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Chapter Text

The Imperial Palace, Terra, Sol system, 42,000AD.

The Emperor of Mankind was dying. He knew this. Had known it for the past twelve thousand years. However, It seemed as though the day was fast approaching. The forces of Chaos had once again reached the Sol system, in strengths not seen since Horus’ heresy twelve millennia prior. The forces of the imperium had been all but ground to dust. The primarchs, his children, were all either dead or turned to serve the Ruinous Powers, and he was going to die.

For the last 1,000 years, the enemies of the Imperium had beaten at the gates, trying to force their way in, and they would soon succeed. The Khornates demolished his armies in every engagement, with his son Angron even taking to the field occasionally. His son Magnus led the forces of Tzeentch in a terrible campaign of subterfuge and sabotage. His son Mortarion spread plague and death as the right hand of Nurgle, while his son Fulgrim stayed behind enemy lines, overseeing sadistic torture camps that grew the strength of the Chaos army.

In all of his 50,000 years of life, he never thought it would end like this. Once the Emperor died, the Imperium would crumble. Every single one of the nearly 14 billion souls on Terra would be consumed. All that he had worked to build, gone. No matter what he did, how long he held on, within the century, the emperor of mankind would be no more.

However, there was hope. He had just enough power left to cast his soul into the Immaterium, and find a new vessel. Just because his original world was doomed, didn’t mean that he couldn’t save another.

So he searched. He cast his mind into the warp, searching its deepest reaches, where it connected to an immeasurable number of other worlds, probing with his immense psychic might to find a suitable steward of humanity. And after what felt like decades of searching, but may have been only minutes, he found one. A perfect world, one with a yet-unborn vessel, perfect to become a steward, and even better, the world was relatively untainted by the powers of Chaos, though the warp was strong.

Did he regret what he had to do? Yes. He had many, many regrets over the course of his life, but to simply leave his people behind? To leave the race he had carefully shepherded through his entire life to the whims of the Ruinous Powers was not a choice he made lightly. However, if he waited any longer, his body would be too frail to perform the projection, and not only would he doom this world, but his power and mission would die with him.

He would never see Humanity flourish, and take their rightful place as the masters of the universe. He could not allow that to happen. The stewardship would be passed. Humanity would prevail. If not in this life, then most definitely in the next.

And so, as the God-Emperor of Mankind, Steward of Humanity, took his last breath in one world, Izuku Midoriya took his first in another.

Chapter Text

Musutafa, Japan, Earth, 2335 AD

Izuku Midoriya was a strange boy, from the moment of his birth. He was born in 2335, to lawyer Inko Midoriya and salaryman Hisashi Midoriya. However, he did not cry once during his birth. He simply stared at the doctors and nurses with eyes that held far too much pain and knowledge for a newborn. 

However, his father decided that he wasn’t ready for a life of parenthood, and so left Inko to raise their child alone, with only the monthly checks he sent to her proving his continued existence. Inko vowed to do right by her son, and to nurture him into a strong, caring young man.

As little Izuku grew, he formed a friendship with the son of his mother’s best friend, Katsuki Bakugou. They were nearly inseparable, always talking about heroes and villains, both having a particular fixture on All Might, the number one hero. 

However, all throughout his childhood, the people around him noticed certain oddities about the green-haired boy. Often, he would simply stare off into space, looking at nothing with eyes that spoke of unimaginable horrors, then dismiss it moments later, saying that it was nothing. Among the children his age, he was usually among the smartest, strongest, and fastest, despite being lean and short, often winning in play-fights with the much larger (for a 4-year-old) Bakugou. Another odd habit of his was his mumbling. 

Izuku was fascinated by quirks. It seemed as though every time he saw a new quirk, however mundane, he could immediately think of ten ways that the specific quirk was unique, and at least twenty ways it could be used. He usually expressed this in the form of rapid mumbling, sometimes so fast that it seemed like another language. (Unbeknownst to anyone, oftentimes Izuku’s mumblings were in a different language, one that, if anyone cared to listen enough, would resemble a strange permutation of Latin.)

At the age of 4, Bakugou gained his quirk. “Explosion” allowed him to secrete a substance similar to nitroglycerin, though with a much higher explosive yield and much lower heat, and ignite it at will.As would be predicted, Izuku was ecstatic. Immediately, one of the friends’ new favorite pastimes was testing Bakugou’s quirk to see what its limits were. Izuku, however, would go a whole year afterwards until he manifested his quirk, or at least what appeared to be his quirk.

It was the day of Izuku’s fifth birthday, one he intended to spend as he had spent the last four: Running about with Bakugou, perhaps experimenting with Bakugou’s quirk, (though lately, Bakugou had become more aggressive when he used his quirk.) until his mother called them in for cake and presents. A normal birthday, like any other, tinged with the excitement that today might be the day he finally received his quirk. Perhaps fire breath, like his father supposedly had? Or perhaps something closer to his mother’s telekinesis, or a mix of the two? The possibilities were endless, and Izuku’s birthday was planned to be an amazing day.

However, things didn’t quite go as planned. 

“Now, villain, Lord Explosion Murder will defeat you! Prepare to be explodo-killed!” shouted Bakugou, his hands crackling like firecrackers as he rushed forward at his best friend.

“Not today, hero! I’m going to use my super heat ray to boil the ocean, and steal all the water in the world! Muahahahaha!” responded Izuku, raising his arms dramatically.

The two engaged in an epic clash, wild, unsophisticated punches swinging as they made noises of huge explosions and laser beams with their mouths.

Soon, their ‘epic battle’ devolved into wrestling on the floor, growling and yelling as the upper hand switched back and forth between the two boys. However, their roughhousing was suddenly interrupted by a flash of light and a loud pop as the sweat that Bakugou had worked up ignited

.

However, the small flash in Izuku’s face was suddenly overwhelmed by a blinding light that filled his entire vision, which was quickly followed by a wave of darkness.

Izuku sat up in an endless nebula of blues and pinks, with deeper reds and blacks peeking through at the edges of the cloudy swirls. He quickly took stock of his surroundings, noting that while there seemed to be no solid ground beneath him, he was able to stand. However, the most eye-catching thing about the mysterious place he found himself in was the other person, standing across from him.

He was massive, standing perhaps eight feet tall, but not in a lanky way. His hair was long and flowing, framing a face with a heavy brow, large nose, and chiseled jawline. However, the most striking thing about the man were his eyes. They were a glowing gold, radiating pure strength in a way that simultaneously set Izuku at ease and terrified him. 

The man’s clothing was fairly simple, for the regal aura he put out. He wore a buttoned shirt, tucked into a pair of fitted slacks, with shiny brown shoes on his feet. However, if Izuku focused, he could see two other images where the man was, overlapping and blurring together.

One was of a giant, a hulking behemoth in golden armor with a flaming sword and a golden circlet in his hair, looking like an avenging angel, coming to bring wrath and destruction to those who deserved it.

The other was a sickly, corpse-like… thing, for it could no longer be called a man, wired to machinery of all kinds, obviously barely alive, but still radiating an unimaginable level of power.

However, Izuku’s thoughts were cut short as the man spoke, in a voice like a running river, smooth and beautiful, but forceful and overpowering.

“Hello, Izuku. I have waited a long time to meet you. I see that you’ve already seen past my projection. That is good. It shows that you take to our power naturally.”

Izuku was shocked at what the man had said, and just barely stuttered a reply. “W-who are y-you? A-and what do you m-mean ‘our power’?”

The huge man let out a chuckle. “Ah, I suppose it was rude of me to not introduce myself.” The man seemed to take a moment to consider his words before proceeding. “Izuku Midoriya, I am the Emperor of Mankind, the steward of humanity. However, I am also you, and my power is now yours.”

Chapter Text

“Wha-huh?” stuttered Izuku, staring dumbly at the man before him. “What do you mean, you’re me, but you’re also an emperor, and your power is my power, but I don’t even have a quirk, and why are you three people at the same time, and-”

The huge man quieted Izuku with a wave of his hand. “I think that it will be easiest for me to show you. You see, we have an immense mental power, and among the abilities we possess is a form of telepathy. It will be much faster and simpler to give the information to you directly, instead of trying to explain it.”

The man took a few steps closer, and raised his hand. “May I touch you? It is necessary for the process.”

Izuku nodded his assent, and the man laid his hand on Izuku’s forehead. For a moment, there was nothing.

And then, all at once, there was everything .

He saw the birth of a steward in another world, when men still lived in tribes, and feared the chaotic energies they had no way to understand.

He saw the steward guide humanity from the shadows for thirty millenia, as civilizations rose and fell, and eventually, man took to the stars, seeking new worlds and new horizons.

He watched as Mankind became the masters of their fate, able to shape the universe to their whims, and he watched as their own creations turned against them, plunging humanity into a dark age. 

He watched, petrified, as the birth of a dark god brought ruin to the glory of humanity, and felt the steward’s swelling pride as he reunited humanity under one banner.

He felt the pride of a father as the steward crafted his sons, and the pain of losing them to the fickle whims of ruinous gods.

He felt the rage of a thousand suns as the steward tore the galaxy apart, searching for his long-lost children.

He felt the pain and regret as he let that rage consume him and lead him to mistreat the very sons he tried to save.

He felt the sorrow as the steward’s son struck him down, and the agony of being forced to do the same in return.

He felt the indescribable torment of twelve thousand years of constant pain, as the empire the steward built came crumbling down around his head

And, finally, he felt the surge of hope at finding a second chance, another world, another mankind to lead to greatness, not as an emperor, but as a symbol.

And Finally, Izuku understood. He was the Steward. He was the Emperor of Mankind, and he was Izuku Midoriya. One was both, and both were one. 

And he would change the world forever.

Izuku reeled back from the man’s hand, only to find his own face staring back at him where the giant had once been, but with eyes of pure, burning gold. Somehow, Izuku understood that this was his past self. An accumulation of the last steward’s memories and emotions, meant to give guidance along his path.

“Now you understand.” said the Emperor, offering a kind, serene smile.

“I do.” said Izuku, for he did. 

“Now, I’m afraid you must go. TIme flows quite differently in the Immaterium, and I’m sure that Katsuki and your mother are quite concerned.”

In an instant, Izuku found himself in another place.

He felt the spongy softness of a bed, covered in scratchy sheets that weren’t his own. He tried to open his eyes, but was met with blinding light and searing pain, which caused him to let out a groan as he brought his hand up to shield his eyes.

He heard a crash from next to the bed, as a set of familiar voices called out his name.

“Izuku!” Mom and Katsuki seemed very worried, considering he’d only been asleep for a few minutes, maybe an hour.

“What’s going on, why are you so loud?” Izuku muttered, blinking rapidly to try and adjust his eyes.

“What’s going on? You’ve been asleep for a whole damn week!” yelled Katsuki, earning him a light tap on the head from Mom for his language

“Just hold tight till we can get a doctor, baby, they can explain better than we can” Izuku slowly saw his mother come into focus, the lines of worry that were always present in her face now even more pronounced.

“Mom, listen to me,” Izuku started. “I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to sound absolutely crazy, but you have to promist to hear me out. Kacchan, I want you to hear this too…”

Chapter Text

Inko and Katsuki sat in stunned silence as Izuku finished explaining. 

“Are you sure dear? This sounds awfully far-fetched. The doctor thinks you might have a concussion, so maybe-”

“Mom,” Izuku interjects, “Would a concussion let me do this?” As he spoke, he reached out with his mind, focusing on a vase of flowers. At a wave of his hand, the glass vase began to lift from the table and hover a few inches above the surface. As he set the vase down, he continued. “Would a concussion let me know that my doctor’s name is Sato Kenji, aged 34, quirk: Lesser Memory Boost, when I’ve never met him before?”

As if summoned, the doctor walked into the room.

“Hello Midoriya-san, I’m here to check in on- Ah! Midoriya-kun, you’re awake! I’m Doctor Sato, your primary physician, and I’m here to check up on you.”

“Hello Doctor,” replied Izuku. “I believe you’ll find that I’m in perfect health, and one quirk richer.”

“Wha- you mean that you’ve manifested your quirk? That’s impossible!” The doctor seemed astonished, gaping openly as Izuku sat himself more upright on the hospital bed.

“I am quite sure I have, doctor. My mom and Kacchan here can vouch for me.” Both people nodded silently, more than a little shocked.

“Midoriya-kun, I don’t know if you’re aware, but there have been many studies done on the relation between quirks and physiological changes from the baseline human form, and in every single case of quirkle-”

“Ah, yes, the double pinky joint. I must say, I have no idea where that idea came from, as it’s patently ludicrous.” Izuku waved his hand, lifting the same vase he had earlier “I believe this should be sufficient proof of my claims? However, this is not the extent of my quirk.”

I-uh, yes, why don’t I bring in our resident quirk expert, Doctor Tsubasa. He can help with quirk registration.”

Doctor Sato immediately fled the room, leaving the three occupants in silence.

Katsuki looked at Izuku with an almost unreadable expression, his brows furrowed. Well, if Izuku wanted to read it, he could simply peer into Kacchan’s mind, but that was terribly rude. Eventually, he spoke up, in a voice so small and unsure that Izuku barely recognized his loud, brash friend.

“So, you really are some kinda bazillion year old space god?” to which Izuku scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“For the last time, I wasn’t a god, and that wasn’t really me. I’m me, but I’m also him. I’ve got all his memories, and I know that if I had lived his life, I’d be just like him, but I haven’t. I’ve lived this one.”

“So we can still be friends?” Katsuki said, his voice so full of hope and fear that it broke Izuku’s heart.

“Of course Kacchan! Nothing would stop me from being your friend! Well, unless you didn’t want to be my friend, and even then I’d still probably try to be your friend, because you’re the coolest, and I-” 

Izuku was cut off as Katsuki flung himself at him in tears, wrapping him in as tight of a hug as his five-year old arms could manage.

“I’m so sorry ‘Zu, I thought that I hurt you, and you wouldn’t wake up, and then when you did you were talking about all this stuff, and I was so afraid , because why would someone as awesome as you hang around with a loser like me when you’ve got such a cool quirk, and I don’t want to lose you as my friend, and I promise I’ll never hurt you aga-”

Now it was Izuku’s turn to cut Katsuki off as he burst into tears, squeezing him back and silencing the blonde’s apologies. As they held each other and cried, Izuku used his new-found power to gently impress upon Katsuki’s mind just how much he wanted him as a friend, and how little Izuku wanted his apologies. 

Soon enough, the two boys had cried all the tears they had, and remained slumped against each other on the hospital bed. 

“Y'know ‘Zu, that mind thing you did was weird.” Katsuki said as he grabbed Izuku’s hand.

“Yeah. It was weird when the Emperor did it to me, too, but he did it with a lot more info.” Izuku replied, giving Katsuki’s hand a brief squeeze.

Meanwhile, Inko watched it all in knowing silence, perhaps slipping a picture or two to show Mitsuki and Masaru when they dropped Katsuki off tomorrow evening.

However, the quiet, domestic scene couldn’t last forever, and soon enough the door slid open, causing Katsuki to jump off the bed and back into his chair as if burned, while a short, bald man with a bald head and large goggles appeared.

“Hello Midoriya-kun, Doctor Sato tells me you’ve manifested your quirk!” immediately, Izuku was suspicious of the doctor. His psychic reading of the man gave off an eerie vibe, an oozing, malevolent darkness that belonged more to a devotee of Tzeentch than a small-practice doctor.

“Yes,” Mom answered, oblivious to the man’s suspicious nature. “It appears to be some kind of telepathy and telekinesis.” 

The doctor’s eyes immediately took on a strange glint. “Oh my, a dual-aspect quirk? Those are awfully rare…” The doctor jotted a few notes on his clipboard, then turned to Izuku. “Alright young man, we’re going to do some testing to establish just what your quirk can do, but first, it needs a name. Anything in particular? Remember, you can always change it down the road.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Izuku nodded. “I know what I want my quirk to be called. I think I’ll name it…

Steward”

Chapter Text

After the naming came the ordinary barrage of questions to gauge what exactly Izuku already knew about his quirk. Of course, He couldn’t tell the doctor everything about his quirk, even if he didn’t have an air of malice and conniving about him that would almost remind him of a follower of Tzeentch if Izuku didn’t know better. After all, telling a doctor you’re the reincarnation of a 50,000-year-old demigod is usually a one-way ticket to a padded room.

In the end, Steward was defined as a mental/telepathic dual emitter quirk that allowed Izuku to move things with his mind, and probe the minds of those around him for information. Of course, Izuku vastly undersold his capabilities in all of those departments, but judging by the look bordering on hunger on the doctor’s face, Izuku may still have drawn too much attention.

After that, the visit was over fairly shortly, and before the sun had even set the Midoriyas and Katsuki were headed home, with a promise to come back next week for a check-up. Izuku soon found out that Katsuki had stayed with Mom for the entire duration of Izuku’s hospital stay, sleeping in Izuku’s bed. In all honesty, Izuku found it endearing.

The next week passed fairly mundanely, with the kids at school all oohing and aahing at Izuku’s powerful new quirk, constantly asking him to pick up things with his mind or pull the number they were thinking of from their heads. Izuku obliged them all with a tired smile, before turning to Kacchan with a look that said ‘what can you do?’

That was another thing that had changed. Before the accident that led to Izuku’s quirk manifesting, Katsuki had been starting to show the first signs of his mother’s temper, red-hot and ready at a moment’s notice. However, Katsuki’s quirk seemed to make his mood swings drastically worse, and in the past few months he had become increasingly aggressive with the other kids.

Now however, he was almost docile compared to before. He still yelled and made threats, but they lacked their previous heat, and were never directed at Izuku, nor anyone that didn’t deserve them.

However, before long, the week had passed and they were headed back to the quirk specialist, in his office in a tucked-away corner of Jakku general hospital. After a few minutes in a waiting room, they were led back by the portly doctor, who sat in a chair and gave a deep sigh before beginning:

“Hello, Midoriyas ! How have you been over the past week?” the doctor’s face suddenly took on a more keen interest “Any new developments with Izuku’s quirk?”

“Well, not really. It seems to be exactly what we marked down.” Izuku’s mom answered.

“That’s excellent. It’s always good when a quirk comes in smoothly. However, just to be sure, I called in a friend of mine, an even greater expert on quirks than I am! His quirk will allow him to accurately gauge just what Izuku is capable of!” From the way the doctor spoke, Izuku was fairly sure that was a lie. This ‘friend’ was sure to be nothing but trouble.

“Oh, alright. Where is he?” Izuku’s mother asked

“He’s waiting in the next room over, I wanted to speak to you before we began.”

At that, Izuku and his mom began to get up, until the doctor interjected

“Ah, actually Ms. Midoriya, I’ll need you to stay here. My friend’s quirk can’t give accurate readings with two people in the room.” Well, that wasn’t at all suspicious.

The doctor shooed Izuku into the next room, and closed the door behind him. At first, Izuku didn’t see anything, but then, all of a sudden, the man made his presence known, and Izuku was instantly sickened.

The man before him reeked of the stench of Chaos, the foul not-smell dripping off of him like slick oil and pooling in Izuku’s mind. In his past life as the Emperor, Izuku had only felt the aura of Tzeentch a handful of times, and yet now it was as if he was face-to-face with the changer of ways once again, albeit in a much smaller concentration.

The man before him was an impossibility. There was no Chaos in this world. As far as Izuku could tell, that could be attributed to the fact that the ancient War In Heaven had never occurred, leaving the immaterium untainted by the agonizing deaths of so many. Seemingly unaware of Izuku’s internal panic, the man began to speak.

“Hello Izuku. I am Doctor Tsubasa’s friend, the quirk specialist.” the man said, the honeyed tone of a persuasion quirk coloring his voice. Immediately, Izuku’s mind was whirring with the possibilities. Interesting. He’s shown clear signs of several quirks. I wonder what quirk could be so broad as to encompass all these effects?

“We both know that’s a lie.” Izuku said, allowing a bit of his psychic presence to bleed through his carefully constructed mental walls.

The stranger seemed to take note of Izuku’s increased psychic footprint, then continued, completely dropping the pleasant facade, a sharp intimidation quirk falling into the place of the persuasion. The man drew himself up to his full height, and spoke in a voice much too close to that of his sons after their descent into Chaos. “Very well. The truth, then. My name is All For One. I am a villain, one who has the power to take quirks, and I’m here to take yours.”

Chapter Text

For a moment, All For One’s aura seemed to choke out the light in the room, or perhaps it was one of his many quirks doing the deed. Under any normal circumstance, with any normal person, his matter-of-fact declaration of his nefarious intentions combined with his malevolent aura would have brought them to their knees.

“Now, don’t scream little one… Wouldn’t want Mommy out there to get hurt now, would we?”

However, Izuku was no ordinary man. He was the Steward of Mankind. So when All For One drew his malevolent cloak of psychic energy around him like an old, cheesy vampire, all Izuku could do was break out in laughter.

He laughed and laughed, his laughter only fueled further by All For One’s frustration at not being taken seriously.

“You insolent child!” As he spoke, he crossed the room in a flash, and laid his palm on Izuku’s head. However, his expression of haughty superiority quickly changed to shock and surprise when his quirk came up empty. However, this simply made Izuku laugh harder, collapsing onto the floor.

After a period of a minute or so, in which All For One alternated between staring at his right hand and Izuku in shock, Izuku took a few shuddering breaths, got to his feet, and began speaking:

“You know, even if it is only a quirk, you mask your true psychic power well.” Izuku brushed off his clothes from having writhed on the floor in laughter, then continued “However, you seem to have made one fatal error.” Izuku fixed All For One with his stare, the one that had cowed armies in another world, the stare that had brought entire worlds in line. It was the Emperor’s stare, and it sent an emotion through All For One that he had not felt for a great many years: he felt fear. “You forgot that others can do the same thing.”

