>[PANDORA Protocol Begin…]

.

>[PANDORA Protocol Failed.]

>{Reinitialising…]

.

[Special Procedure Sequence Begin]

[Special Procedure - PANDORA-002]

>[PANDORA-002 Containment Protocol Begin…]

>[PANDORA-002 Containment Protocol - S C O R C H E D  E A R T H]

- - - -

“I- I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. Could you please rephrase that, sir?”

...

“Er... Yes, Ms Midoriya… It appears-"