With that, Izuku let the airtight lid on his true psychic presence loose. Normally, he kept a blanket over his power, so as not to give migraines to any mental quirk user in a 100 kilometer radius, however faced with this villain, he let it all loose. All 52,000 years of psychic might, focused on All For One like the baleful eye of an angry god. All For One sank to his knees, his eyes going slack at the raw mental power before him.

“It would seem that you don’t quite know who you’ve decided to mess with.” Izuku slowly walked to All For One, placing his palm on the man’s forehead in a mockery of what All For One had tried to do to take Izuku’s power. “Let me show you”

And Izuku showed him. In a way that only telepathy can provide, Izuku showed All For One exactly who he was, and just how much of a bad idea it was to threaten his mother, and attempt to take a power that defined power itself.

Izuku left the room with All For One laying in the fetal position, whimpering gibberish to himself. If the mental strain didn’t kill him within the hour, at the very least it would render him too mentally unstable to be much of a threat moving forward. In another life, Izuku might have simply melted his mind out through his ears, or summoned a weapon from the warp to finish him off, but in this life, Izuku wanted to move past such violence.

However, his mother and the doctor weren’t expecting him for another fifteen minutes or so, so Izuku amused himself by sifting through All For One’s memories, especially things that All For One had learned or done in his unnaturally long life.

So, he left the room, pulling the door closed with telekinesis while looking the doctor dead in the eyes, to let him know that his master hadn’t gotten what he came for.

“Thank you for introducing me to your friend, he was really cool!” Izuku said, lacing his voice with just enough malice to let the man know that he understood his game. “But, his quirk didn’t quite work on mine. We figured it out together, though.”

“W-well, Young M-Midoriya, I’m glad to hear that.” The doctor looked downright frightened as he glanced at the door behind Izuku, his mind screaming at him to go help his master like the loyal dog he was.

“Well, thank you, Doctor Tsubasa, I’m so glad you could make the time to see us, and thank you for bringing your friend out too!” Izuku’s mother said, smiling brightly, though she too picked up on Izuku’s tone and shot him a look that said ‘we’ll be discussing this later’

“Yes, thank you so much Doctor Garaki.” Izuku’s use of the Doctor’s true name was a calculated ploy to throw the Doctor off-kilter, and by the full-body flinch its’ use elicited, the ploy was successful.

With that, Izuku and his mother left the hospital, proceeding out to their car, where Inko turned around in her seat to look at Izuku.

“So, you wanna tell me what that was about?” despite her harmless appearance, Inko Midoriya had a backbone of steel, and in moments like this, when the safety of her son might be on the line, it shone through like the North Star.

“Well, a nearly immortal supervillain that can steal quirks tried to intimidate me and steal my quirk, but as we both know, I don’t have a quirk in the traditional sense, so his quirk didn’t do anything to me. Also, Doctor Tsubasa is one of his lackeys, and his name isn’t Tsubasa, It’s Garaki.” To Inko’s credit, she didn’t immediately call Izuku insane. After all, Izuku had explained just about everything about his life as the Emperor to Inko, (omitting the admittedly horrible parenting choices and mass genocides, of course.) she had more-or-less accepted that her son wasn’t going to lead a normal life, and this new supervillain was just the latest in a long line of developments in that regard.

“Well, what happened to the supervillain? Did you take care of him, or should we call the police?” Normally, Inko would be freaking out, but after a few telepathic show-and-tells, where Izuku explained to her just how powerful he was, she was decidedly less concerned for the safety of her son, and more concerned for any poor bastard that got in his way.

“No police. I did a psychic overload thing, it should have him either dead or institutionalized within the hour.” With this, Inko nodded, turned back to the wheel, and started the car.

“Well, since you’ve had such an eventful day, how does katsudon sound for dinner?”
Izuku voiced his agreement loudly as the car began rolling, unaware that he had just made what might have been the biggest mistake of his second life.

Chapter Text

As the years ran by, Izuku watched it all, assessing the work that lay ahead of him as this world’s steward. In a way, this world was incredibly similar to his original home in the period immediately following the Age Of Strife, when psychic powers had first begun appearing, and warp storms cut all interstellar communications, leaving humanity in the dark for roughly five thousand years. 

While the situation on this earth wasn’t quite so dire, the appearance of quirks had stagnated technological development by centuries, and this humanity was nowhere near ready to begin true colonization of other worlds. 

On top of this, the appearance of quirks created yet another division amongst the human race that it sorely did not need. Humans were already preoccupied worrying about their skin color, but when you add superpowers and mutations into the mix? Absolute pandemonium. In his last life, the Emperor had simply united humanity against a common enemy, the Xenos. However, given the distinct lack of aliens and/or space technology, (Though that would all come in time.) Izuku would have to do the hard work of changing hearts and minds, not the simple stopgap measures he had employed previously. 

A prime example of this discrimination was the school that Izuku attended, Aldera Middle School. Within those walls, those with quirks that the teachers deemed “weak” or “villainous” were singled out, viciously ridiculed for daring to dream that they could be anything more than what their quirks defined them as, while those with “useful” or “heroic” quirks were told day in and day out that they could do nothing wrong, that they were superior to their peers simply due to the circumstances of their birth. 

Despite all that Izuku did to try and combat that attitude, the only person he managed to truly sway was Katsuki. However, this was no surprise. Over the ten years since the manifestation of Izuku’s not-quirk, Izuku and Katsuki had become near-inseparable, even becoming romantically entangled in the summer in-between their last year of elementary and first year of middle school. 

Since then they had become especially close, almost never leaving the others’ side. They trained together, ate together, laughed together, and slept together (though not in the way some might think). The two were as close as two people could be, and they were both better for it. Izuku gained a loyal friend, and someone to help him curb his more vicious tendencies gained since coming into his power and memories. Katsuki, on the other hand, gained not only a loyal friend, and an overwhelmingly powerful ally, but a much-needed humbling. Before Izuku had gotten his power, Katsuki had been starting to let the constant praise of their teachers get to his head. He had become more violent and domineering, treating the children with ‘weak’ quirks as though they were inferior to him. However, once Izuku gained his power, and told his mother and Katsuki who he was and what he was capable of, Katsuki was forced to confront the fact that his friend was leagues more powerful than he was, or would ever be. However, instead of ruining him, that knowledge fueled him, giving him an endless source of motivation to try and come as close to Izuku’s power as he could.

And so it was, for three years. Izuku and Katsuki went through middle school hand in hand, receiving and rejecting praise as those with the strongest quirks around.

On one particular day, Izuku and Katsuki decided to take the long way home. The teacher had decided to talk about high school entrance exams that day, and several of the kids in the class had tried to mock a kid with a fairly mundane hair manipulation quirk for trying out for the support course at one of the smaller heroics schools in the area, despite Izuku and Katsuki telling them in no uncertain terms what would happen if they did. Unfortunately, those who enforced the status quo had the teachers firmly in their corner, and so Itou-sensei had stopped the two boys from interfering.

So, to clear their minds, they decided to take a longer route home than usual, to savor the air and the city. However, it was simply not meant to last. As they walked in the shadow of a footbridge, a viscous green slime came surging from the sewers and tried to engulf Katsuki.

“Hey, would you look at that! A medium sized skinsuit!” The sludge-man said. “Don’t worry, little green guy, I’ll deal with you right after I’m done suffocating your friend here.” 

Normally, Izuku would have trusted Katsuki to get out of the situation himself. After all, they had been training for nearly ten years, and Katsuki was a very capable combatant. However, Izuku was already in the mood to fight, due to the idiocy of his teachers and his peers, but this was not the thing that set his fury alight. 

That was the look in Katsuki’s eyes. 

They were blown wide with terror, locked onto Izuku’s viridian irises and begging for help. 

And so Izuku obliged.

“ Put. Him. Down.” said Izuku, allowing his psychic power to bleed into his words, and letting his eyes glow gold with pure energy. “ I will only give you this one chance.”

“Oh yeah, and who’s gonna stop me, you? You’re just a fuckin’ kid! Don’t make me laugh.” However, the villain’s brave words didn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice as his mind began to feel the psychic pressure of Izuku’s rage. The Emperor’s Rage.

“ Very well. I didn’t want to have to do this in front of Kacchan, but it seems that I have no choice. ” With that, he turned his eyes towards Katsuki, injecting as much calm and love into his tone as possible “ This will all be okay Kacchan. Could you close your eyes for me? You don’t want to see the next part.”

Despite his fear, Katsuki complied, and that gave Izuku free reign to deal with the villain.

In an instant, he boiled away all the water in the sludge that made up the man’s body, leaving him only a terrified pair of eyeballs, and a loose jumble of teeth. Izuku then proceeded to pour psychic energy into his mind at a rate that would kill even the most talented of psykers in his last life. This caused the eyeballs to smoke, eventually catching fire and burning away to nothing but a pair of greasy smudges on the pavement.

“It’s okay, Kacchan, I’m here now.” Izuku immediately ran to Katsuki, catching him as he fell, and cradling the taller boy in his arms, stroking his hair gently and whispering calming platitudes into his ear.

“-zu, zu, I can’t- I can’t.”

“Shhh, it’s okay Katsuki, match my breathing, come on.” Izuku placed Katski’s hand on his chest, and exaggerated his breath, allowing Katsuki to use it as a template to slow his own. 

After several agonizing minutes, Katsuki was mostly free from the grips of his panic attack, and the two boys were ready to begin heading home.

Once again, however, the universe had other plans.

Right before them, a sewer grate burst open, and a man nearly seven feet tall leaped from it, dressed in a white shirt and green pants. His face was one the two recognized, indeed, idolized. As a matter of fact, Izuku had built his idea of a “Symbol Of Hope”, on this man’s titanic example.

“ALL MIGHT?” the two boy’s screamed, and Katsuki promptly passed out.

Chapter Text

It took the two boys several minutes to calm down from All Might appearing in front of them, not helped at all by All Might going into a panic when Katsuki fainted. Despite being the number 1 hero, he apparently had a very weak stomach. 

However, soon enough, everyone was calm again, and All Might began to speak.

“Now, young men! Did you happen to see a large slime-man around here?” At the mention of the villain, Katsuki tensed, and Izuku held him close, stroking his hair as he replied.

“Yes. Over there is what’s left of him.” Izuku gestured to the two greasy stains and small pile of teeth on the pavement with his chin.

“Wha- Young man, do you mean to tell me you- that you-” All Might seemed stuck on the words, like a broken record.

“Killed him? Yes. He wanted to kill Kacchan and use him as some sort of gruesome puppet, and I refused to allow that. I gave him the chance to surrender peacefully, but he refused my offer.” At this, Katsuki once again paled, not at Izuku’s actions, as he was quite used to that, but at the thought of his near-demise.

All Might seemed horrified. “Young man, these are very serious claims…” his expression darkened, hinting at the more intimidating side of the Symbol of Peace. However, just then, his face twitched microscopically, so minutely that had Izuku not been a prodigy at reading faces, and a gifted psychic, he would not have caught. All Might was in pain. From his mental state, debilitating, crippling pain. Pain that, over time, would or already had weakened him to a fraction of a fraction of his former strength. 

All Might had a weakness, and that terrified Izuku. Despite all the power he possessed, he still looked up to All Might, as the example of what a hero should be, and to learn that even his hero had a weakness struck fear into his heart, playing into insecurities from his last life, doubts seeded by the fall of an empire. 

Immediately, Izuku was consumed by a desire to know . To know just what was causing All Might such terrible agony, so that he might fix it. And so he probed. He sent his mental tendrils into All Might’s psyche, and was immediately forced back, by the mental force of several people. 

As he did so, both All Might and Izuku collapsed onto the ground in terrible pain, clutching at their heads. Izuku grabbed onto Katsuki for comfort, while All Might simply writhed. After a moment, All Might stood, his eyes practically glowing with fury. In an instant, he grabbed Izuku, not even noticing his iron grip around Katsuki, and jumped. 

Immediately, Izuku’s grip turned from iron to adamantium, terrified that he might let Katsuki fall. When they landed on the roof, All Might wheeled on them, ready to accuse Izuku of being a villain, but before he could get a word in, the five-foot-nothing teenager was in his face, radiating an aura of contempt and disgust so powerful that even All For One would have recoiled. (little did All Might know, he had paled under such an aura just ten years previously.) 

“What in the HELL were you thinking! You just grabbed two TEENAGERS, one of whom is OBVIOUSLY in shock, and leapt upwards at a speed that EXCEEDINGLY few people could have sustained. You are DAMNED lucky that I’m a little more than human, or else I’d be scraping Kacchan off the pavement, and your friends would be scraping you into your casket.” Izuku then stopped and took a moment to breathe. Then, just when All Might was about to say his piece, Izuku resumed. 

“AND ANOTHER THING! What the hell is up with your fucked up head! You’ve got at the LEAST seven people in there that aren’t you, and I’d like to fucking know why! Because the only way I know of that people end up with other people’s souls is something that I am very, very not fond of, and I tend to erase the things I’m not fond of from existence when I’m angry. So, Toshinori Yagi , start fucking talking, before I reduce your underdeveloped brain to soup.”

For a moment, All Might simply stared at Izuku in shock, before startling like he’d be tased.

“Young Man, how do you know my name?” All Might breathed, prompting an eye roll from Izuku

“It’s one of the only things I managed to dredge from your brain before your roommates kicked me out.”

“Are you telling me that there are other people in my brain?” All Might stared at Izuku incredulously, obviously doubting the truth of his statement.

“Yes. Yes I am, at least seven of them. You also have some sort of injury or weakness that is slowly killing you, and I’d like to fix that, if I can. Also, you can quit the muscle-y act. Kacchan practically worships you as a pillar of strength, and I’m not too stupid to know what you mean to society.”

Almost immediately, All-Might deflated in shock, subconsciously grabbing at his side as he stared, gaping, at the forest-haired menace before him. 

“Okay. On any other day, I’d be freaking out about this. However, today has been so emotionally exhausting, and I’m so panicked already, that I’ve wrapped right back around to calm.” Katsuki’s first statement since the whole ordeal began broke the tense silence between the hero and the former Emperor, causing Izuku to immediately rush to his boyfriend’s side, checking him over for any damages, and apologizing for getting him in the whole mess at a speed that would make lightning jealous. 

“Oi, nerd, I’m fine. Now, answer the damn question, All Might. What the fuck’s up with your emaciated ass?”

On any other day, Katsuki would be incapable of speaking like that about All Might, however, today was not any other day. All Might seemed to recognize that any further resistance would be met with violence, and from what he’d seen from Izuku, it might be an even fight. So, after a moment of consideration, All Might spoke.

“Very well. I will explain. About five years ago, at my monthly checkup with a doctor on I-Island, the medical staff noticed a tumor in my side. None of the doctors could find an explanation for it, and any attempts to remove it were met with extreme complications, almost as if it were sentient. In the years since, it has grown to become this.” All Might pulled up the hem of his shirt, revealing a pulsating, gnarled knot of flesh that seemed to cover his entire left side, colored a shiny, angry, red, like an old burn. “As the tumor grew, my power decreased, until the present. Now, I can only access my power for 3 hours a day before it starts to tear my body apart from the inside out. At first, I suspected an old enemy, but he disappeared about 5 years before, and to this day we haven’t found a trace of his continued existence.” 

“Could it have been your fight with Toxic Chainsaw?” Asked Katsuki, eyes wide and fixed on All Might’s side.

“Hm. You know your stuff. But no, he wouldn’t have near the right power to do something like this.”

“Alright, what about the other fuckers the nerd felt in your head?” Katsuki leaned forward as he spoke.

“No offense, but that is a secret I will take to the grave.” All Might said, his gaunt face taking on a serious tone.

Meanwhile, Izuku’s eyes had blown wide, and his hands were twitching slightly as he approached All Might step by halting step.

“All Might, allow me to…” as Izuku spoke, he laid a hand on the wound, despite All Might’s flinching and stuttering protests. After a moment, his face darkened. 

“Alright.”

“Alright? Alright what?” All Might responded, confused.

“I’ll fix your wounds, in exchange for you telling me what the fuck is up with your head, and then you and I are going to find out exactly where the fuck this came from.” At that, Katsuki placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, turning him slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Zu, what’s going on? Why are you so serious?” Katsuki’s brows were knitted in concern. Despite having once lived a life as a semi-immortal demigod, Izuku was usually fun-loving and carefree, a stark contrast to his current attitude.

“Because, Kacchan. That tumor has the single strongest aura of Chaos I’ve felt since coming to this world”

Chapter Text

The next week was a blur. The first problem in all of this was getting All Might to believe that Izuku could help him, which was actually rather difficult. You would think that the strongest hero alive would be a little more open-minded. However, after a (heavily edited) explanation of Izuku’s past as the Emperor, All Might was more on-board with the idea, though he still demanded any procedures or medications be run by his personal doctor, UA’s Recovery Girl. Additionally, the three from the rooftop (Izuku insisted Katsuki be included because otherwise he’d pout ) set up a schedule of meetings to go over any progress, however these sessions usually turned into All Might giving Katsuki pointers and tidbits of training. 

The next issue was getting his hands on the equipment necessary to help All Might. So, at their next meeting, Izuku brought up the issue.

“All Might, how good is your agency’s medical bay?” All Might seemed surprised at that question, but quickly recovered and moved forward.

“We have about the same level of sophistication as the best regional hospitals, though we don’t have any full-time doctors on-staff.” All Might grimaced with the memory of too many days in that medical bay, hacking up blood or simply groaning in pain as the tumor in his side ate away at him. 

“Well, that won’t be an issue. I’ll be performing the operation myself. Now, as long as you have a few basic tools and a proper operating theater, I can get the rest of what I need through warpcraft.”

“Warpcraft? What’s that?” All Might looked at him in confusion.

“I use the raw energy of the warp to manifest my thoughts into physical objects” Izuku said, obviously thinking that this world-changing power was barely of note.

“What the nerd means, in not-wizard talk, is that he can make stuff out of nothing” said Katsuki, wearing the same smug smile he always had when he was reminded of how cool his boyfriend was. 

“Not nothing, Kacchan, Mental energy. You can’t create something from nothing. All I do is convert energy into matter.” Izuku said, with the fond exasperation that spoke of a correction made many times.

“W-well then,” said All Might, once again questioning whether it was a good idea to let this mad genius with seemingly limitless power mess with his body. “I suppose we’re at the point where I should call Recovery Girl and set up a meeting between you two?”

“Oh, don’t think you’re getting out of it.” said Izuku, giving All Might a look, “Maybe if she and I gripe at you about looking after yourself at the same time, you’ll listen for once.”

All Might gave Izuku a bashful look. “Perhaps…”

It was another two weeks until Izuku and Recovery Girl were able to meet. After the initial shock of meeting someone who looked like a child, but whose medical knowledge dwarfed hers, she took quite a liking to Izuku, especially after she saw him smack All Might upside the head for pushing himself to do too much hero work. The two spoke for nearly three hours on All Might’s treatment, exactly what it would entail, and exactly what equipment Izuku would be using. Additionally, Recovery Girl loaned him an advanced surgical-grade robotic arm given to UA by a rich sponsor, though if Recovery Girl was to be believed, it was really an attempt to bribe the school board into fast-tracking their daughter’s admission later that year. 

So, with only three months left to go until the UA entrance exams, Izuku was ready to perform the surgery. The medical bay in Might Tower was prepped, with Izuku having either acquired or made all the tools he needed to remove a tumor inflicted by the warp. On a cold sunday morning, an armored sedan conveyed the five-foot-nothing boy to the VIP entrance of the biggest hero agency in Japan. Waiting inside was the four people most involved in this process. 

The first was Recovery Girl. Chiyo Shuuzenji was a wonderful hero, and a fantastic doctor. To be honest, she was probably Izuku’s favorite among All Might’s retinue. Next was Gran Torino, All Might’s mentor. Gran Sorahiko was one-part crotchety old man, one part sadistic prankster. However, he was fiercely protective of All Might, and, in fact, when informed about the operation, was demanding a meeting with Izuku within the hour, and even threatened Izuku several times. Perhaps it would have been more intimidating if Izuku couldn’t feel the desperate hope in the man’s mind. The next in the troupe of idiots was All Might himself, who was perhaps an even greater threat to himself than the tumor currently eating his stomach. Every day he would push himself past his body’s limit, allowing the warp-growth to gain a little more ground, and quite frankly Izuku was tired of slapping him for it. Finally, there was Izuku’s least favorite member of All Might’s merry band of morons: Sir Nighteye. Sasaki Mirai was a jackass. A real stick-in-the-mud douchebag who thought that just because he had a fairly powerful quirk that allowed him to gain the tiniest glimpses of the most likely future, he was an all-knowing oracle that could do no wrong. Needless to say, Izuku straightened that out real quick. 

In all honesty, Nighteye reminded Izuku too much of himself, before his 12,000 year interment on the Golden Throne, where he had nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, and he spent nearly every second of those twelve millennia thinking about what he could have done better. Nighteye, however, refused to see Izuku as anything more than the 14-year-old boy that he appeared to be, which was made all the more infuriating by the fact that if Izuku were to truly open up his psychic power on the asshole, it would likely kill him due to his highly mental quirk. So, for the time being, Izuku simply took Nighteye’s passive-aggressive barbs with grace, taking solace in the fact that he was being the better man by not letting this comparative child rile him up. 

However, when Izuku walked into the VIP lobby of Might tower on that gloomy Sunday, Nighteye was the picture of anxiety, pacing and checking his phone every three seconds. When he noticed Izuku, he rushed forward immediately, looking at Izuku with some kind of impotent rage that only made Izuku want to laugh in the pencil-necked fool’s face. 

“And just where were you? You scheduled the procedure for only an hour from now. You should have been here at least two hours ago to brief myself and the others-” Izuku cut Nighteye off with a noise and a wave.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t need a briefing. I’ve gone over the procedure with Shuuzenji and All Might previously, meaning that all need-to-know parties have the relevant information. I don’t need you and your commission ilk getting your grubby, disgusting little hands on my equipment.”

That was the other reason that Nighteye got on Izuku’s nerves so much. He was almost as much of a Hero Commission puppet as Hawks, and given that Izuku could see all the signs of a child soldier in the #3 hero, that was saying something. However, working with the man was apparently very important to All Might, as the two had been working together for most of All Might’s professional career.

With a huff, Nighteye stormed off, likely to report to his handlers at the HPSC that they wouldn’t be getting any of Izuku’s tech today.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready to heal the symbol of peace?”

Chapter Text

An hour later, Izuku and Recovery Girl stood in a soundproofed, windowless operating theater, with the best medical equipment money could buy, and the emaciated symbol of peace unconcious on the operating table.

“Alright Shuuzenji, I’m going to start by psychically probing the tumor, to get it to loosen its hold. I need you to get that ,” he said, pointing to one of the custom pieces of equipment he had warpcrafted for the procedure, “Onto the arm, and get ready to bring it down over the site.”

Izuku reached out with his senses, and immediately was hit by the mental stench of chaos. Until now, he had never allowed himself to dig too deeply into the parasitic tumor, for fear of aggravating it further and endangering All Might, but now, he was deep enough to feel the core of its power, and it was most concerning indeed. 

There were hints of the sickly-sweet, slimy nature that Nurgle’s power had, but also tones of the constantly shifting power of Tzeentch. There was the overwhelming sensation of Slaanesh, but also the all-consuming bloodthirst of Khorne. However, greater than all of these was a presence he had never felt before. A never-ending, all-consuming greed . A hunger that desired to possess and own everything it came in contact with, so desperate that it put the most deranged of Slaaneshi cultists to shame. 

However, the origins of the beast were a question for another time. For now, the only issue was getting the damned thing out of All Might’s stomach. After a moment, he could feel the tumor recoil at his mental presence, allowing him to gain the slightest bit of ground. 

“Alright Shuuzenji, this is the most dangerous part of this whole business. I need you to lower that device, and turn it on. I’m going to aid you telekinetically, but this is going to hurt All Might a great deal. He’s going to scream, and he’s going to be in pain that you could never imagine, but no matter what, you can. not. stop. If we stop, even for a moment, that tumor will dig its heels in and decide that it might as well take the host out with it, and All Might won’t make it through the night. Do you understand?”

At Recovery Girl’s nod of confirmation, the two began. Almost immediately, All Might began screaming in his sleep, his body only kept from thrashing by the thick restraints and quirk-suppressing cuffs currently enveloping him. The machine on the robotic arm began its work, slicing through the connective tissues that bound the tumor to the hero with microscopic lasers, while Izuku bombarded the strange almost-mind of the parasite with psychic power, keeping it distracted, and stopping it from trying to kill its host.  

It seemed like an eternity that they went on like this, locked in a battle of wills, while the machine cut away the tumor’s connections faster than it could regrow them. In reality, it was only about two hours, but just as time flies when you’re having fun, the opposite is also true. When the machine was nearly finished with its work, Izuku shifted the smallest bit of his attention to Recovery Girl and spoke:

“When the machine finishes, I’m going to lift this out, and place it in a stasis field for study. The stasis generator is that glass box over there, would you mind getting it?”

As Recovery Girl complied, the machine gave a series of beeping tones, indicating that it had finished its task. Izuku used his telekinesis to pull the tumor out of the hole, Recovery Girl moving in quickly to seal the wound and pack the crater in his side with gauze. Izuku deposited the rapidly pulsating thing into the portable stasis chamber he had made, and turned the device on, freezing the parasite in time and freeing up his mind. 

And so, naturally, he did what any sane person would do after fighting a two-hour mental war with a semi-sentient lump of pure evil. He passed out.

Several hours later, Izuku awoke, laid out on the most comfortable couch he had ever felt. Before he opened his eyes, he already knew that there were two people in the room with him. Unfortunately, he also knew that Nighteye was one of them. 

Fuck, I am really not in the mood for his bullshit right now.

However, he was not a coward, no matter what Kacchan said when they were heckling each other, so he opened his eyes and sat up, taking in the scene before him.

He was in the break room of Might Tower, with Sir Nighteye and Gran Torino staring at him like he was some sort of subject to examine. 

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Izuku asked, head still fuzzy from sleep.

“Yes, I believe you can. For the last seven hours, Recovery Girl has disallowed us from entering All Might’s room. According to her, this is upon your orders. I would like to know just who you think you are, that you can order around three professional heroes, when you have no prior experience, and for all we know, could very easily be a villain!”

“Mirai!” Gran Torino shouted, obviously embarrassed at Nighteye’s behavior.

“No, let him speak. Ever since we’ve met, he’s held some sort of grudge for me, and I’d like to know just what I’ve done to earn it.”

“What have you done to earn it?” Nighteye scoffed “What Haven’t you done to earn it?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to explain. I don’t quite know what you mean.”

“Oh, really? You, a fourteen-year-old boy, show up, out of nowhere, with a clear disregard for any authority, saying that you can heal All Might, through some miracle, when the best doctors in the world tried and failed? You refuse to let anyone vett your methods, and guard your secrets like a dragon’s hoard, while demanding that everyone else give up theirs? You’ve done nothing to earn my trust, and everything to earn my suspicion! And then you have the gall to act like I’m in the wrong for following the rules, and caring about my best friend! ”

Izuku stopped for a moment, thinking upon his and Nighteye’s actions up until that point. When viewed from this angle, his pencil-pushing, busybodied attitude spoke less of a Hero Commission dog who wanted control, and more of a concerned friend with strong opinions, and a mountain of frustration at being left out of the loop. Izuku, in a way, could understand that. 

“Very well. I see your point. Would it make you feel better if I answered some of your questions?”

“Much. I’d also like some oversight and second opinions on the things you’ve been doing.”

“That won’t be happening. I trust the Hero Commission about as far as I can spit, which, believe it or not, is not very far. However, I will answer your questions with full honesty. If you’d like, we could bring Detective Tsukauchi in to verify my statement? He is one of my favorites in All Might’s little tribe.”

“That won’t be necessary, and while I would still like you to have at least some accountability, I will take what I can get. From what Shuuzenji is saying, you’ve saved All Might’s life, and that has to be worth something.”

Throughout the whole exchange, Gran Torino had been looking back and forth between them, mouth agape in slight shock at both their barely-contained rudeness, and their seeming ability to reach a compromise. 

“I’m going to go check on Chiyo. You two… do whatever it is you need to do.” Gran Torino rushed out of the room, obviously fleeing the uncomfortable situation.

“Alright” said Izuku, “Ask away.”

“What did you do to All Might?” Nighteye said, eyes narrowing.

“I removed his tumor with a microscopic laser surgery tool, combined with a psychic attack on the tumor itself.”

“A psychic attack? I thought you had some form of creation quirk?” Nighteye said, his stress level spiking.

“Yes, I do. My quirk is… rather complicated.” Instantly, Izuku could tell that this was the wrong thing to say, as with a tap of a button, the entire room locked up, steel shutters covering every door and window, while Nighteye stood and prepared to attack.

“Do you have multiple quirks?” Izuku couldn’t quite see where Nighteye was going with all this, but it was obviously very important to him, so instead of laughing, Izuku schooled his expression and put just a smidge of psychic power behind his words to try and calm Nighteye.

“No. I only have one. And, if we’re really being honest, it’s not really a quirk.”

Nighteye scowled. “I don’t believe you. Have you ever heard the name All For One?”

Immediately, Izuku understood where he was going with this, and could no longer contain his laughter at the thought of a dimly-lit hospital room, and a villain who thought he could punch too far above his weight. 

“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.” Izuku managed to choke out in-between peals of laughter.

“What other way can there be?” Said Nighteye, obviously working himself into a fury. “You accepted a quirk from him, and he sent you here to gain our trust, kill All Might, and take One For All!”

Izuku’s laughter ceased, even though he wanted to keep laughing at Nighteye’s hilarious assumption. 

“No. That is not what happened. Roughly ten years ago, I encountered All For One. He attempted to steal my quirk, though due to its unique nature, there was nothing for him to steal. I then overloaded his mind with psychic feedback. If he isn’t dead, then he’s a fucking vegetable, rotting in a wheelchair and drooling on himself.”

“Wha- Preposterous! You’d have been four years old! All Might himself was unable to defeat All For One!” 

“I was five, for the record, but that doesn’t matter. You don’t believe me?”

“Of course not, no sane man would.”

“I can prove it to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt.” Nighteye looked skeptical at this “You are aware of the Psychic Honesty Theorem, yes?”

“The idea that no lie can be told in direct, non-linguistic mind-to-mind communication? Yes. I am.” 

“Good. I can show you, through a psychic link, everything you want to know and more. It will, in all honesty, give you the mother of all migraines, but you’ll know exactly who I am, how I came by my skills, and what my qualifications are to heal your friend, and relieve him of his nemesis.”

Nighteye looked at him with suspicion, regarding him closely for several seconds, with disbelief etched in every line on his skeletal face, until nodding once, sharply. 

“Very well. As long as Gran Torino is present.”

“Of course, just let him know not to attack me when we come out of the link, as you’ll be in a vast amount of pain, and it’s easy to mistake for an attack.” Nighteye nodded, retracted the security barrier over the door Gran left through, and left.

However, on his way out, Izuku couldn’t help but put his thumb on the hero. 

“As an aside, if you wanted to use your quirk to see what was going to happen, you could have told me. I wouldn’t have held it against you. No need to be sneaky about it.”

The immediate tension in Nighteye’s shoulders tells Izuku that he may have just lost a little trust with the man, but the look of shock on his face was one hundred percent worth it.

Chapter Text

Within ten minutes, with Nighteye apparently having looked through Gran Torino’s future eyes and seen nothing amiss, Izuku and Nighteye are ready. They sit across from one another, with a small glass coffee table between them. The two sat there, looking at each other with blank expressions until Nighteye finally broke the silence.

“So, how exactly is this going to work? Do we need to hold hands, or…”

“Nah. I could’ve done it the moment you sat down, but it’s much funnier to watch you squirm.” At that, Nighteye let a small huff of air out that may have passed for a laugh if the man was capable of showing emotions that weren’t vague annoyance or disappointment.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” Nighteye said, locking eyes with Izuku.

“Ok.” said Izuku, and the world exploded into color.

The swirling rainbow around Mirai became brighter and brighter, until he had to shut his eyes against the light, as an absolute cacophony of noise drowned out any thought in his mind. The noise rose in pitch and volume for what seemed like an instant and an eternity, until everything went silent.

Mirai opened his eyes to find an endless white void stretching out in every direction, seemingly infinitely. The only interruptions in pale expanse were two couches and a table, exact replicas of those found in the lounge that their physical bodies were in, Mirai himself, and Midoriya.

In this place, Izuku looked somehow different, and yet the same. He was much taller, standing eye-to-eye with Mirai, who was by no means a short man. His emerald hair, instead of curling every which way like an untamed bush, was long and straight, brushing his collarbones and framing his face quite nicely. He wore a fairly standard business suit, which would be completely unremarkable, save for the man wearing it. Oh, and his eyes were glowing gold.

Wait a minute… His eyes were glowing gold. And not in an “Oh, this is just a glow that comes from my eyes when I use my quirk” sort of way, no. Midoriya’s eyes were the glow. It was as if his body were merely a container for a vast, unknowable energy, and his eyes were the holes that allowed it to leak out. If only he knew how right he was.

“Well, this is new.” Said Midoriya, looking at himself and the void around him.

“Wait a moment,” Mirai said, a nervousness clawing within him “You mean to say this has never happened before?”

“Exactly!” said Midoriya, brightening. “I suspect it has something to do with the fact that you’ve got a mental quirk, but to be honest the ways that quirks and the warp interact are terribly understudied. So, this is the perfect learning opportunity!”

“How about you just show me what you wanted to, and we do your experiments not inside my brain, and not the very first time something like this has happened.”

At least Midoriya had the sense to look bashful at that, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him
“Oh. I suppose that could be a bit dangerous, couldn’t it?” However, in the next second, Midoriya was back on track.

“Ok, I’m going to warn you before we start. What you’re seeing in these images is me in another world. I am from an alternate… timeline? Dimension? Parallel universe? Gah, who knows, the warp is weird. The point is, I’m nearly 53,000 years old, and I’m from another world. You following me so far?”

The most concerning thing is that Mirai was following. It was almost as if, through their psychic link, Mirai could feel the truth in Midoriya’s words. In a way, it felt like what he’d always thought Tsukauchi’s quirk was like. It seems as though the Psychic Honesty Theorem was less of a theorem than was believed, at least with this instance.

“Good. Now, another warning. In that other world, I was not a good person. In fact, I was a downright monster for a lot of my life. But, as you’ll see… certain events gave me a bit of perspective on what’s important in life. Reminded me of my humanity.”

“And why would you tell me this if the point of this whole excursion is to convince me of your good intentions?” Asked Mirai, though he thought that he already knew the answer.

“Because if you saw the things I’ve done, you’d try to have me locked away in Tartarus by tomorrow morning. I want you to know that I’m a changed man, that I can combat the darkness of man because I used to be that darkness. In the end, I want to be a hero. A symbol, even. And I can’t do that If I have you and the Hero Commission breathing down my neck for crimes that this version of me would never commit.”

Well, Mirai could certainly understand that. One of the reasons that Mirai dealt with the commission in the first place was to run interference for Toshinori, to keep them from discovering All Might’s greatest secret.

“Very well. I will keep an open mind. After all, even the worst criminals can be reformed.” With that, a blinding smile lit up Midoriya’s face, looking severely out-of-place on his much larger body.

“Alrighty then,” Said Midoriya, with a devious grin “Let’s blow this popsicle train.”

Chapter Text

As Midoriya spoke, the scene changed, from an empty white void, to the endless reaches of space. With a wave of his hand, the scenery around them shifted, until Earth was before them, as if the two were in orbit.

“I was born in roughly the year 10,000 B.C. Through what means? I don’t really know, to be honest. I simply became aware one day, in the body of an infant, on the continent of Africa. For about the next 35 millennia, I sort of just vibed, interjected in world affairs from time to time.” As Midoriya spoke, images of a man across time appeared, wearing Egyptian battle-dress, Roman plate, Mongolian furs, and even the armor of a samurai of old. 

“I steered humanity from behind the scenes, herding them off of Terra and into the stars. By the 25th millennium, humanity had all but conquered the galaxy, with technology that this time could only ever dream of having.” At this, however, Midoriya’s face darkened. “If only it could have stayed that way.”

Suddenly, fire and storms spread across the surface of the fake earth below them, while thick clouds of noxious pink miasma boiled in the atmosphere, with black lightning flashing within.

“Then, the powers of Chaos became massively more powerful, due to outside circumstances I could not have predicted. This allowed the warp to bleed into realspace through a wound in the fabric of spacetime called the Eye of Terror. Warp storms cut off all human communication, and suddenly, humans with psychic abilities began appearing all over the galaxy, and humanity fell into an age of strife.”

Midoriya turned to Mirai with a proud look in his eyes, as he forged onwards with the story.

“Seeing this, I came out of the shadows, leaving my hidden fortress in the Himalayas mountains, and unified Terra under one banner. My banner. However, in doing so, I caused much death and destruction. I burned entire cities to the ground in one day, simply because I couldn’t be bothered to attempt diplomacy.” If possible, Midoriya’s face darkened even further.

“However, perhaps one of my greatest regrets of that time was the slaughter of the Thunder Warriors.” He turned to face Mirai, and continued. 

The scene around them changed. Instead of a world burning from thousands of miles away, they now stood in the aftermath of a massacre. Bodies easily bigger than All Might’s form were strewn about, missing chunks of flesh and bone, defenses still smoldering and weapons still laying where they fell from their wielders’ hands. In the distance, a ship could be seen flying away, likely carrying the perpetrators of the attack. Carrying Midoriya.

“They were my soldiers, loyal beyond measure, and powerful beyond reckoning, but dim-witted and difficult to control. I feared that they would one day rebel against me, and in the fragile state of my empire at that time, they may have succeeded. In my ego and impatience, I razed their cities and hunted them to the last man. There were a thousand things I could have done, a thousand ways I could have avoided all the pain and death, but I didn’t take any of them.”

Midori- No. This wasn’t Midoriya telling the story anymore, was it? This was the Emperor of Mankind. For the Emperor looked at Mirai with a weariness and knowledge that Midoriya never quite had. 

“Then, I made sons. I thought that perhaps sons would help me in establishing my empire, and would serve as my generals and conquerors until one day, one of them would take my place as Emperor.”

Mirai saw twenty men standing before him, the shortest easily eleven feet tall, all of them clad in beautiful armor, save two, who were blurry and indistinct, almost as if they were viewed through fogged glass. 

“However,” the Emperor continued, “Things are never so easy. One of the Ruinous Powers, ethereal beings of incredible power, scattered my sons, the Primarchs, across the galaxy. I set out at once to find them, though I will admit I also wished to add more worlds to my growing Imperium.” The Emperor’s face took on a melancholy sadness “In my zeal at finding my sons and adding their power to that of the greater Imperium, I forwent my duties as a father, and was indeed quite horrible to some of them.” 

At this. Mirai was rather surprised. The Emperor, a man who admittedly slaughtered thousands of his own soldiers out of paranoia, was genuinely guilty for mistreating his sons, who he seemed at the time to view as nothing more than tools? If Nighteye had any room to speak, he would call the Emperor a hypocrite.

“My son Mortarion was perhaps among the worst of my failures. He was sent to a world of poisonous toxins, where sorcerers ruled from mountain peaks, shrouded by clouds of toxic miasma.” As the Emperor spoke, the scene painted itself around them. Craggy black mountains jutting against a sickly-green sky, and one pale giant with a scythe attempting to climb the highest peak. “He was taken in by the worst of these sorcerers, who abused him terribly. When I found him, he agreed to leave that place with no hesitation, but only after his abuser was dead by his hand. However, in my impatience, I simply killed the man for him, dragging him along anyway.”

The scene once again shifted, this time to a battlefield. Soldiers in plate mail fired crossbows and threw spears into a crowd of assorted people who had only three things in common: Their ragged appearance, the metallic cornrows along their scalps, and the bloodlust pouring off of them as they tried and failed to hold the soldiers off.

“My son Angron was my greatest regret at this time. He was sold into slavery, on the planet he found himself on, and eventually staged a massive revolt. When I found him, he and his warriors were engaging in a last stand, and instead of coming down to aid them, i simply teleported him to my ship, leaving his found family to die, deaf to his pleas.”

“I must say,” Said Mirai “None of this is making me particularly fond of you, nor is it convincing me of your benevolence in the slightest.”

With that, the Emperor gave a said smile.

“That’s where the next part comes in. After three thousand years, I had collected all of my sons, and nearly a billion worlds were under my control. And yet the Ruinous Powers had other plans.”

Another battlefield appeared before them, this time with scores of hulking goliaths taller than All Might in armor like small vehicles, firing deafening guns as massive, skyscraper-sized robots roamed and turned entire squads to ash with one shot. 

“The Ruinous Powers used my mistreatment of my sons to seduce half of them to the side of Chaos, plunging the galaxy into a five-year war that cost nearly five trillion lives in total.” Mirai stilled at this. How could anyone be redeemed from this? Mirai was a terrible person, yes, but he would never… or would he- 

Mirai had no time to finish that line of thought as the Emperor plowed onwards, almost as if stopping would rob him of his ability to continue.

“In the end, I was forced to kill one of my children. That alone nearly broke me, as he was just the fourth of my sons to die in that war. However, That was not all the penance I paid for my crimes against humanity and my children. Due to the wounds I received, I was entombed on a golden throne, kept alive by machines and willpower, in constant pain that defied pain itself. And there I remained for twelve thousand years, until the servants of Chaos finally did what they set out to do all those years ago, and brought my empire to the ground.”

Mirai was stunned. Twelve thousand years ? Well, I suppose he had a lot of time for self-reflection.

“Tell me, Sir Nighteye, what is on your mind?” Said Midoriya, his eyes regaining the spark of youth that separated him from his past self.

“I-I want to rage. To call you a monster, and tell you to leave my friend alone…”

“But?...”

“I cannot tell myself truthfully that I would have done anything differently, were I in your place.”

“Ah. I see. The Black Card is weighing heavy in your pocket.”

“I’m going to ignore how you know about that, and simply answer “yes”.” 

“You’d be surprised how weak Hero Commission security is for the files on their dirty little secrets, especially their favorite hidden blade.”

“I don’t do that any more.” Mirai said, glaring at Midoriya.

“I know, and I don’t do the things that I’ve done anymore. So, are you satisfied?”

After a long moment of thinking, Mirai responded.

“I think so. Take us back, please. I’d like to check on Toshinori”

At that, Midoriya gave Mirai the most genuine smile he ever had before responding ‘With pleasure. Your mind feels like an itchy sweater.”

Chapter Text

After All Might’s surgery, the next weeks passed like a flash. Gran Torino left the second All Might was in the clear, like the goddamn parental tsundere he was. Nighteye stayed around, a near-constant fixture at All Might’s bedside when he didn’t absolutely have  to be at his agency.

As for the big blond idiot himself, he was making a remarkable recovery. Within a month, he was able to walk around his hospital room unaided, and even keep down solid foods in healthy proportions.

“Now, All Might” said Izuku, looking up from a warp-crafted data-slate which held All Might’s information. “In any normal surgery of this magnitude, I would be expecting a recovery time of at least eight months, and up to two years. However, because apparently even your very cells live and breathe Plus Ultra, you are on course to recover in under two. “

“So I’ll still be able to teach at U.A. this coming year?” said the number one hero, a light sparking in his sunken eyes. 

“Yes. And if you’re careful, and don’t push yourself too hard, you’ll be able to leave your time limits behind by the time the Sports festival rolls around” Izuku couldn’t help but give a smug smile at that. While he didn’t often allow himself to gloat in his genius, saving the Number One hero seemed an acceptable opportunity. 

“Now… On to other matters” said Izuku, dying to get to the bottom of the question that had been plaguing him since that day on the rooftop. “When we entered into all this, you said you’d explain the other souls within you.” At this, Nighteye looked startled, especially since, after their little psychic conversation, Nighteye knew exactly what the implications of several souls in one being were. 

“Ah… Well… You see, young Midoriya, that’s a closely guarded secret. As a matter of fact, there are several who have died holding it.” All Might’s face took on an almost uncharacteristic graveness.

“I kept the existence of a nightmare torture dimension and literal gods secret from an entire empire. Trust me, I know a thing or two about secrets.” Izuku said, earning a covered snort from Nighteye.

“Well… Ignoring the concerning implications of that statement…” All Might paused, looking for the words “I did some thinking, after that day on the roof. And I think I may know what the cause of these extra souls are. You see, my quirk is not originally my own. It was given to me by my mentor, who was given it by hers, and on back to the very dawn of quirks, growing in power as time and generations passed.”

At once, Izuku’s mind was whirring. A transferable quirk? One that built upon the strength of those who came before? Almost as if storing away their… Oh… Oh indeed.

“And you think that this quirk has stored the souls of all the previous users within it, along with their strength?” Izuku was nearly certain of this, but needed All Might to confirm it nonetheless.

“Yes. That is the gist of it.” All Might almost deflated, relieved that Izuku simply believed him, and he didn’t have to convince him of the truth.

“Hmm. All Might, do you mind if I take a few samples for study? This may be the linchpin in a program I’ve been working on.”

After a moment of consideration, All Might nodded. “ My boy, you’ve saved my life, and my career as the symbol of peace. The least I can do is help further your research. And on that note, please, call me Yagi. It feels strange to have the man who dug a tumor out of my gut only refer to me by my hero name.”

Izuku Immediately set to work, collecting blood samples, hair follicles, a cheek swab, and even a couple of brain scans for good measure. Only when he was finished, did a thought occur to Izuku.

“Hey, All Mi- er, Yagi?” 

“Yes, my boy?” the symbol of peace replied.

“Does your power have something to do with that All For One fellow? I know that Nighteye told you about my involvement with him, but the similarities between your quirks are shocking. If not, it would be an incredible example of Oppositional Quirk Theory, but on the other hand, I absolutely feel like there’s a history between the two of you.”

“Well spotted, young Midoriya. As a matter of fact, there is a connection. My quirk is known as One For All, and until now, its sole purpose was the removal of All For One from the world.” After a pause to let his words sink in, Yagi continued “At the dawn of quirks, there were two brothers…”

One expositional monologue later, and Izuku’s head was spinning . A stockpiling quirk with a genetic transfer element? Oh, this was going to be fun. But first, he had to find the right people…

Just then, his data-slate beeped with a notification of an incoming call. There was no caller I.D., and not even a proper number. Just a notification. 

So of course Izuku answered it.

“Hello, Izuku Midoriya speaking, who are you, and what do you want from me?”

“Oh, my. So straight to the point. Well, I suppose I can respect that. As for what I want, that is simple. I would like to talk to you. As of now, you have come into contact with two of my employees, and they have told… Most interesting stories about you. As for who I am? Am I a rat, a bear, a dog, perhaps? Who knows. But one thing is for certain…

You may call me Nedzu”

Chapter Text

“Ah, Nedzu. I had wondered when I’d get a call from you.” Izuku said, taking the situation in stride to try and throw the hyper intelligent rodent off-kilter.

“Yes, I suppose you would, wouldn’t you.” Said Nedzu, voice filled with mirth

“So, should I expect an offer of a meeting now? U.A.? Your office, 2:30 Thursday?” Izuku said, reaching across the city to pluck the information from Nedzu’s mind, careful not to alert the principal of his meddling.

“Why yes, I suppose that would be in order, wouldn’t it?” Nedzu said, taking the apparent mind-reading in stride. 

“Very well, I’ll see you then, Mr. Principal.”

“Ta-ta!”

Izuku hung up, and turned to see Yagi and Nighteye staring at him in shock. Yagi reached a hand out, grabbing at Nighteye’s sleeve and giving it a tug, as if to make sure the emo scarecrow was real. 

“Mirai, did you see that too?”

“Yes, Toshinori I did, and I did not like it one bit.”

Izuku was confused. What were they talking about? They were looking at him like he’d grown a second head, and while that was theoretically within his capabilities… Focus, damnit.

“Midoriya, did you just outplay Nedzu ?” Asked Nighteye.

“Oh, no, we just had a conversation. You see, he called at an unexpected time, revealing he already knew who I was, attempting to throw me off kilter, so I countered by telling him that I was expecting his call, which I sort of was, but not quite so soon, I figured I had about a month before he caught wind of me, but I guess Shuuzenji blabbed earlier than I predicted she would. In any case, then, He responded with a dual statement, which would work if I was serious or bluffing, and the-” Suddenly, Nighteye cut him off, even paler than before

“You’re telling me you just had a verbal fencing match with the smartest creature in Japan ?”

“Yes?” 

The looks that crossed the faces of perhaps Japan’s most known heroes was one of abject despair. 

“I need a stiff drink,” said Nighteye, resting his head in his hand.

“And I need a nap.” Said Yagi, letting himself fall back on his hospital bed. 

Suddenly, Izuku was reminded of a distant past, where he was in a position close to this. Pinnacle of humanity, with a shadow aide to help him rule. Now that Izuku thought about it, Nighteye was nearly the spitting image of Malcador in his younger years, before the stress of uniting humanity had taken its toll. 

God, I miss Malcador, Izuku thought. Just one more in a long list of regrets, I suppose.  

The appointed meeting with Nedzu came quickly, such appointments always seemed to. 

Staring up at UA’s glass towers, he was reminded irrationally of the Golden Palace, despite being 5000 kilometers, 28,000 years, and a dimension away. 

He strode towards the front gate, where the infamous UA barrier lay concealed under the pavement and the massive wall. It was a good wall, to be fair. Rogal and Perturabo would have loved it. 

Standing at the entrance was a man who looked about three seconds and one good cup of coffee away from death, wearing all black and a massive scarf in the middle of the summer like some kind of fucking goth hobo, slouching in a way Izuku recognized. It was a practiced slouch, one that was carefully crafted to give off a slothful impression, while also providing maximum maneuverability.

So, Izuku thought, A hero, then.

Izuku pinpointed the exact moment when the hero noticed his presence, though most would be clueless. The only outward clues were a twitch of his pupils and a narrowing of his eyes by a fraction of a millimeter. However, Izuku was not most people. 

“Go away kid, nobody’s gonna give you an autograph.” Said the Goth Hobo Man

“On the contrary, Mr. ‘My favorite color is black because it’s dark like my soul.'' I think Nedzu would be quite happy to give me one once we’ve finished our meeting.” And if Izuku put a little psychic weight behind the words, just to mess with the rude bastard, well, no one had to know, did they?

“ You have a meeting with Nedzu ? Yeah right, shrimp, and I’m All Might in disguise. Pound bricks.” The grungy bastard said, with all the confident superiority that came from being twice someone’s age. 

Unfortunately, the same principle applied to Izuku, and he was about 17 thousand times Demented Homeless Emo’s age

“Midoriya Izuku, 8:30 appointment, and I would watch your tone, Aizawa Shouta . It’s unbecoming of a teacher to demean his future students.” Izuku said, upping the ante on that psychic push.

To his credit, the zombie didn’t flinch, only raising an eyebrow as he looked down at his phone.

“You got any proof that you’re Midoriya?” 

“I brought my ID.” The man scrutinized it, then handed it back to Izuku and strode towards the front door. 

“Keep up. I’m not slowing down because you’re short.”

Chapter Text

The halls of UA were immense, stretching up 10 feet to the ceiling. While it still wouldn’t have been enough for Izuku in his past life, (Any time after the age of 14, that is,) They were still plenty tall enough to accommodate most quirks that would require such alterations to a building. School was in session, so while they would occasionally see the stray student walking about, most were still in class. Come to think of it, Eraserhead was a teacher, so why wasn’t he in class? 

Normally, Izuku would have just asked, after all, it’s terribly rude to go poking around in someone’s brain with no reason, but the Erasure Hero’s waspish nature had really struck a nerve. Despite being biologically 14, he was mentally so old he predated human civilization, and he deserved a little respect, damn it. So, just this once, he may have poked around Aizawa’s memories to find what he wanted.

“So, expelled your whole class, huh?”

After a moment of shock, Aizawa nodded in confirmation.

“Now, the first seven I get. They were a rotten bunch of kids, I’d have hated them to become heroes. Just a load of Mini-Endeavors with tenth-generation quirk power behind them. I also understand you getting rid of Yamaguchi, disgusting pervert that he was, but the other twelve? What was their crime?” 

“They didn’t take it seriously enough. If they want to be heroes, they should know what they’re getting into. If they’re not willing to give this course everything they’ve got from the first second, then I have no desire to teach imbeciles with no potential.”

As they walked, the silence continued on and on, and as they came to the door of Nedzu’s office, Izuku responded.

“As a teacher, isn’t it your job to help them understand how serious their new profession is? They’re children. Children don’t take the world seriously, don’t understand how fragile they are. That understanding comes with maturity, Aizawa. It’s your job to help them mature, not just give them skills. In any case, the powers that be hide that part of heroics from the public, paint it as a glamorous way to serve your fellow man. You can’t expect these kids to know what’s hidden from them. No matter how many dreams you crush, your friend won’t be coming back.” As Aizawa stared, slack-jawed at Izuku, the teenager pushed open the office door, and went inside with one final remark.

“Just think about it, kay?”

Suddenly, a voice from behind him spoke

“Well said, Young Midoriya. I’m afraid I’ve been trying to bring that same point to Aizawa’s attention for several years now, and I’ve never gotten that much of a reaction.”

Nedzu was smaller than Izuku thought he’d be. Not that Izuku was much one to judge, being the 155 centimeter reincarnation of a 5-meter demigod. He was barely two feet tall, bearing the features of multiple rodents (though he most strongly resembled a stoat). 

“Greetings Mr. Midoriya, or do you have another name you’d like to go by?” Nedzu asked, his black eyes glittering. 

“Midoriya is fine, Nedzu-san. Any pseudonyms I’ve gone by have long since been left behind at this point.”

“But you have gone by a pseudonym at some time in the past, yes?” Nedzu twitched his whiskers “Anyone I’d recognize?” 

“Not in this world.” Izuku chuckled. Nedzu hummed and have a nod of acknowledgement.

“From another, then.” Nedzu stated, obviously not asking. “How, if I may be so rude?” 

“High-risk, High-reward psychic technique. Saved myself from a dying world and came to one where my enemies never came to power.” Nedzu’s eyes sparkled now, interest like a razor’s edge in the curve of his lips. 

“So you projected your consciousness across the universal boundary? Incredible. To think that one can access the psychic field of one world from another… the possibilities are endless.”

“One is right.” Izuku said. “Only I would be able to do it, unless you happen to have tens of thousands of psychics with 52,000 years of experience handy.”

“Fifty-two thousand years? Did the history of your world proceed as ours did?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. The divergence point of your world from mine was the appearance of quirks.” Nedzu seemed to start in surprise

“There are no quirks where you come from?” 

“None whatsoever. Only those with mutations brought about by genetics and the machinations of the immaterium.”

“Immaterium… pray tell, what exactly do you refer to?” Nedzu asked

Izuku paused for a moment, looking for the words to encapsulate exactly what the Warp was.

“The Immaterium, or the Warp in layman’s terms, is an alternate universe generated by the thoughts, feelings, and desires of every sentient being in the known universe. Everything in our world has its own distorted mirror in the warp, across the fabric of space and time.” Izuku paused to take a breath. “In the world I came from, the warp had been corrupted, becoming a terrifying place, home to all manner of nasty entities. However, this world’s section of the Warp remains unmarred, on a level I have never seen before.”

“Interesting… So, could one visit this alternate dimension?” Nedzu questioned

“With the right equipment, or a powerful enough psychic, yes. As a matter of fact, it’s the easiest way to achieve FTL spaceflight that humanity ever managed to discover.”

“Faster-than-light travel, hm? Impressive. Is there anything else particularly pressing that I should know before we get to the meat and potatoes of today’s meeting?” Nedzu pulled a manilla folder from a desk drawer, laying it on his desk.

“Nothing that I don’t suspect we’ll already get to.” Izuku leaned back in the plush, comfortable chair he had chosen to sit in. 

“Excellent. Now, If I’m not mistaken, you wish to attend UA as a student, correct?” Nedzu clasped his paws, waiting for an answer

“Yes. After much deliberation, I decided that the best way to help humanity on its path to greatness is to become a hero. A symbol of hope for the future, that all of mankind can look to as a guiding light into the stars, and into the darkness beyond.”

“My my, well said. However, I have an… Alternative offer for you.” If possible, Nedzu seemed to get even more excited, his digits beginning to twitch, clasped as they were.

“You have my interest, Principal. What would this offer entail?”

“Well, I would suppose that you’ve already mastered the mathematics, sciences, and languages of our time?” At Izuku’s agreement, he continued. “And there’s no need to teach history to someone that lived it, after all. I would like you to take on a bit of a… Student Teacher role in this year’s classes. You could earn your certification as a hero, while also not wasting your time with standard academics, with the added benefit of helping out the school for compensation!”

“Well,” said Izuku “The offer is certainly lucrative… What classes would I teach?”

“Well, you would be a secondary teacher for our support and heroics courses. After all, I hear you are a rather gifted scientist?” Nedzu began rifling through the papers in his manilla folder, now revealed to be hiring paperwork.

“Among other things, yes.” After a moment of consideration, Izuku nodded. “Very well, I accept. I look forward to working with you, Nedzu.” 

“And I, You, Mr. Midoriya. Please come by on the day of the entrance exam at about 8:00 so we can introduce you to the rest of the faculty and prepare you for your position.”

“Very well. I’ll see you then.”

Izuku stepped out of the door, finding Aizawa still leaning against the door jamb, making quite an impressive attempt at pretending to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake, Aizawa. I’m ready to go now.”

The man leaned away from the wall, giving a soft hum as he led Izuku back to the gates. 

“Did you mean it?” said Aizawa.

“Did I mean what?” replied Izuku. Aizwawa’s frown deepened.

“What you said, about how I teach.” 

“Every word. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that teaching is never easy. Sometimes, your mistakes align just right to produce success, and sometimes even the best laid plans fall to ruin.” As Izuku spoke, he thought about his former sons, long dead or twisted beyond recognition. “In the end, I’m just glad that I get a second chance.”  

After a moment, Aizawa startled “What do you mean, another chance?”

“Ah, no spoiling the surprise. You have to wait just like everyone else.” 

“Damnit, can you drop the cryptid business for five seconds and give me a straight answer?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Aizawa. See you on Exam day!

As the green haired menace strolled away, one thought repeated endlessly in Shouta’s mind, sharing space with his new doubts about his way of teaching.

Fucking Problem Child .

Chapter Text

As Izuku settled in for the train ride back to his house, he pulled out his phone and informed his mom of the situation. While he could, technically, have simply spoken into her mind, it creeped her out, so he avoided it when possible. Katsuki, however, had no such reservations.

Kacchan. Izuku ‘said’ Meet at mine in 20. Big news.

Even without listening to Katsuki’s response, Izuku knew he’d be there. However, he did it anyway, because he liked to hear his boyfriend think.

Yeah, Yeah, I’m already here, dumbass. That was Kacchan for you.

Suddenly, Izuku felt a presence watching him. A psychic presence. Almost immediately, he narrowed his list of suspects down to a pot-bellied salaryman and a purple-haired zombie. Given that the zombie was staring at him like a rabbit would look at a starving wolf, Izuku supposed he knew which of the two was the psychic. 

He walked up to the boy, watching him shrink into himself as Izuku approached.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” said Izuku, with a kind smirk and a psychic aura of calm.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what- what why I did that. You just, you just seemed so big but you looked so ordinary and everything in my body was telling me to run and now I think I should have listened because now I feel really calm and I think I’ve just accepted the fact that you’re gonna kill-” The boy paused ”I’m gonna shut up now.” The boy somehow shrank even further into himself, almost disappearing beneath his collar.

“Oh? So you must not have an empathy or telepathy quirk then. I know it’s mental, but I can’t tell much more just from the brief touch.”

“Y-you can feel my quirk?”

“Well, I can feel that it’s mental, and psychic in nature. Given the strength, it’s likely something that creates a link with the minds of others? Some form of one-way telepathy or mind-reading perhaps? Though, probably not mind reading, because otherwise you’d have known why I came over here and not worried about me killing you, By the way, totally not going to kill you, it’s just so rare to meet another person with a psychic quirk, did you know that psychic type quirks are the third-rarest quirk type in Japan? Anyway, I’m getting off topic, So, not a mind-reader, I think maybe…” Izuku thought for a moment, then shot the other boy a finger gun. ”Mind Control, right?”

“Y-yeah? I really don’t wanna talk about it though.” The lavender-haired boy seemed nervous, as if expecting Izuku to refuse and keep pushing anyway.

“Oh, alright then. I’m Izuku Midoriya, it’s nice to meet you. I totally understand not wanting to talk about your quirk by the way. People can be assholes.” as they shook hands tentatively, Shinsou seemed to be having either a nervous breakdown or a religious experience. Perhaps both.

“Hitoshi Shinsou.” The boy was obviously in shock. Time to end the conversation.

“Well, this is my stop.” Said Izuku, waving to his new… (Friend? Acquaintance?) Friend. “Maybe I’ll see you around.” 

As the doors of the train slid shut, Shinsou murmured, too low for a normal human to hear “God, I hope not.”

After fifteen minutes of walking, Izuku came to his front door, toeing off his shoes and calling into the house.

“Mom, Kacchan, I’m home!”

His mom and Katsuki rounded the corner, his mother sweeping him up in a hug, then pulling back and holding him at arm’s length

“How’d it go, Dear?” Mom asked, her eyes shining with mixed hope and concern.

“Well,” said Izuku, shooting Katsuki a shit-eating grin over his mother’s shoulder, “Kacchan’s going to have to get used to calling me ‘Sensei’, if he wants to avoid detention.”

“WHAT?!” Shouted Katsuki and Mom in unison

“You’re looking at the newest unofficial member of UA’s faculty: Hero/Support teacher Midoriya Izuku. I’ve got to go back in a couple of weeks to oversee the recommendation exams and get my staff orientation.” 

“Oh, that’s great Izuku!” said his Mom, “Katsuki, would you like to stay for dinner? We can celebrate!” 

“Of course, Auntie Inko,” said Katsuki, with a smug, evil glint in his eye “Izuku and I can get a little training in.” 

Despite his massive power, Izuku gulped. Katsuki and Izuku had been training together since they could remember, and they had never once gone easy on each other. 

“Sounds good, Kacchan. You ready to get your ass beat by a U.A. teacher?”

“ Izuku Midoriya! ” came Mom’s voice from the kitchen as they sped out the door. 

The two of them walked down the street, shoulders bumping in an affectionate way 

“So…” said Katsuki, in the quiet, serious way that he did when he was being especially serious. “You’re really a U.A. Teacher, huh? Straight to the top for you?” While Katsuki’s tone seemed completely normal, Izuku could tell that he was stormy with emotion, even without brushing against his mind. After 15 years of knowing Katsuki, Izuku could read between the lines as natural as breathing. Are you leaving me behind? I thought we were going to the top together?

Izuku reached out, and grabbed Katsuki’s wrist. “C’mere.” Izuku dragged him into an alley between two buildings, where he knew that Katsuki would actually accept affection, instead of turning into a massive tsundere. He grabbed Katsuki’s face between his hands, and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Katsuki Bakugou. You are the single greatest hero I’ve ever known. You could have so easily become like the rest of the idiots in this world with a decent quirk and too much praise, but you didn’t . Instead, you became not only the best hero, but the best man I’ve had the privilege of knowing in more than 52,000 years of life. Know that I mean it like nothing else when I say that I will never leave you. We are together, till the end, as long as you want me and even if you don’t, I’ll always be there for you. There is no one I would rather spend the rest of eternity with, and we will be heroes together. You understand?” Izuku punctuated his point by capturing Katsuki’s mouth in a kiss, before pulling back to look him in his wide, slightly unfocused eyes.

After a few moments, Katsuki’s eyes focused, before he burst into laughter, throwing his arms around Izuku’s shoulders

“Yeah. I understand.” Izuku could feel Katsuki’s smile against his neck. “Love  you, ‘Zu.”

“Love you too, Kacchan.” chuckled Izuku, “Now let’s get to the park so that I can kick your ass.”

They both continued on their way, hand in hand towards the park, With Izuku occasionally swinging their hands between them. (What of it? 52,000 year old demigods deserve to feel like kids sometimes too.) Eventually, they came to their favorite sparring clearing, the trees around them slightly singed and some splintered form near-upon ten years of constant abuse 

“Alright Kacchan, Standard rules?”

“You bet your ass. Full-contact, no brain-fuckery, no holds barred.” Katsuki grinned, his hands already sparking in popcorn-like blasts. “You better not hold back.”

“Only as much as I normally do, Kacchan. I still have to teach you something , after all.” It had taken Katsuki a while to get over the fact that no matter how much he trained, Izuku would always have a trump card over him, but in recent years, they both accepted that fact, and Instead Katsuki used Izuku’s vast wealth of experience and power as both teacher of new skills and tactics, and a testbed for his new techniques. 

”3…” Said Izuku

“2…” replied Katsuki, his feral grin stretching even wider

“GO” They shouted in unison.

Katsuki had the advantage in speed, blasting straight towards Izuku, using his explosions to boost himself. Izuku prepared to meet him with a telekinetic wave, but at the last possible moment, Katsuki dodged upwards, blasting himself over and behind Izuku’s head, forcing Izuku to drop the wave to throw up an arm to block the mid-air head kick Katsuki delivered. Izuku wheeled around as Katsuki landed behind him, already preparing to throw an explosion at his back.  Izuku lowered himself into a stance for physical combat, pushing the flow of the immaterium into his body to increase his strength and speed far beyond anything a normal human should be capable of. He dipped around Katsuki’s blast, and loosed a series of quick, bruising blows to Katsuki’s torso, before Katsuki countered with a punishing body kick. 

Izuku rolled with the momentum of the kick, imitating an Aeldari fighting style he had picked up in his youth. He flowed like water, all lithe muscle and flashing color, snaking between blasts that would put a normal man through a tree. 

Katsuki tried for a feint left, but he gave his true intentions away with a flick of his eyes and an unnatural tenseness in his right side, which gave Izuku plenty of forewarning to catch the sparking right hook, prepared to blow Izuku into kingdom come, and redirect it, guiding the momentum, tugging at joints and locking up limbs until he had Katsuki on the ground, palm flat on his back. 

“Yield, Kacchan. Or I make a spark.” They both knew he would never do that, but it was an effective way to end the bout. 

On and on they went, Most matches following that similar framework, but each time, Katsuki improved fractionally. After all, ten years of training was nothing to ten thousand, let alone fifty-thousand. 

Soon enough, Izuku’s mom was calling them back for dinner, and the boys reluctantly trudged home, singed clothes, sweaty faces, and already-discoloring bruises making them look like survivors of a villain attack. 

‘All in all,’ Izuku thought, ‘a good day.’

Chapter Text

Soon enough, the day of the recommendation exams came. Early in the morning, Izuku took the train down to U.A. , seeing nothing interesting on the way, then making his way to the school itself. As he approached the gates, he once again found Aizawa leaning against the wall, waiting for him. 

“Hey, Hobo!” Izuku said, waving a two-fingered hello at the hero.

“Midoriya,” said Eraserhead, nodding. “Punctual. I like that. Too many of the heroes here are late all the time.”

“Punctuality saves lives. The last time I was late…” Izuku thought back to a world, 12,000 years ago, as his memory reckoned. His first true failure, arriving on a world seeking one of his sons, and instead only finding a desiccated corpse and a cabal of morally bankrupt ‘scientists’. “Let’s just say that punctuality is important.”

“Hm.” From Aizawa’s expression, he knew there was more to Izuku’s words, but he obviously had enough tact not to pry too much. “Let’s get inside. Nedzu wants to start new staff orientation as soon as possible. Though, by the looks of things, your fellow orientee is going to run late.”

“Fellow Orientee?” Izuku was curious, but respected Aizawa enough not to pluck the answer from the man’s mind. Plus, it would do him no good to tip his hand to his new colleagues too early.

“A giant moron, if you ask me.” Aizawa obviously had nothing but contempt for the man. Not a good sign, as Aizawa seemed like a good man. Anyone he didn’t like didn’t bode well to Izuku.

As they walked through the halls, Izuku tried to commit as much of the building as possible to memory. After all, it wouldn’t do to get lost in his new workplace. 

“Meeting room’s just ahead.”

Izuku stopped short of the door, causing Aizawa to halt as well, a dry smirk taking over his face.

“What, nerves getting the be-” The man stopped short, a reasonable reaction considering that there was now an entirely different man standing beside him. 

“Who the hell are you?” Aizawa said, his quirk activating and capture weapon levitating to life around his shoulders.

“Relax, Aizawa. I’m still Midoriya,” Izuku said, letting his glamor drop. “I’m just using a little trick that I used to be very fond of. After all, what teachers worth their salt would trust a fourteen year-old without a hero license? Better to project a psychic image of another self.”

And another self it was. His true self, once upon a time. Before the 15-foot psychic glamor or the golden armor, before humanity had even left earth, this was how he had looked. A man, before anything else. A man roughly six feet in height, eyes not-quite blue, green, or brown. with flowing black hair that reached to the base of his neck, wearing a suit that hid his extremely athletic build. Contrary to popular belief, the Emperor of Mankind was not one for bodybuilding. As a matter of fact, he had never been able to put on bulk. He had become incredibly strong, yes, but his muscle stayed dense and lithe, under the psychic aura he projected to cloak his underwhelming visage. It had served him well, in the time before he ruled an empire. Made it easy to hide. 

Now, however, it just made him look older. 

“Hm.” said Aizawa, anger and embarrassment warring for dominance in his limited expression. “Warn a guy next time. I very nearly raised the alarm.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” said Izuku, pushing open the meeting room’s oversized door.

The assembled staff of the nation’s greatest hero school stared back at Izuku, with expressions ranging from barely-concealed apathy and condescension (Vlad King), to an almost hungry eagerness (Midnight). Aizawa took his seat at Nedzu’s right hand, before the stoat began his spiel.

“Welcome, Mr. Midoriya! Please, take a seat, and we can get started on the proceedings.” As he spoke, Nedzu gestured to a chair near the foot of the table, one of two obviously reserved for the new hires. Satisfied, Nedzu continued.

“Now, as I’m sure you all read in the handy information packets I provided,” He said, in a  tone that all but said that he knew they had not, in fact, read the packets, “This is our newest member of staff, Izuku Midoriya. Midoriya, if you wouldn’t mind telling the staff a bit about yourself? Hero name, quirk, hopes and dreams, anything you feel like, really.” 

Really Nedzu, now I’ve got to bullshit a hero name on the spot. Hell, you probably did that on purpose, didn’t you. Izuku thought, making sure the principal heard them. As he did, Nedzu’s grin widened fractionally, as if confirming his suspicions. Fuck it, Izuku thought When in doubt…

“Hello Everyone. My name is Izuku Midoriya,” He began “My hero name is Steward, and I have a quirk of the same name. I look forward to working with all of you.”

This seemed to satisfy everyone but Vlad King, who now glared suspiciously as he leaned forward in his chair.

“Now, since our… Other new hire seems intent on being tardy, let’s get on with the recommendation exams, yes?” When everyone gave their assent, Nedzu hopped onto Aizawa’s shoulder, and the two led the way to the exam grounds. As they walked, Aizawa fell back to Izuku’s position in the group, and Nedzu popped from his scarf like a jack-in-the-box.

“Changing up the look a bit, eh Mr. Midoriya?” Nedzu said with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Well, you of all people should know that others are less likely to take… certain demographics seriously.” Izuku replied easily.

“Now, since this is your first exam day, you will not be a part of the judging process. You will simply be there to observe how we judge, and act as security.”

“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”

As they came to the exam grounds, Izuku saw the assembled examinees, each standing with the hero that recommended them, save those recommended by U.A. teachers. 

By and large, the exams went as expected. There were a few standouts, in his mind. The Yaoyorozu girl, heir to Yaoyorozu biomedical, a company specializing in elite surgical equipment, was certainly one. Her quirk allowed her to do essentially the same thing as Izuku’s warpcraft, save that she was using lipids instead of raw psychic energy. Let it not be said that Midnight didn’t know talent and hard work when she saw it.

Honenuki, the boy with the softening quirk, had a solid technical grasp on his quirk, though he could stand to do with a bit of creativity. He was a recommendation to UA from a mid-rank hero named The Melter, who had seen the boy training in a deserted lot and taken the kid under his wing. 

The first of the Legacy students, IIda Tenya, was a nightmare, as he stood now. He had absolutely no flexibility. No bend, no give, and when a hero doesn’t have that kind of flexibility, eventually, they’ll come up against something they aren’t prepared for. Now, a more flexible hero, they stretch , they learn, and they move on, but if a hero is too rigid when they meet that barrier, they break . Izuku had seen it countless times, over the years. Izuku had no doubt the boy would get in through the general exams, but he was not UA recommendation material.

Wait a minute… Did that girl just…? Yes. Yes she did, she split her fucking body like that motherfucking video game boss from the 2010s. Now THAT, Izuku mused, Is some bullshit. She had the potential to be laughably strong, as a matter of fact, nigh-upon invincible. After all, how are you supposed to hit someone that can self-bisect at will? A solid recommendation from… Uwabami, of all people. That girl was chock-full of surprises.

The wind boy, Yoarashi, had some promise, though his naive concept of heroism and his obsession with ‘passion’ would get him killed if he didn’t have a proper teacher. And a proper teacher he did not have. As a matter of fact, he was recommended to U.A. by a middling rank hero barely clinging to his spot in the bottom half of the top 100, and his training showed. All the boy knew was brute force. Zero subtlety whatsoever. And what was his deal with the Todoroki boy?

Ah, yes, The Todoroki boy. A striking young man, by all accounts. Masterful with his abilities, but not untrained in hand-to-hand, athletic, smart as a whip if his test scores were any indication. Shame, however, that his father was so obviously abusing him, and either no-one seemed to notice, or no-one seemed to care. That was immediately obvious to Izuku, as soon as the boy flinched when his father spoke, or when he refused to use his flame ability, even as it hurt him. However, most of all, it was evident in the way he looked at Endeavor. Even though he had known of the number 2 hero’s abuse, it still hit a little too close to home to see it in person.

He had become aware of the plight of the Todoroki family several years back, when first mulling over his plans to help change the world for the better. Endeavor had always been a lynchpin in this plan, as he served as the perfect example of what a hero shouldn’t be. An arrogant, narcissistic bastard only concerned with being the most powerful and flaunting his power. 

So it was no small surprise when, upon looking into the hero, Izuku found miles and miles of paper trail for mountains of bribes and NDA’s, horrifying casualty statistics, and miles of red tape on mysterious hospital visits over the years. 

So, he had a plan. The first step was getting the boy alone, and to that end, he had volunteered to grab the boy for his interview with the panel of judges assigned to the exams. 

“-en will this childish rebellion end, Shouto? When will you finally get it through your thick skull that you will not win this fight?”

Izuku chose that as his moment to round the corner, deliberately catching Endeavor’s attention, and taking note of the sneer of contempt that took its place on the Flame Hero’s face.

“Endeavor. Just the man I wanted to see,” Izuku said, making it clear in his voice just how false that was. “I’ve come to fetch young Shouto for the interview portion of the exam.” 

“And just who the hell are you? Has UA really sunk so low as to hire a non-hero on their staff? Perhaps I should reconsider sending my son to this institution.”

“No, sir, as a matter of fact, I am a hero. Fairly new, and underground, at that, so it’s no wonder you’ve not heard of me.”

“Hm. A coward. Not much better. Very well. Go, Shouto, we’ll continue this conversation when you get back.” Despite the benign words, the look on the man’s face hinted that the ‘conversation’ to follow would include more than talking.

Izuku and the youngest Todoroki left, walking along the halls in silence until they were well out of Endeavor’s hearing, when Izuku suddenly stopped, and turned to face him. 

“Would you mind having a little talk with me, Todoroki? It won’t take more than a moment.”

At the boy’s cautious nod, Izuku began in a hushed tone.

“Now, I want you to listen all of the way until the end of this, then you can ask any questions you want at the end, okay? But we don’t have a lot of time, and this is important, so no interruptions, got it?”

“Yes..” Todoroki was obviously confused, but hiding it well.

“To start: I know what your father has done to you and your family, and I want to help.” Izuku held up a hand to stop Todoroki’s interjection. “No interruptions, remember? I want to help you and your family, and I have the means and connections to do so. I want to know if I can count on your help when I do. I know that you’ve probably got a lot of doubts and misgivings about this whole thing, and I don’t expect you to have an answer for me now, but if you go home, think about it, and get back to me by the first day of-” Suddenly, the heterochromatic boy interrupted.

“Do you really think you can?” The boy’s voice was small, as though he was expecting Izuku to laugh and pull the rug out from under him. It didn’t fit the stoic boy, and it hurt Izuku to hear. 

“Yes. I have some very powerful friends, who are very smart, and,” Izuku said, giving the boy a smirk “I’m pretty crafty myself.”

“If you really think you can…” Said Todoroki, trying to bring some steel into his tone. “I’ll do it.” Izuku gave the boy his best smile, before continuing.

“That’s fantastic. Now, since you’ve decided to trust me with something so important, I’m going to trust you with something important, alright? No telling anybody until I say, OK?” The boy nodded “alright. I’m going to change shape here in a moment, and I’ll look very different, but I’m still the same person, Okay?” 

“Okay.” replied Todoroki.

Izuku let his glamor slip away, and suddenly Todoroki perceived him as he was.

“You’re just a kid?” Todoroki said, though not accusingly. Only curiosity came through in his voice.

“Yeah. I’ve just got a really special quirk that makes me smarter than the average 14-year old.”

Todoroki frowned. “Did you lie to my father when you said you were a teacher?”

Izuku waved his arms around in a mild panic. “Oh, no, no, no, I actually have been hired on as a teacher this year, as a matter of fact, I’ll be a Foundational heroics instructor, so there’s a pretty good chance I’ll teach you!”

“Oh. Good.” Todoroki hummed. “I was looking forward to that.”

“Now, you’re sure you want to help me take down your father?” Izuku said.

“One-hundred percent.” Todoroki’s voice was all steel now, pure conviction to his new cause.

“Well,” Said Izuku, “There isn’t much I can do until the school year begins, but once class is in session, we can get this show on the road, alright? Just hang in there a bit longer.”

“Okay.” Said Todoroki, his voice a whirlwind of emotion.

“Then come on,” said Izuku, “We’ve still got to get you to that interview.

Chapter Text

The next two weeks were a blur. Finalizing paperwork for his employment at UA, Sitting uselessly in classes at middle school, daily training and spars with Katsuki to get him ready for the regular heroics entrance exam, and his own private research and study on his own… private projects. First among those private projects, however, was overseeing the Number One Hero’s recovery. 

“Now, as much as I like to see that you’re cutting back on hero work, I’m not seeing the level of healing I’d like to around the cavity. Have you been doing anything strenuous, or deviating from the dietary plan Chiyo and I tailored for you?”

All Might looked down, sheepish, as he muttered something indistinguishable. 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Izuku was 90% sure he knew what Yagi had said, but he wanted to draw out the man’s embarrassment.

“I said,” All Might’s trembling voice carried the tone of a man desperately clinging to the last bit of his dignity. “That I may have overdone it on cheeseburgers. After so long with only liquid foods, I’ve found myself overindulging.” All Might looked at Izuku, sheepish, but with a core of steel that reminded Izuku that the man was, after all, the Number One Hero. 

“Well,” Izuku said. “I suppose, given your love of American cuisine, I should have allowed for a little more… indulgence in your diet. So long as you’re willing to hold off on strenuous activity for a little longer, I think we can have you back to full capacity by the U.A. Sports Festival. Is that agreeable to you?”

“I think that will be just fine.” Yagi gave Izuku a kind smile. “After all, I’m not living on borrowed time, now. I’m just living. ”

“Speaking of living,” Izuku said, “How’s the hunt for a successor going?” Izuku offered Yagi a cup of his favorite tea blend, a recipe shared by Nedzu in one of their afternoon ‘brainstorming’ sessions (Which were closer to two old men bitching about the news than two super-geniuses planning world domination, but no one needed to know that.)

“Well, I’ve met with the candidate Mirai suggested, a second-year student named Toogata. He’s a good contender, I think, but I’d like to look a little longer on my own. Now that it’s not a necessity, I want to take my time and really find the right successor, one who can thrive without the shadow of All For One looming over them.” 

“Okay, okay,” said Izuku “Save the rousing speeches for the cameras. You’re doing pretty well, aside from your indulgences. I can see you’ve been cleaning the wound cavity like I instructed, and keeping it wrapped correctly. It looks like I don’t have to call in Chiyo today.” All Might looked vaguely thankful for that, as they both knew Chiyo wouldn’t be nearly as forgiving of Yagi’s love of cheeseburgers. 

As Izuku walked out of All Might’s agency and towards the train that would carry him home, he thought about the other projects he had in the works. The Endeavor problem was unable to be handled at present, but Shouto Todoroki was on board with the project, and he was working on locating the eldest son, though that was proving difficult. After all, the man had escaped all notice for nigh-upon 9 years. Until he could build up an unshakable wall of evidence, there wasn’t much more he could do for the children of the Number two hero. 

He also had to prepare materials for his new teaching duties at UA. lesson plans and simulations and laboratory experiences. Teaching two classes made this challenging, as the hero and support classes had little overlap in what he would teach them. The heroics track needed conditioning, training, and sculpting, to be molded into the protectors of tomorrow. The support class, however, needed entirely different things. The support kids were already zealous, passionate about their chosen profession, chasing glory and endless curiosity. They needed no molding. They needed only the tools, education, and guidance to catch up to their dreams, and Izuku was glad to be the one to give it to them. 

It was something he had noticed, in this life, that he was altogether more altruistic, less jaded, even though 52,000 years of memory gave him plenty of reason to be. But, in recent years, those memories felt more and more like someone else’s. ‘The Emperor’, heartless warlord of a million worlds, who deemed tyranny a kindness and freedom a mistake, who stole power from dark realms to create sons he knew he could never love, felt like a different person entirely than Midoriya Izuku, future hero, who wanted nothing more than to lead humanity into the future as a symbol of what could be, loving son and partner to two of the best people that Earth had to offer.

He was happier, now, than he had ever been. Even when the Emperor was on the cusp of achieving everything, he never felt this content , this blessed happiness that filled him to the brim every time he was reminded of just how much he had in this life, even without resplendent golden palaces, or an empire that spanned the stars. 

Izuku shook his head to clear it as the train pulled into the station nearest his house. It wouldn’t do to get all brooding and introspective when there were other priorities, namely the Hero Commission. 

As someone who, in another life, had been the ruler of a brutal, autocratic, empire, Izuku could recognize a corrupt government institution with far too much power when he saw it. And boy howdy, did Izuku see a lot of red flags when he looked at the HPSC. For an easy starter, Hawks was obviously a child soldier. In addition, their honestly masterful scheme of making heroics, and thus quirks, integral to Japanese society was truly a work of art. 

They encouraged those with ‘heroic quirks’ (read: bright, flashy quirks that look good on TV cameras.) to be heroes, while simultaneously telling those with ‘weak’ quirks that they’d never make it. (Izuku knew this was bullshit because, in his heyday, he’d seen Malcador take down a throng of no less than thirty techno-barbarians without using his psychic strength once.) Finally, and perhaps most brilliantly, was their treatment of the quirkless and those with ‘villainous’ quirks. Their constant oppression and discrimination was discreetly encouraged by the HPSC, leading those effected to either an unremarkable life of poverty, or crime, thus insuring that quirked crime will always continue, permanently ensuring Japan’s dependence on heroes, and thus the HPSC. As the Emperor, he would have found it impressive. Izuku, however, just found it disgusting. 

It would all come down, though. It had to. Otherwise, Izuku wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Chapter Text

On the day of the General Entrance Exam, Katsuki was a wreck. Izuku tried as best he could to calm Katsuki’s spirit, but it was no use. However, instead of expressing his nerves in the typical manner, Katsuki was just channeling his anxiety into being a general dick.

“Get the fuck out of my way, extra!” Katsuki said as he shoulder-checked a brown-haired girl aside, unbalancing her and almost knocking her over. Izuku, however, was not going to let that slide.

“Kacchan!” Izuku shouted as he grabbed both the girl and his partner in a telekinetic grip “Apologize, now.” Katsuki scowled and writhed, his hands popping like firecrackers.

“Why the hell should I apologize to… Round Cheeks over there?” Izuku frowned as he pulled the girl to her feet, tightening his mental hold on Katsuki.

“Because she is a person, and deserves your respect. Now apologize, before I make you.”

“...I’m sorry…” said Katsuki, teeth gritted like the words physically pained him.

“There we go.” Said Izuku, turning to the girl. “I’m so sorry for him. He’s really nervous, and he responds to stress by being an ass.”

The girl seemed shocked, and stuttered out something halfway between an apology and a denial.

“Do you need any help finding the testing location? I can probably help.” At the girl’s denial, Izuku gave his best disbelieving smile.

“How about you come with us anyway? I need someone to keep Kacchan out of trouble while I’m away, and you seem like the type. What do you say?” The girl seemed grateful for the chance to deny needing a guide, and the pretense of keeping Katsuki in line sparked something feral in her eyes.

Izuku led the two of them to the testing location, seeing Katsuki off with a quick hug before he began the trek down to testing ground Beta, where the control module for the general admissions Entrance Exam was located.

“Ah, Midoriya! Good to see you here early.” Nedzu, predictably, was already in the room, watching the written exams on the screens all across the far wall. “Do come in, take a seat. I was just looking over our batch of candidates for this year.”

Izuku took a seat next to Nedzu, humming as his eyes flickered over the various screens, taking in the plethora of students, all settling in for their written exams under various heroic proctors.

“So, do you have my Support roster yet? I know Majima gets priority, but there are a couple of students I’d like to take on.”

Nedzu’s face contorted into its natural smile, the one that graced his lips when he was truly happy, not when he had to act happy around other people. To most, it would look strange, alien. But to Izuku, who could feel the principal’s mind at work as instinctually as if he were reading another human’s body language, it was a smile like any other.

“Of course. I’ll get it sent to your school inbox right away. That Hatsume girl is certainly something, isn’t she?” Izuku hummed. Of course Nedzu knew who he was most looking forward to teaching.

“She is one of my favorite prospects. I’ve met many inventors in my time, and those with the most… eccentricities are usually the most interesting to be around.” He thought of the many interesting people he had once met in the Cult Mechanicus.

“Indeed. If you don’t mind my saying, you’re a fairly eccentric fellow yourself, Midoriya.” Izuku laughed.

“Yes, I suppose I am, aren’t I?” Izuku gave a soft smile towards the screen. “Any news on my… special projects?” Nedzu’s hackles raised as he thought of the two ‘special projects’ Izuku had brought him into the loop upon at their last meeting, shortly before the Support exam three days prior.

“The Endeavor project will be difficult, I won’t lie to you. Even with the youngest Todoroki’s testimony, the commission will do their best to cover for their number two. After all, he is one of their most useful assets.” Izuku gave a snort at that.

“Their most powerful Black Card, you mean.” A dark look crossed both of their faces at that. Black Card heroics was a dirty business, not fit for discussion in a place of education.

“Yes… Indeed. In any case, your second project is the most difficult to achieve. Are you sure you couldn’t simply source that machinery with your… warpcraft, was it?” Izuku frowned, leaning back in his chair.

“Unfortunately, no. while warpcraft works well enough to create the basic parts I needed to create modern medical equipment and heal Yagi, proper gene forges aren’t something I can just make on a whim. There are several components I need that I can only source from the most advanced institutions of the modern age. Otherwise, I have to make them myself, and that took about five hundred years of trial and error last time. Perhaps I could bring it down to two or three, now that I don’t actually have to reinvent the technology, but I’d still rather have someone else assemble the main components. It cuts the time of the work down to five months, all told.”

“How interesting…” Said Nedzu, eyes shining. “The more I learn about the Warp, the less it seems I know.”

“Such is the nature of the Warp, It actively defies description. It has driven many men mad simply trying to understand the smallest facets. Even I dare not delve too deep.”

Suddenly, the door slammed open, revealing the jubilant form of Present Mic, standing three abreast with Midnight and Aizawa. Their conversation continued on a moment, until the trio locked their eyes on Izuku, who had been so deep in conversation with the principal he had entirely lost track of time, and forgotten to apply his psychic glamor.

“Who in the hell are you?” the Voice hero and the Rated R hero fell into combat stances, while Aizawa merely palmed his face with an earth-shattering sigh.

“Hello Midoriya. Being a dramatic ass like usual, I see?” Aizawa’s two companions practically jumped at the words, whipping their heads back and forth between the teenager and Aizawa.

“Wait, Sho, tha-” Aizawa cut off the Voice hero mid-sentence.

“Yes. That is Midoriya, as he truly is, at least, I think so. It’s how I first saw him anyway. He can change his appearance.” To punctuate Aizawa’s point, Izuku applied the glamor, flashing a winning smile at the two heroes.

“I know you may have your reservations about working with someone who looks to be a child, but I can assure you, I am older than human civilization itself. I do hope that my little secret can stay between us though. I don’t know how a few of your colleagues would react, and I’d rather them not find out until I’m ready for them to.” With that, he dropped the glamor…

Right as the rest of UA’s teachers walked through the door.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

For the record, Izuku was usually smarter than this. (Shut the fuck up, Kacchan, he WAS.)  

Now, he had an assortment of quirks, weapons, and fists pointed at him, and an assortment of voices shouting out various versions of ‘who the fuck is that’. 

In the middle, impassive, was Aizawa, looking nonplussed at the sky as if seeking answers in the foam tiles of the drop ceiling. 

Before chaos could descend in the building, Izuku decided to take matters into his own hands. With a brief look to Nedzu, he raised his hand and clenched his fist. 

“ Enough .” He filled his voice with his power, the same power that had once driven 100,000 Astartes to their knees in the ashes of their holy city. The room fell silent in less than a heartbeat. “ Listen. ” Izuku took a breath, then began.

“I suppose this was bound to come out sooner or later, but I was hoping to build a greater repertoire with all of you first. I am Izuku Midoriya, the new assistant teacher for class 1-A Foundational Heroics, and class 1-F Support Development. I have already been introduced to several members of staff, including these three-” Izuku gestured to Midnight, Mic, and Aizawa, who was still seemingly counting the pores in the ceiling tiles. “Nedzu, and lastly-” Suddenly, the door slammed open with a rush of wind, revealing the very man in question.

“I AM HERE, THOUGH SLIGHTLY LAT- Oh. Midoriya, is something the matter?” Izuku glowered, before waving an arm at the newly arrived All Might. 

“Him. He knows me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to release the bonds on your minds, you’re going to lower your weapons, and we’re going to have a conversation like civilized people, agreed?”

 With a brief probe, Izuku found that most were in agreement, though a couple were still apprehensive, and only Vlad King was openly hostile. As predicted, Vlad’s was the first voice to raise once Izuku released the mental control.

“And why the hell should we trust you? You don’t even look like the guy at the Recommendation Exams! For all we know, you’ve used your mind control on them already, and you’re just guiding them around like puppets!” 

Hm. That was troubling. Izuku didn’t even have to look into Vlad’s mind to see all the problems there. (Though he did anyway.) There was anger there, yes, but there was also fear, insecurity, and about a dozen other unhealthy feelings rolling around inside his head. 

“Well, for starters,” Izuku threw up his glamor, taking on the appearance that he had first shown the assembled teachers two weeks earlier. “Ta-da, here I am! A psychic glamor, designed to earn myself a little respect before revealing my true self! Not to mention, do you really think Nedzu , the third-most-intelligent being on this planet, would allow himself to be ensnared by a basic mind control? I think not. And really, the Number One Hero? Don’t you think someone would have noticed if he had been placed under the thrall of some master villain?” Vlad king looked almost sheepish now, as if only now considering these things for the first time. 

“And on the subject of lying,” Izuku began again, “would anyone in this room not named Aizawa or Nedzu have taken me seriously if I didn’t first show myself as an adult?” Even without looking, Izuku just knew there was a hand going up. “Yagi, you don’t count. I pulled a psychic tumor out of your stomach.” If anything, the assembled teachers were more confused than suspicious now, as the number one hero slumped and dropped his hand like a child scorned in class. 

Before Izuku could go any further, an automated voice sounded from the speaker grills around the ceiling, harsh and grating

“ T-Minus 10 minutes until the exam starts. Proctors and Judges, to your assigned spaces.”

“Can we all shelve this discussion until after the exam? I’m on the hook for refereeing zone B and I don’t want to be late.” If Izuku hadn’t been so incensed, he might have laughed. The greatest heroes of a generation, looking like scolded children. “Nedzu, am I dismissed?” All the while, the rodent was practically giggling to himself, his non-human mind not quite so affected by Izuku’s display of mental dominance.

“Quite so, Mr. Midoriya, and I do thank you for the excellent entertainment.” Izuku made a rude gesture at Nedzu and began to walk away from the chimera, who called after him “Don’t worry, I’ll explain the basics of the situation, with all due discretion!” Despite the fact that Nedzu was a conniving little bilge rat, he was also a half-decent person, when he felt like it. The thought made Izuku smile.

Izuku stood atop the massive wall bordering zone B, a small subsection of Training ground Gamma, which comprised an entire artificial city, and was sectioned off with massive walls (courtesy of Cementoss) every year for the Entrance exams. The section upon which Izuku now stood marked section B, one characterized by tall skyscrapers and wide streets. As he waited for the designated start time, he looked down at the students milling below, some in little groups of twos and threes, others standing alone, whether to focus or try and hide their anxiety.

After a moment of searching the crowd, he spotted a couple of familiar places. The first was the brown-haired girl that he and Katsuki had run into earlier that morning. Uraraka, if his memory served. The second was the fascinating boy he had met on the train, the one with the mental quirk and the lavender hair. What was his name… In any case, Izuku would keep an eye on those two. They seemed like nice kids. 

When the time came for Izuku to begin the exam, he once again threw up his glamor, once again clothing himself in a suit coat and slacks over a white shirt before stepping to the edge of the wall and shouting down at the assembled teenagers

“Alright you hero wannabes! Get moving!” as he spoke, the doors swung wide revealing to the kids the cityscape of their exam. However, only the lavender-haired boy moved, sprinting into the city at full tilt. “What’re you all waiting for? He’s got the right idea! There are no countdowns at U.A.!”

Like a shot, they were off, one quickly pulling ahead, feet pounding at the pavement in supernaturally long strides. After closer examination, Izuku saw it was Ingenium’s brother, the stiff one. It was a good sign that his failure at the recommendation exams didn’t break him. It gave Izuku hope that he may learn to bend yet.

As the first robots started going down, Izuku refocused on his two personal interests. Uraraka was doing just fine, lifting robots into the air and dropping them with an almighty crash , while the purple boy was using his quirk to ensnare nearby examinees so that he could finish the robots off, and then running away before the target came to their senses. In addition, the boy seemed to be hellbent on saving as many people as he could from fallen debris and mechanized foes, as he was quite proficient at yanking them out of the way, or co-opting his thrall’s quirk to blast away the danger.

On and on it went, a mad carnage of screeching metal and shouting teenagers, Until suddenly, a voice came over his UA-issued earpiece.

“Zero Pointer being released in T-minus 5…” as the countdown began, Izuku looked around, keeping a close watch on those near the site where the titanic automaton would rise, as was his job. After all, while UA had Recovery Girl on staff, reckless endangerment was still a crime, and a vastly more serious one when children were involved. 

As the countdown ended, the ground itself began to tremble, and Izuku was reminded of the very first time he’d seen a titan, 13,000 years and another lifetime ago. It had been awe-inspiring, as, even in the age of wonders later called the Dark Age of Technology, no-one had had cause to build something so patently ludicrous , so gargantuan. In a way, it was pathetic, to see that the men of the 29th millennium needed such continental grandeur to match a fraction of what a single lightly-armed voidcraft could do just four thousand years prior. 

And like then, as he watched the skyscraper-sized behemoth of steel thunder across the earth, he was struck by a sudden blast of humility. There was still so much to do. Even with all the progress mankind had made, there was still so much they had left to achieve, and if he had anything to say about it, he’d be there every step of the way. 

However, he was struck from his reverie by the sudden shrill of a female scream. With inhuman speed, his eyes found the source and locked onto Uraraka, trapped under a slab of concrete in the massive robot’s path.

“Heads up control, this is Site B, we have an examinee down in the crush zone. Prepare for an emergency shutdown.” An acknowledgement crackled over the radio, and Izuku began gathering psychic power to stop the metallic beast himself if it came down to it. 

But before he even could, help came from a most unexpected person: the lavender-haired boy from the train. (In complete honesty, this wasn’t much of a surprise. Even from their first meeting, Izuku could see a glowing coal of selflessness in him, like an ember of heroism desperately guttering against the cold wind. Even then, Izuku knew it would spark and catch flame, given the chance.) The boy suddenly burst forward, snagging as many people as he could from the crowd running away from the Zero Pointer in his quirk as possible. When he finally neared Uraraka, he was at the head of a crowd of seven, including the Mini-Ingenium and someone who Izuku now recognized as the son of a minor french diplomat. 

Izuku watched as they levered the debris off of Uraraka, using street signs and brute strength, revealing Uraraka’s broken ankle beneath the slab. Using their street sign levers and the fallen awning of a nearby storefront, the group created a stretcher to carry her away on, moving as fast as they dared away from the Zero-Pointer, racing against the clock as they tried to outpace its giant steps. For a moment, it almost seemed as though they’d lose the race, before the timer in Izuku’s hand went off, and he sent a mental message to every examinee in the zone.

‘The allotted exam time is over. Please stop whatever you’re doing, and if you are uninjured, make your way towards the entrance gate, where further instructions will be given. If you are injured, stay where you are, and a UA representative will come to your aid. Any attempts to gain points or interfere with others will be met with the immediate dismissal of your score, and a ban from all UA courses. Thank you, and have a great rest of your day. 

And with that, his exam day duties were over. As a first-year teacher, he wasn’t involved in the exam grading process, nor in the allotment of rescue points. Indeed, he and Yagi would just be sitting and watching the process, observers until their third year of teaching, when they would be eligible to join the exam board if they so chose. 

That, however, would come after a very awkward conversation with the UA faculty; one he was dreading very, very much.

Chapter Text

As Izuku stepped into the conference room used for grading and placement of the Entrance Exam, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned to him. Deciding simply to ignore the situation, he took his seat, grabbing the tablet placed there for him to look over the applicants along with those on the actual admissions board. However, after several seconds, the meeting hadn’t resumed, and everyone was still staring at him.

Fine, guess we’re dealing with this, he thought as he raised his gaze from the tablet, and took in the other assembled heroes and teachers. “Yes?” he asked, with all the saccharine sweetness of antifreeze.

Almost immediately, the table descended into chaos, with nearly everyone at the table trying to talk over one another, either to ask him a question or say their piece about him. Izuku waited a moment to see if they would quiet down on their own, but when it became obvious that they would not, he decided to take matters into his own hands. 

“QUIET!” he roared, putting a little bit of his psychic power into the word, just enough to put the primal fear of a greater power into the assembled pros. 

“Now,” said Izuku, standing up and letting a little of his anger seep into his voice. “Who has something actually useful to say?” 

“You’re a dramatic ass.” Aizawa said, clearly already done with the day’s bullshit. 

 “Yep.” said Izuku. “Now, if no one else has anything to say, I believe I promised answers.” He looked around the room, taking in the faces of the UA staff. “To start, I ask that none of you ask questions until I am done, no matter how difficult my claims are to believe. I simply wish to remind you that, in this world, there are many things of which mankind does not know, or understand. Can you all agree to that?” Vlad King scoffed in the silence.

“So you just expect us to believe whatever bullshit you spew?” A dark feeling overtook Izuku for a moment, however he forced it down quickly. 

“No. I expect you to listen. After all, you were the one who wanted to haul me off to an interrogation room in chains, yes?” At this, Vlad King paled. After all, he’d only voiced that sentiment after Izuku was well away. (Of course, such things as distance didn’t matter much to the most gifted telepath of 50 millenia.) 

“Now, where to begin…” Izuku said, rubbing his chin. “Well, I suppose to start, I’ll say this; I am not from this universe. I was born in another, and through an immensely dangerous psychic procedure, sent my consciousness to this world upon the moment of my death. In that other world, I was far, far older, and known as the Emperor of Mankind. I was born in my world’s bronze age, at the beginnings of human civilization.” Izuku paused, savoring the tension “I died 52 thousand years later, in the year 983 of the forty-third millennium. In that time, I watched humanity, guiding them from the shadows towards the great destiny I always knew they had. I watched as they invented farming, forging, industry, electricity, and spaceflight.” Izuku’s voice started to get a little choked. Even after all this time, it still wrenched at his heart to think of what humanity once was. “I watched as mankind grew and grew, learning all they could of the world around them so that they might master it all. I watched as they took to the stars, colonizing world after world until there was a Federation of planets, all with Terra at their head.” Izuku’s voice darkened now. “And I saw it all fall to ruin.” 

Izuku looked up now, taking a quick survey of the teacher’s faces. 

“You see, there is a place, another reality that lurks just underneath the skin of all other realities, acting as a black mirror of them all. It is called the Warp, a realm of pure thought, where reality itself is shaped only by the collective thoughts and feelings of every bit of sentient life in the universe. In the world I came from, the Warp was an evil place, much like a Hell, of sorts, filled with demons, and vastly powerful entities that fed on human emotion and souls. They called themselves the Chaos Gods, and they were my greatest enemies.” 

“They were parasites that fed on human emotion, trying to incite death and destruction to gain power. In my arrogance, I thought I could make a deal with them. I took from them forbidden knowledge, and I paid the price for it. Half of my sons, whom I had abused horribly as my connection faded to the human I had once been, turned against my empire, seeking to kill me and destroy everything I had built. In the end, I won, but not without dooming everything I had built. Three of my sons were dead, killed either by their brothers or by my own hand, and I was imprisoned on a throne of gold, clinging to life with nothing but the force of my will and the will of trillions of humans, all wishing for me to live. Then, I spent twelve thousand years on that throne, every single nerve left in my body screaming in constant, ever-increasing pain, left with nothing but my own thoughts and the screams of the millions of Daemons trying to claw their way through the breach between worlds.”

The teachers all looked horrified now, though whether at Izuku’s actions or the things he’d suffered, he had no clue. 

“In those twelve-thousand years, I thought of much, but nothing more so than my mistakes, many as they are. I reflected on what I had done wrong, and hatched a plan. I would send my soul, the very core of my being and essence of my power, to another world, through the Warp that connects all worlds. I would send my soul to a world untainted by chaos, where I could try again, with knowledge of my mistakes and failures.” Izuku’s voice goes quiet again, low and emotional. “Where I could be human again.” Izuku looked each of the adults in the eye in turn, trying to convey all the emotion he could without use of his power.

“If I’m being honest, most days I don’t even feel like the Emperor anymore,” Izuku said, almost a whisper. “I’m just Izuku Midoriya. I have a family, I want to be a hero.” Izuku’s voice became choked “I’m only fifteen, for fuck’s sake. But I’m also fifty-two thousand, and I have enough power to level a city, if I wanted.” He was holding back tears, now. Even the power of the Emperor couldn’t save Izuku from the Midoriya tears, when he was digging up some wounds even he hadn’t recognized. “I know so many terrible things, and it’s all on me to stop them, because I’m the only one who can.”

“You’re wrong.” a voice cut through Izuku’s haze. He looked up to see the other teachers staring at Aizawa, almost shocked. “You’re not the only one. There are plenty of people who can lend a hand, if you let them.” Aizawa coughed awkwardly, as though only just now realizing what he had said. “You’re still a dramatic ass though.” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Nedzu, the rodent’s snout twitching as he hopped from his chair and rounded the table towards Izuku. “You are not alone. Indeed, I must admit that I have made a mistake, in treating you entirely as an adult. Though you may have the experience and wisdom of a man millenia my senior, you are still a child and I would have done better to remember that.” Nedzu grabbed Izuku’s hands then, surprising Izuku, because he knew just how much the mammalian principal hated touching others. However, before Izuku could think much on it, Nedzu continued. “And I apologize.” 

After a moment, the tension broke, and Nedzu pulled back. “Now,” Nedzu said, “That is out of the way,  let’s take a half-hour recess for lunch before we get on with the student sections! I’m sure Lunch Rush has prepared his best for us once again!” Izuku saw how Nedzu was deflecting the topic from Izuku. Hell, everyone saw it. But, Izuku appreciated it all the same. He needed some time, and perhaps a good meal.

Chapter Text

After the heroes (and Izuku) had taken a moment to recover, eat, and recompose, they came back to the meeting room once more, ready to begin the selection process for the 36 available spots in UA’s Heroics Course.

“Now, to review the Recommendations students.” Nedzu began the meeting, turning on a projector and letting it broadcast to the wall behind him. 

“First is Todoroki Shouto, the number two scorer in our exam.” as the principal gestured, a still image of the boy appeared on the projector. “Unfortunately, the first-place scorer refused admittance, citing a competing offer from Shiketsu. However, Todoroki displayed excellent control, and power, as well as scoring in the 94th percentile of the written exam.” 

“Next is Yaoyorozu Momo, a legacy student of our fine establishment. An excellent score on the written, coming in at the 99th percentile, and not a bad physical score either, coming in at number three overall. However, there is also the… added pressure from the board of directors thanks to her father’s generous donation of several of his company’s high-quality medical apparatus’ this last fall, which have already gone to great use.” The rodent gestured to Yagi, who was already filling out and gaining some muscle mass, even outside of his All Might form. Indeed, within a year, there might have been no difference between the two.

“Third,” said Nedzu, “Is Tokage Setsuna.” The girl displayed excellent quirk control, and martial ability, though her academic skills were not at the same level as the others admitted. However, her scores were well within the passing range, and her potential is great enough to even things out.” 

“Fourth is Honenuki Juuzou,  recommended to us by former alumnus Mori Shinuta, the Quicksand Hero: Melter. An excellent performance all around, with perfectly acceptable academics, and excellent quirk control, likely due to one-on-one training with his mentor.” As he finished, Nedzu looked to the two homeroom teachers. “Gentlemen, the game is on.”

“I want Yaoyorozu and Todoroki.” Aizawa said, blunt and straight-forward.

“And why should you have them? You just want the top scorers in your class.” Kan’s answering snarl was filled with resentment.

“No, one has a lacking self-image that needs building up, which no-one will argue I specialize in,” the agreeable murmurs confirmed his words “And the other has a highly destructive quirk that, quite simply, you aren’t prepared to handle.” Despite Aizawa’s blunt phrasing, Kan still agreed, and took the other students on without complaint.

“Now,” Nedzu said, “Let us display the top 50.” As it was explained to Izuku, the top 40 students were weeded through each year, choosing only the 36 with the greatest potential, while the other 14 were sent to the general education class 1-C, so that they could prove their worth through the Sports Festival, and fill any vacancies that opened as the weaknesses of those chosen became apparent, and nigh-invariably saw some of them expelled or booted to Gen-Ed. However, to throw a twist into the mix, the order in which the children were displayed was randomized, so as to cut down on bias simply due to an impressive score in the practical exam.

The first five up were a diverse bunch, with all sorts of quirks, appearances, and skill sets. As Nedzu brought the first onto the screen behind him, he sat up straighter and spoke.

“First up is Tsutonori Pony, recent immigrant from America, currently staying with her father to attempt the entrance exam. Fluent in English, though her Japanese leaves something to be desired, as well as proficient in chemistry and physics. Her quirk is Horn Cannon, allowing her to fire and instantly regrow the horns on her head to a certain extent, as well as control them telekinetically once fired. She displayed quick thinking in the practical, taking down 13 robots for a total of 24 combat points, as well as helping other examinees for an additional 17 rescue points. She was level-headed and decisive, with excellent quirk control, as expected of someone from a nation where public quirk usage is commonplace. My recommendation is placement into Class 1-B, with a substitution of Basic Japanese in the stead of English. Any dissenters?” 

“I agree,” said Aizawa. “Vlad’s English is better anyway.” After a round of agreements, the selection process continued. Iida Tenya, placed in class 1-A, where Aizawa could hopefully teach the boy to bend without breaking. Shishida Jurota, placed in class 1-B, with a teacher who could understand the stigma of a bestial-seeming quirk. Takahashi Ryu, placed in Gen Ed until he put in some serious work towards what he proclaimed to be his life’s ambition. The fifth student, however, was when the trouble came.

“Hitoshi Shinsou,” Nedzu said, moving the slide projection along. “Proficiency in history, literature, and mathematics, scoring in the 93rd percentile of the written portion of the exam. Quirk paperwork describes his quirk as Brainwashing, a call-and-response based mental emitter. On the physical, he disabled 15 robots for a total of 22 combat points, as well as multiple rather daring rescues, which earned him a total of 42 rescue points for a total score of 64 points. My recommendation is placement in  hero class 1-A, under supervision of Eraserhead. Any objections?”

“Yes.” said Vlad King “I don’t agree with his admittance to the hero course at all.”  The Blood hero crossed his arms, his extreme underbite adding to his look of gruff displeasure.

“And your reasoning?” asked Nedzu, with keen interest. “I think we’d all like to hear it.”

“He’s barely trained. Look at him, he’s all skin and bones. He relies too much on his quirk, and someone like him’s got no place in a hero course.”

“Hm.” Said Nedzu. “Decent point-” Izuku interjected before the mammalian principal got too far.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, I know that I’m supposed to lay low and take a strictly observational role, but I cannot let this stand. Vlad King, would you like to run that by us again?” The blood hero sputtered incoherently with rage, the emotion coloring the ether around him.

“I said,” the hero spat “That he’s a weakling that relies too much on his damn quirk, and someone like him doesn’t belong in a hero course!” Izuku hummed, letting a hint of his anger creep into his voice as he spoke.

“As I thought. Disappointing, but I had to be sure.” Izuku turned towards the rest of the table. “Kan, would you like to tell the rest of us why you really don’t want Shinsou in the Hero Course?” If anything, the hero simply became more enraged.

“Didn’t I just say it? Do you need your damned ears cleaned?” Izuku sighed. A shame.  He thought. I expected so much better from him.

“Are you sure,” Izuku said “That it has nothing to do with ‘that damned little villain’s’ quirk? Or were you simply thinking that for shits and giggles?” Izuku hated having to use the evidence of people’s own thoughts against them like this. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but he wouldn’t let a young man’s bright future be ruined because of internalized quirkism on the behalf of an ignorant man. “Also, in case you hadn’t seen,” Izuku said, “That boy was swinging a sign pole around with enough force to destroy combat automata. Last time I checked, someone who is, as you say, skin and bones, would be thoroughly incapable of such a feat.”

The hero shrunk into his seat, sputtering like a broken pneumatic seal as he tried to think his way out of the hole he had dug for himself. 

“Is this true?” said Nedzu, speaking aloud the thoughts behind the dark glares of every educator in the room. 

“I, well- I, not quite as- I,” the man was in an all-out panic now “Yes.” the man said, holding nothing in his voice but defeat. 

“I must say, Sekijirou. I am disappointed.” Nedzu’s words were sharp, cutting like a knife into the hero. “I expected better from you. We will be discussing this at a later time, agreed?” at the hero’s sheepish nod, the rodent continued. “However, I am not displeased enough to air your dirty laundry in front of your co-workers. Now, any objections that aren’t based in bigotry?”

Needless to say, there were none, and the meeting continued as expected.

Three hours later, Izuku walks out of the building, feeling thoroughly exhausted in ways he hadn’t since his internment on the Golden Throne. 

“Damn it, I’ve got to run if I want to catch the train.” he said, picking up his pace into a light jog.

If there was one good thing about UA’s location, Izuku supposed that it would be the school’s close proximity to a train station. Indeed, without the platform nearby, Izuku would have had to wait another hour before getting home, and he’d already delayed dinner enough. After all, Katsuki had a celebration dinner tonight, and what kind of partner would he be to miss it?

As Izuku sprinted home, he pulled out his phone and sent his mom a text, letting her know he was running a bit late, and to start without him. As much as Izuku hated to miss the start of the party, he would hate to bring Katsuki’s party to a halt more. 

Izuku picked up his speed even further, his legs pumping at a speed faster than any human without a speed quirk could have achieved. He knew that he should be more careful about displaying blatant supernatural power in public, but when it came to making Kacchan happy, Izuku’s rational thought process went more-or-less out the window.

In less than three minutes, Izuku smashed through the front door, panting, as the heads of three adults and three children whipped towards him like the tracking systems of a guided missile. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku shouted, wrapping his boyfriend in a crushing hug. “I’m so fucking proud of you!” Suddenly, Izuku was alerted to a twin pair of confused hums from the other side of the room.

“Oh. Uraraka, Shinsou.” Izuku said with a breathless smile, only now acknowledging their presence. “lovely to see you. How were exams?” The two children only continued to stare, until Izuku waved his arms at the heavily-laden table. 

“Well don’t stand on ceremony on my account, let’s eat! We have an exam to celebrate!” Even through their confusion, the two teens, as well as the collected Bakugou and Midoriya families, all sat down and began grabbing food items from the various platters, excited at the smorgasbord on display.

“So,” said Uraraka, when the other conversation lulled. “How do you know our names, Midoriya? You weren’t here when we introduced ourselves.”

Now, Izuku could have answered them directly, given them a straight answer and been forthright with the role he was going to be taking in their educational future, however…

‘Don’t you dare.’ the psychic message went out, undetected by all but his mom and Kacchan, the two people in the room who might not keep their mouths shut. After all, if there was one area in which Izuku took after his Aunt and Uncle, it was in messing with unsuspecting people.

“Well,” said Izuku, “I have a powerful psychic quirk, and I sort of pick up information about the people around me, even when I don’t want to.” 

Shinsou laughed bitterly. “I bet people don’t like that much.” 

Shinsou recoiled, almost as if he didn’t mean for that to slip out. Concerning.

“No, they really don’t.” Izuku said. “They don’t say much out loud, because they’re scared, but they seem to conveniently forget that I still hear everything. Can’t say anything, though, because you can’t prove thoughts, can you?” A look came into Shinsou’s eyes then, somewhere in-between relief, wariness and understanding.

Good. Izuku thought. He needs someone on his side.

“So, Uraraka?” Izuku asked “How many points do you think you got?”

“Well,” Uraraka said, “If I counted right, and I’m pretty sure I did, I got 27 points. I just hope that’s enough. After all, I saw people destroying tons of bots.” 

29, actually. Thought Izuku. and when you add on the 23 rescue points, I’m pretty sure that makes a success. 

“ Wait,” said Shinsou, a note of desperation in his voice.  “29 points? And you’re still not sure if you passed” as he trailed off, he muttered something that sounded like ‘ if that’s my competition I’m doomed. ’ However, Izuku still said nothing. Surprises were always so nice.

As they all finished their meal, sitting back and groaning while their stomachs settled, Uraraka and Shinsou bade them all goodnight, both politely declining Masaru’s offer to drive them home, saying that they’d take the train, and that there would be no issues with their parents, though there was something about the way Shinsou said it… In any case, It wouldn’t do to dwell on suspicion when there was work to be done.

Izuku cleared the table, grabbing all the plates and utensils, and bringing them to the Bakugou’s lavishly appointed kitchen. It was a little-known fact, but world-renowned fashion designer Bakugou Masaru was an avid chef, and had in fact attended culinary school with the money from his modeling career. However, before Izuku could get too far into cleaning the dishes, he heard the gruff clearing of a throat behind him. 

“So,” Katsuki said with a knowing grin, “You wanna tell me why you’re keeping my new classmates in the dark?” 

“Who says they’re going to be your classmates? They could have failed.” Izuku replied, turning his back to the sink and continuing the washing up via telekinesis.

“The shit-eating grin on your face while they talked about it.” Katsuki said, smiling even harder at Izuku’s huff of indignation.

“No I did not. I know for a fact that I have near-perfect control of my expressions, Kacchan.” Katsuki simply smiled and stepped a little closer.

“You seem to forget that I’ve known you just as long as you’ve known me, Izu. I can read you like a book no matter how good you get at hiding your expressions.”

“You know,” said Izuku, “Have I ever told you how much you remind me of my old best friend?”

“What, that Malcite guy? You talk about him every now and again, but…” Katsuki trailed off. After all, it was rare that Izuku talked about his time as the Emperor.

“Yeah.” Izuku said. “He was a giant asshole too.” Katsuki’s indignant squawk was like music to Izuku’s ears. “But,” Izuku continued. “He was also the greatest man I ever knew in that world. I made… a lot of mistakes in that life. But if I’d have not had Malcador? I would have made so many more.” Katsuki’s face got red as Izuku spoke, his blush rising uncomfortably.

“Shut up,” Katsuki said, trying to distract Izuku from complimenting him. “I don’t want to hear about all of your exes, unless you’re telling me how much better I am.” Now, it was Izuku’s turn to squawk indignantly. 

“Malcador was not my- You get back here!” 

Needless to say, the scolding the two boys got was completely worth it.

Chapter Text

Izuku and Katsuki walked through the gate, shoulders bumping, as the stream of children flowed around them, savoring the time they had together. As they neared the front doors of the monolithic glass tower, Katsuki grabbed Izuku’s hand and squeezed it, before stepping away. However, before they separated, Izuku shot him a malicious smile and winked. 

“See you soon Kacchan.” With that, Izuku left, leaving a sputtering Katsuki behind him. 

From there, Izuku strolled down to the teacher’s lounge confidently, walking over to the room’s burbling coffee maker and pouring himself a piping hot mug of coffee. 

“Morning, Midoriya.” Snipe’s lazy drawl sounded across the room. “Ready for your first day?” The cowboy was sitting in a plush chair, legs propped up and hat over his eyes, as if taking a nap. 

“Is anyone?” asked Izuku, taking the seat next to the gunslinger in the semicircle of heroes relaxing before the day began. 

“I’ve got to say, I’m a little jealous.” Midnight said from across the group. “Nedzu didn’t let me take on a multi-course load until my third year.” the other teachers murmured agreement, all aware of Izuku’s prior qualifications but none quite sure how to bring it up. 

“Well, I’m only an assistant,” Izuku said. “I get to help Aizawa with his homeroom, then I help Powerloader with the Support gremlins, then I help Yagi not be an idiot during Fundamental Heroics.” The straw-haired hero blushed, embarrassed but not able to defend himself. After all, Izuku had spent the last week going over Yagi’s lesson plans and rewriting them entirely.

Suddenly, a small chime sounded, indicating that there were only ten more minutes till the beginning of homeroom.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa said from the corner of the room, where until then he had been sleeping in his hideous yellow bag. “Meet me on sports field D. Today is going to be a baseline assessment, as well as a bit of hazing to weed out those that don’t belong.” The other teachers cried out. 

“And here it goes again, ladies and gentlemen!” Present Mic crowed. “How many kids will Eraser crush this year? Today is your last chance to vote, so pony up or shut up, ladies and gentlemen!”

As the heroes placed their last-minute bets, Izuku ducked into the small bathroom connected to the lounge to change into the “hero costume” he had designed. If it were up to his preference, he would have simply worn a plain suit, or failing that a chunky suit of power armor. Eventually, however, he had decided on something a little less ostentatious than a suit of fifteen-foot tall mech-armor.

It was a simple black jumpsuit, with his personal aquila over the right breast, and a utility belt of simple tools, from which hung a scabbard and a holster. With Yagi’s surgery out of the way, Izuku had been free to focus on other pursuits, including the recreation of his favored weaponry. His sword, Anathema , he had created to the same specifications it possessed in his last life, its medieval form contrasting starkly with the master-crafted power field and the psychic power imbued in it. His bolter, on the other hand, had undergone massive changes, For one, Izuku had lowered the weapon’s power significantly, so it wouldn't blow holes in the students he trained, or the villains he apprehended. (The fact that it still had the capability, if a lever on the side was flicked, was neither here nor there.) The gun was now a sleek, elegant thing, bearing the same basic shape as a standard handgun, though one of unusually large caliber. In his opinion, it was a very nice uniform, one fit for field work, and still stylistic enough to be formal. There were also dress components, for more formal events, that made him resemble an officer of the Imperial Navy, or even a commissar of the Army, however they were far too grandiose to be practical for a simple exam. 

As he stepped out of the small room, the other teachers nodded in approval, with Midnight even giving a well-meaning whistle at the form-fitting bodysuit. Izuku turned to the head of the support department and gave him a nod. 

“Thank you, Maijima-San. I appreciate you doing this on such short notice.” The redhead nodded back before replying. 

“No problem. I can’t have my T.A. looking like a hobo, can I?” the man shot a look at Aizawa. “We’ve already got one of those around here.” Aizawa grunted, before walking out of the room. 

“Well,” said Izuku, “I ought to get to that field. I’m sure Aizawa won’t take long introducing himself.” And Izuku’s instincts were on point, as he just barely beat the man himself to the field. 

“Heads up,” said Aizawa, lowering his voice. “I’ve threatened them all with expulsion, so don’t contradict. Really, all you need to do is sit, watch, and observe them. Maybe do your mind-reading thing to anyone that seems like trouble.” as Izuku nodded, the kids began to trickle in from the locker rooms in twos and threes, already forming into pseudo-friend groups. Almost at once, both Uraraka and Shinsou looked at him immediately with wide eyes, and Izuku had to hold a finger to his lips to stop them from crying out. Luckily, they didn’t need much more convincing, and simply stood in still silence until Aizawa spoke. 

“12 minutes.” Aizawa said. “Disappointing. Do you have any idea how many people can die in 12 minutes?” the class shook their heads. “You don’t want to. Be better.” 

Aizawa then produced a softball from somewhere in his voluminous capture weapon and lobbed it towards Katsuki. “Bakugou. You got the highest score on the practical exam, and the seventh-highest on the written. Throw this softball as hard as you can, using your quirk however you wish.” Katsuki’s face took on a wicked smile as he stepped forward to the circle Aizawa indicated, tossing the ball up and down to gauge its weight. 

“Might want to cover your ears.” he called in a bored tone “it’s about to get loud.” several of the students did so, and not a moment too soon. Katsuki reared back, flinging the ball with all his strength, immediately following it up with a window-shaking explosion, propelling the ball nearly out of sight. After a moment, the tablet in Aizawa’s hand let out a tone. 

“782 meters.” After the shouts of surprise and awe died down, Aizawa continued. “This is what you’ll be doing today. You’ll be conducting the same battery of physical exams that you’ve taken every year since elementary school, except with your quirks. I need to know your baseline, and this will give it to me.” the students erupted, talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, until one voice sounded above the rest. 

“This is gonna be so much fun!”  Izuku almost felt pity for the poor girl as Aizawa’s quirk flared, hair floating as if underwater and eyes glowing a bright, angry red. 

“Fun?” the man hissed. “You think this is about fun ?” Suddenly, Izuku saw where the man was going with this charade, and he had to turn to keep his smile hidden from the students. “FIne then. Let’s up the stakes. Whoever comes in last in this test will be expelled immediately.” If the students had been loud before, now they were thunder incarnate. 

“What! We passed the entrance exam! How is it fair to throw us out before we can prove ourselves? That’s not manly at all!” Izuku cringed as the boy shouted. 

You all just have to push his buttons, don’t you?

Aizawa’s voice took on a deadly calm. “Fair?” he asked. “You think life is fair ? Tell me, when a villain kills a woman simply because they can , is that fair ? When a natural disaster wipes a town off the map? Are those things fair ?” The students were absolutely silent, sensing that they gone too far. Then, like the bursting of a soap bubble, the moment was over, and Aizawa was once again giving instructions.

“First is the Fifty-Meter dash. Aoyama, Asui, Go.” 

The children were doing well, all in all. Most of them were in truly excellent physical shape, barring a few who simply trusted their quirks to get them through. However, they could be worked on in time. For the most part, the students all seemed good mentally, too. 

However, there was an exception to every rule, and this one was named Mineta Minoru. A vile, repulsive little shit of the sort even The Emperor never tolerated, let alone Izuku. A repugnant, lecherous little snake with all sorts of nasty thoughts that Izuku didn’t even need to read his mind to see. However, he had, and Izuku did not like what he saw. There were only two more tests, but if that little twerp thought one more perverted thing about a single one of his stud-

“Aizawa-Sensei, who’s the kid?” a voice said. Immediately, his attention zeroed in on the speaker, Ojiro Mashirao , his brain helpfully supplied. A decent enough student, excelled in the realm of physical prowess. Indeed, had this been one hundred years in the past, his physique would have been nearly at the level of Olympic athletes. His mental state, however, was a little more concerning. The boy was rigid and strict, much like the Iida boy, but in much quieter ways. He was a morass of prejudices and outdated ideals, mired in unfounded quirkism.

This, however, was a correctable flaw. 

“Midoriya, if you’d like to introduce yourself?” Aizawa waved a hand at him, directing the attention to him. 

“I am Midoriya Izuku, also known as the provisionally licensed hero Steward. I am acting as an assistant to Eraserhead in teaching your class, in a program to get my own license on an accelerated track.” That was another development of the two-week break afforded by the gap between entrance exams and the start of the school year. Luckily, Nedzu had enough pull with the HPSC to get a special exam arranged for Izuku, so that he would have at least some official authority within the school. 

“With all due respect, what makes you so much better than us?” It was Yaoyorozu that asked that, the faint hum of indignation coloring her words, along with swirls of insecurity and a white-hot, incandescent rage buried so deep, Izuku didn’t know if she herself knew it was there. 

“Yeah,” agreed a few others. “How come he gets to skip the process?” Izuku took careful note of who, then decided that a lesson needed to be taught. 

“Very well.” Izuku said. “I see this is going to have to happen…” he rolled his shoulders, and stood square-on to the assembled teens, letting some of his power pool around his eyes. “Who would you have me fight to prove myself?” mutters spread among the group, all of them side-eying the others to see who would step forward. After a moment, Katsuki sighed and stepped forward. 

“Fine. I got first place on the entrance exam, I’ll fight the shitty nerd.” Katsuki was trying his hardest to appear nonchalant, but Izuku could see right through it, to the excitement and the undercurrent of fear beneath. After all, Katsuki knew that Izuku wasn’t going to hold back this time. This wasn’t to teach skills. It was to teach a lesson in humility.

“To prove my skill to you, I will fight the first place examinee,” he said, pausing when the whispers got too loud. Then, extending the pause for dramatic effect, he sent Katsuki a wink, before continuing.

“Not only that, but I’ll do it quirkless.” 

Chapter Text

The two boys squared off against one another, both standing in a circle of tense children, all quietly awaiting the duel to come. 

“To clarify,” Izuku said, using a bit of mental power to project his voice to those at the back of the group, “The rules are as follows. Bakugou and I will fight, no-holds barred, until one of us is incapacitated or surrenders. I will not be allowed to use my quirk, a rule enforced by these-” Izuku raised a set of metal cuffs, created moments ago with simple warpcraft, “- Quirk restraining cuffs.” In reality, they would do nothing to stop his psychic power, however it would reinforce the concept in their minds, and help sell the story of his ‘quirk’. “Aizawa will referee, and call the fight if things escalate too much. Is that understood?” Izuku swept his gaze along the crowd, taking in the forest of nodding heads. “Then I leave it to you, Eraserhead.”

“Combatants,” Aizawa said. “Move to your corners.” The two boys did so, taking up positions diametrically opposed on the circle that the watching crowd had formed. “Begin.”

The fight began in an instant, Katsuki leaping forward on sparking hands, blasting towards Izuku with all the speed of a rocket ship. In return, Izuku sank low, falling comfortably into the practiced forms of one of the many Aeldari martial arts he’d learned eons ago, when the galaxy was a playground for mankind, and the Eldar still prospered. 

Katsuki’s first blow came from the right, a wide hook, oh-so typical, but Izuku could see that it was fake. Katsuki’s other arm was already in motion, muscles bunching in preparation for the follow-up to this obvious feint. Izuku ducked left, out of the way of the feint, and then quickly dodged right, out of the way of the punishing left jab that followed. Izuku, capitalizing on the opening, released a quick jab to Katsuki’s stomach, followed by a hook to his ribs, leaving him breathless as he regained his footing. 

“Come on,” taunted Izuku, “you’ll have to do better than that.” Katsuki grimaced and launched himself once again at the green-haired teacher, flipping his position last-moment to strike out with a left kick in the air, which was met with one of Izuku’s forearms. The two began to trade blows furiously, trading Katsuki’s usual aerial-focused style for a straight-up slugfest. However, it seemed that every time Katsuki struck, Izuku simply ducked out of the way or, if he couldn’t, re-directed the blow away from himself with a strike of his own. 

In an instant, the clash was broken, Katsuki bringing both hands to bear for an explosive attack as Izuku backflipped away to avoid it, Katsuki riding the recoil of the blast to once again land on the opposite side of the ring from his opponent. 

“Is that truly all you’ve got?” Izuku asked, faking a condescending smile that was guaranteed to piss Katsuki off. With a roar, Katsuki charged once more, his anger sharp like a blade, and driving him to greater heights. Blast after blast, punch after punch, Katsuki hammered away like a man possessed, while his opponent simply weaved around each blow, flowing like water around the vicious attacks, until, with a simple palm to the chest, he forced Katsuki back to the other side of the ring. 

“Not half bad,” said Izuku, shifting his stance once more. “Now let’s end it.” The two charged once more, and the difference was apparent at once. Instead of the loose, flowing dodges and blocks of Izuku’s former style, his current moves were aggressive and precise, almost surgical in their viciousness, jabbing at kidneys and joints, delivering scything kicks and lightning-fast jabs, always one step of Katsuki, and always behind his guard. 

And then, all at once, it was over. One of Katsuki’s punches went wide, aimed for Izuku’s chin, but instead passed harmlessly over his left shoulder. However, the punishment for the simple slip-up was instantaneous. Almost before any of the spectators could blink, Katsuki was in the air, Midoriya holding his arm and slamming him to the earth with a sound that forced a sympathetic wince out of even Todoroki.

After a moment, Aizawa spoke. “Midoriya Wins.” As the dust settled, Izuku brought Katsuki to his feet, revealing no injuries save a bruised pride.  

In reality, the fight was over in perhaps two minutes. To the observers, however, it felt like an eternity and a single instant simultaneously. The top scorer on the entrance exam, a person with unmatched ferocity and raw power rivaled only by Todoroki, brought to his back by someone who looked only their age, but seemed so much more powerful than any of them. 

“Would anyone else like to question my competency?” Izuku asked, rolling his shoulders and slowing his breathing. The mute shaking of heads was answer enough.

“Now that we’ve finished accosting the Teacher’s Assistant,” Aizawa said “Let’s get on with the assessments.”

There were only two left, now. The distance run, which Izuku could already predict the ending of without a moment of looking into the future, and the Ball Throw, the test Katsuki had demonstrated to begin with. 

Most of the kids did well on the distance run, though others clearly needed to work on their Cardio. Sato Rikido, a boy with an impressive musculature and an interesting sugar quirk, dropped out after only a mile. Kouda Koji was next, leaving the track and the one-and-a-half mile mark. Kaminari Denki and Shinsou Hitoshi, who both relied heavily on their quirks, were next, tapping out at 2 miles. However, none of them were as pathetic as Mineta, who only managed a quarter of a mile before coming, wheezing and crying, to a halt. 

If he hadn’t been so repulsive, Izuku may have felt sorry for the boy. After all, it can’t have been easy being four feet tall in shoes, but Izuku simply couldn’t muster any sympathy for the little bastard. 

After 20 minutes, Yaoyorozu’s scooter ran out of gas, and the distance run came to an end. As the exhausted students trudged away from the track, Aizawa tossed the ball to Aoyama, and began the last test. 

The results were, again, better than average for most, with only a few standing above the rest as truly remarkable. Yaoyorozu, ditching her veneer of politeness and class, had made an honest-to-Terra anti-tank gun to launch the ball, firmly cementing her as someone that Izuku needed to befriend yesterday . Ojiro used his tail like a baseball bat, the thick appendage of corded muscle launching the ball nearly 150 meters. 

However, the true standout was Uraraka, who, despite only needing to give the ball enough momentum to move, and let her quirk do the rest, decided to throw the damnable thing so hard she pulled a muscle in her shoulder, just so it could hit orbit that much faster . 

Seriously, Izuku thought, what the hell is wrong with that girl.

However, the test had also solidified another truth for Izuku. Mineta had to go. So, when Aizawa was looking at his tablet, analyzing scores and deciding who needed to be moved to the bottom, Izuku sent the man a mental message.

‘Whatever you do, make sure that Minoru Mineta gets expelled. He’s a Sexual Assault complaint waiting to happen. Trust me, it’s for the best.’ The only indication the man had heard him was a brief, microscopic nod, and a new name at the bottom of the man’s list. 

“I’ve displayed your rankings here, adjusted based on your score in each assessment. The last name on this list is no longer a student of U.A. High.” There was a tense moment as each of the students scanned the list for their name, before a pathetic wail tore from the perverted dwarf’s throat. 

“What? This isn’t fair! I was gonna get all the ladies! You can’t do this to me! Mom won’t let you!” the grape-headed idiot said, until Aizawa flashed his quirk. 

“Mineta, with me to Principal Nedzu’s office, so we can file your expulsion paperwork. The rest of you, with Midoriya to the classroom. He’ll explain it from there.” And with a nod, Aizawa was off, dragging the struggling Mineta behind him in the Capture scarf around his neck. For a moment, the students stood there, reveling in the relief of their continued enrollment, and the sudden removal of vermin from their class. However, Izuku couldn’t let them bask in it forever.

“Well come on,” he said, gesturing with a hand. “Your schedules won’t pass themselves out.”

Chapter Text

The rest of the day passed smoothly, with the rest of the kids scared shitless at the thought of being expelled, staying near-silent until the end-of-day bell sounded, Yaoyorozu seeming about three steps short of a panic attack, mumbling something about how ‘it was supposed to be a ruse’. She was an insecure girl, but Izuku could deal with that at a later point. There were other problems at hand. Speaking of which, Izuku tapped Todoroki on the shoulder as he walked by, motioning for the boy to stay in the classroom. 

When the rest of the kids had left, Izuku put a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder, cringing slightly at the fact that he had to reach up to do it. He may not have liked being forced to constantly appear twelve feet tall, but it did have its uses. 

“How are things at home?” Izuku asked.

“The same as always. Training, isolation, the works,” Todoroki paused for a moment, as if weighing his words. “Thank you for giving me your number. Talking with you has… helped.” Izuku smiled warmly at the boy, before continuing. 

“Nedzu and I are working as fast as we can to build a case against your father. We’re not yet at the point where we would need your testimony, but I trust I can count on it?” Izuku knew that it wasn’t fair to make Todoroki testify about the abuse he’d suffered, but Izuku also knew that any case against Endeavor would fail unless it was iron-clad.

“Why is my father so difficult to take down?” Todoroki asked, alerting Izuku to the fact that he’d been mumbling. “I get that he’s the number two, but surely, between you and Nedzu…”

“Well, Todoroki, it all comes down to the fact that Endeavor is a Black Card hero. Do you know what that means?” asked Izuku, lowering his voice. At the shake of Todoroki’s head, he continued. “A black card hero is one entrusted by the government to carry out black ops. Assassination. Fraud. Blackmail. Espionage. The HPSC employs multiple black-cards at all levels of popularity and power, but Endeavor is one of their favorites. His quirk makes evidence disposal easy, and ‘accidentally’ torching a building the HPSC wants gone is as simple as a stray blast while chasing a villain. He’s a valuable tool to them, and one they won’t let go of easily.” Todoroki stayed quiet awhile, before standing and breaking the silence.

“I appreciate all that you and Nedzu have done for me. I don’t know what I can do to repay yo-”

“Be happy.” Izuku interrupted. “Get free of that bastard and live your life. That’s how you can repay me.”

Suddenly, Izuku’s phone dinged, an audio message from Nedzu lighting up the screen. 

“Quite so, Mr. Todoroki. Nothing would repay me better than seeing the vile practices of an abuser and eugenicist brought to an end by the hand of his victim.” The message ended, and Todoroki sank back into his chair, slumping like a puppet with its strings cut (or perhaps a man freed from the noose was a more apt comparison.) 

“Alright, Todoroki. You can stay here as long as you like, but I’ve got to process Mineta’s expulsion.” Izuku rose, setting a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder as he did. “Remember, you’re not alone. You’ve got people that care about you. Don’t take your old man’s shit, and get through this for just a little longer until we can put the bastard away for good, alright?” Todoroki nodded and stood once more, slinging his bag over his shoulder and 

After Todroki left, Izuku gathered up all the paperwork from Aizawa’s desk and began the trek to Nedzu’s office. While some might expect that the principal would place his office at the very top of the building, or hide it somewhere in the labyrinth-like corridors of the school, they would be mistaken. As a matter of fact, Nedzu had taken up residence in a moderately-sized office on the first floor, which had, under a previous administration, been the office of a middle-manager in Human Resources. 

It was a simple affair, all drab, cozy walls and a floor-to-ceiling window occupying one wall, with a large desk taking up the majority of the space, and the rest occupied by cozy seats and a fully-loaded tea service. One one of those seats, currently trying to make himself as small as physically possible, was one Mineta Minoru. 

The perverse little midget was quivering in his seat, staring with locked eyes at Nedzu ( or perhaps at Aizawa standing menacingly over the Chimera’s shoulder.), when Izuku pushed open the door and entered the room, handing over the paperwork he brought with him to Nedzu.  

“Ah,” Nedzu said, “Now that Mr. Midoriya is here, we can begin.” The stoat shuffled the papers on his desk, looking over the filled-out expulsion forms Izuku had prepared. 

“Now, Mineta, I am a fair being, so I will give you a chance to tell me your side of the story, before I hear a word from Aizawa or Midoriya. So, tell me, Minoru Mineta: In your own words, why were you expelled today?

Immediately, Mineta began blubbering, whining incoherently about ‘demon teachers’ and ‘unfair tests’ and how he’d never, quote ‘get all the babes’ now. In all honesty, it was somehow both pathetic and infuriating, and Nedzu and Aizawa seemed to agree. 

“So what I am hearing,” Nedzu said “is that you placed last in a test designed to test your physical capability, that your biased teacher had already said would result in expulsion for the lowest scorer? And that Mr. Midoriya, your teacher’s assistant, is somehow involved in this, and this is all some plot to keep you from your dreams of, and I quote, ‘get all of the super hot babes’?” As Nedzu finished speaking,  Mineta somehow seemed to shrink into his seat even further, if such a thing was possible. 

“Yes.” the diminutive boy responded in a small tone of voice. 

“Now, Aizawa, inform me of your reasoning behind Mr. Mineta’s expulsion.” Nedzu asked, tilting his head backwards slightly and swiveling his ears to hear the man better. 

“During the Quirk Assessment exam that I give every year, I judged that Mineta was not giving his whole effort, despite my threats of expulsion. In addition to that, I noticed completely inappropriate behavior and comments towards his female classmates, which was corroborated by Midoriya, through the use of his quirk.” Aizawa spoke like a judge, reading out a criminal’s sentence after a lengthy trial. However, there was no trial here. Just cold, swift justice. 

“Now, Midoriya, If I could get your perspective on the matter?” Nedzu now turned his head to Izuku, his black eyes locking onto Izuku’s green.

“In addition to all of the behaviors Aizawa witnessed,” Izuku began, “I looked into Mineta’s mind, and became aware of all manner of disgusting and perverse thoughts and fantasies, as well as some frankly incriminating thoughts.” Mineta paled as Izuku paused, gesturing towards Nedzu’s computer. “Do me a favor and look up the name Otsuka Nao. I think you’ll find that Mineta has had dealings with her before, of a distinctly unpleasant kind.” Nedzu’s face took on an even sharper edge now as he opened a web portal to the many databases he had access to. After a moment, Nedzu seemed to find what he was looking for, if the way Aizawa’s face darkened reading over his shoulder was any indication. 

“Otsuka Nao,” began Nedzu. “Currently a first-year high-school student at Surusto High, reported a sexual assault committed upon her two years ago, however, her middle school swept it under the rug, perhaps in connection with a significant donation made by one Tadashi Mineta, just three days after the case was dropped.” However, almost before Nedzu had finished, excuses were spilling out of the little vermin’s throat. 

“B-but she was asking for it! Shaking that, uh- that in my face all the time, and constantly playing hard to get. Mom says it’s my right to take what I want! I’m a Mineta, Damnit! I won’t let some two-bit hobo and a fucking rat keep me from what I deserve!” the boy shouted, voice almost frothing by the end. However, once he finished shouting, and took in the faces of the two heroes sitting before him, his face went from beet red to deathly pale in a matter of seconds. 

If looks could kill, Mineta would be a dead man twice over, simply from the animal ferocity with which the principal and Aizawa regarded him. However, before the two could tear into the runt, something gave them pause.

Laughter.

Izuku was chuckling, a low, dry sound that started in his chest and rattled out of his throat like the slithering of a venomous serpent across a dry riverbed. It was a dangerous laugh, a sound that promised nothing but trouble to its target, and right now, Minoru Mineta was under the full weight of that laughter. However, suddenly, and without warning, the laughter stopped, and Izuku’s head snapped up, eyes flaring gold with psychic power as they locked with the purple-headed pervert.

“Of all the dirty, terrible things in the world, there are a few that I will never condone,” Izuku said, stalking towards the small boy in rage. “And somehow, you’ve managed to hit most all of the things I can’t stand in one afternoon.”

However, before Izuku lost himself to rage, noises from the room’s other occupants caught his attention. As Mineta sat, quaking and gasping in his seat, Aizawa and Nedzu were struggling to breathe under the weight of Izuku’s psychic backlash. At once, Izuku clamped down on his mental might, forcing his roiling emotions under control, and reigning in the psychic storm at his command. 

“I apologize,” Izuku said, taking a deep breath. “I allowed myself to get worked up. Let’s finish this up and get this slime out of UA, eh?” From the look on Nedzu’s face, he couldn’t agree more. 

From there, the expulsion process was simple. Four signatures, one for each person present at the meeting, an extra file to blacklist him for any other heroic institutions, and a call placed to one Detective Tsukauchi, to get justice for Ms. Otsuka. All in all, it took no less than twenty minutes, from the moment Izuku entered the office, to the moment Mineta was hauled out by a beat cop, taken to the station for questioning by Tsukauchi Naomasa, the True Man. However, Izuku thought that twenty minutes was far too long to be around a pathetic, simpering pervert too afraid to face consequences for his disgusting behavior. Truly, any time at all spent around the little bastard was far too long. 

In any case, It was done, and just like that, the first day of classes at U.A. High School came to a close.

Chapter Text

Kamino Ward, Japan, Earth, 2335 AD

The dimly-lit warehouse smelled of death.

This was not necessarily a bad thing, however. In fact, some warehouses smell of death for entirely innocuous reasons, such as being the sites of meat processing facilities, or perhaps funeral homes. Perhaps it was the site of a police investigation, or perhaps this smell of death was merely an unfortunate combination of mold, rot, and various chemicals. There were any of a thousand things that could make a warehouse smell like death, without being concerning in the slightest. 

This warehouse, however, was none of those things, and in this case, the smell of death was a very, very bad thing.

On the floor, drawn in blood, crimson fresh and still glistening in the waning light of late afternoon, was a symbol of grim and terrifying purpose. It was the sort of thing that hurt one’s head to stare at for too long, something ripped straight from the works of Chambers or Lovecraft, a profane mark that seemed to wound the very ground upon which it sat. At each of the eight points sat a freshly mauled corpse, dissected with almost surgical imprecision, all surrounding a hulking purple corpse at the center. 

Standing over the purple monstrosity in the center of this occult sigil was a man. Or, at least, he used to be. Once, he was called Daisuke Shigaraki. Once, he was a man. Now, however, he was only All For One, a being so far diverged from its humanity as to be something else entirely. 

He had been a handsome man, by some measures, once upon a time. Tall and lean, silk-smooth white hair, unblemished skin to make a supermodel green with envy. Now, however, that superficial beauty was all but gone. His silky white hair was gone, fallen out years ago from exposure to the unfettered stuff of the Warp. His skin, once flawless, was now covered in ropy scars of self-flagellation, and self-carved words of praise and worship. His back was hunched, limbs long and emaciated, like some abominable thing from a nightmare. 

The thing that was once All For One hunched over the massive violet cadaver, whispering in a tongue utterly alien to the human mind as he rubbed a strange, oily-black mixture over the creature’s skin in strange patterns, spikes and whorls this way and that, coming together on the creature’s chest to form a strange, eight-pointed star. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, All For One’s head snapping up to stare at a humanoid figure of smoke, shining eyes piercing the gloom of the villain’s sanctum.

“Sensei.” the misty figure said. “Tomura reports some level of success with marshaling the attack group. He says that once a location is confirmed, he will be ready.” The scarred man looked at the misty figure with eyes that saw nothing, and yet saw everything .

“Good, Kurogiri. Very good. Tell Tomura to proceed with gathering the required intelligence. Until then, leave me.” Without a word, the mist intensified, becoming a swirling void of nothing, before fading entirely, leaving no trace of the man who’d once occupied the space. 

“Soon, All Might,” the man whispered, as if the object of his hate could hear him. “Soon, I will drink your blood from the chalice of your skull!” the man cried out in glee, throwing his arms in the air, before taking a steadying breath to calm himself.

And then, Anathema, he thought, crooked smile threatening to tear his face in two, You’re next.

Izuku woke up in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright in his bed as fast, heavy breaths racked his chest. As he calmed his racing heart, and schooled his mind back into control, he took in the chaos of his room. There were light objects pulled off of shelves and his desk, papers still settling, floating gently to the floor. Slowly, deliberately, he put all of his things back in their place, Using the simple tasks as a way to anchor himself in the material to keep his mind far away from the swirling psychic tide of the Empyrean. 

He had told others that the Warp had grown violent lately- this much was true. However, he had kept secret from all just how violent the Immaterium had become in the last few months. When he first came to this world, the warp was like a pristine lake, glass-smooth and peaceful. Indeed, the Warp of this life’s childhood reminded him more of the Aeldari webway than the Warp proper. Now, however, the sea of souls was chaotic, roiling, turbulent and malicious like the days before Old Night had struck. 

It worried Izuku a great deal, more than he could let on. After all, as much as his mom, and Katsuki, or any of the other people in his life cared about him, he couldn’t lay this upon them. After all, they couldn’t feel the warp in the same way that he did. They would never understand the feeling of connection to the sea of souls that was a simple constant of his existence. They would be concerned, yes, but none of them could see as he saw, none of them could feel the darkness hanging over the world like a cloud of unfettered evil. 

So, Izuku would press forward. He would find whatever was the source of the malignant corruption, and he would kill it. It was what he had always done, and thus it was what he intended to do.

However… These days, after confronting his ultimate failure, he really couldn’t say that, could he? His old ways had failed him, failed his sons, and failed the galaxy at large. How could he ignore such damning evidence that a change was necessary? It gnawed at him, in these early-morning hours, keeping him tossing and turning until his alarm finally told him to get ready for the day. 

On this night, however, he decided that simply wallowing in his misery wasn’t going to cut it. So, he grabbed his darkest set of clothes, his provisional license, and crawled out of his window in the dead of night. 

In truth, all he intended to do was clear his head, to take a midnight stroll along the rooftops to put his mind at ease, only grabbing his license as an afterthought, in case he ran into trouble. However, when he came upon a man being attacked by a group of thugs, he jumped into the fray without a second of hesitation. Landing between the four goons and their target, he sent a psychic blast in their direction, throwing them back against the walls of the dingy alley they’d chosen for their ambush. 

With a quick look over his shoulder, Izuku confirmed that the victim was unharmed, aside from smaller scrapes and bruises they’d sustained in the scuffle. However, by the time he was satisfied that the man was unharmed, the leader of the thugs had once again gained his feet. 

“Who the fuck are you?” the man slurred, obviously concussed from the nasty collision with the wall. 

“Does it really matter?” Izuku replied, pushing a small amount of power into making his eyes glow. However, the man only smirked, a mixture of overconfidence and a head injury driving him to 

“Yeah,” said the man, pulling a small gun from his waistband, shouting, “I ought to send some flowers to your grave!” 

As the gun was brought level with Izuku’s face, time seemed to slow to an imperceptible crawl as his mind processed the situation. It was a compact revolver, 9mm if he had to guess, rifling at a 1:10 right hand twist on a 2 inch barrel. It would be coming at him at about 1000 feet per second. Easily avoidable, but what’s life without a little drama? So, instead, he let the man fire, the report of the snub nosed pistol sounding out like an alarm in the cool night air. When the gunsmoke cleared, however, the thug did not find a dead body, like he’d expected. Instead, he found his target looking barely disturbed, examining the bullets in the palm of his hand. 

“You need to clean your weapon.” said Izuku, glancing up at the man’s perplexed expression. “And your grouping at this distance is shameful.” with that, he rushed in, forcing the man’s gun to the side as he delivered an elbow to the man’s jaw, sending him to the ground in a doubly-concussed heap. 

As the man’s body settled in the dirt and grime, Izuku gave the other three a grim smile.

“Who’s next?” However, the other three seemed to have given up the fight, and instead tried to turn and run. Oh no, you don’t , Izuku thought as he sent a psychic blast through all of them, their legs crumpling under them like wet paper straws. As he was zip-tying the men’s hands, a voice came from the dark buildings above. 

“Having fun, Problem Child?” Aizawa said, as he used his capture weapon to rappel down the side of the apartment building, before tending to the frightened civilian. 

“Couldn’t sleep, went for a run, found some punks.” Izuku said, shrugging as if to say ‘what can you do?’ “What about you, Eraser? Got much patrol left?”

“No,” Aizawa said as he sent the civilian away and notified the police of the pickup location on the HeroNet. “As a matter of fact, I was headed home before I heard gunshots. Should’ve known you had something to do with it.” 

The two of them continued in silence, neither one having much to say, until the flashing lights of the police transport arrived, signaling Izuku’s cue to leave. 

“See you tomorrow, Aizawa!” he said, as he jumped away, swinging himself onto a fire escape.

“Rest up,” Said Aizawa, “We’ve got a long day tomorrow, being the first Heroics class and all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Izuku, waving a hand carelessly. “You get some rest yourself, old man. You look like you could keel over at any minute.” Izuku knew that he should have let it go, but Aizawa was simply too fun to tease. 

“I’d already be asleep if it weren’t for a certain someone. ” the underground hero said, shooting him a glare. 

“Touché,” Izuku muttered, as he vaulted onto the roof and began the trek home. “Touché.”