Chapter Text
The class exited the theater to find quite a few differences to the outside room. For one, all the individual cafeteria styled tables were gone, replaced with one large, beautifully carved wooden table, akin to what one would find in a king's dining hall. It was laden with fresh food, perfectly glazed hams, well prepared vegetables, and everything in between. Most of them had their eyes wide at the sight, as beautifully prepared it was. Each chair had a name to it, indicating where they would sit.
All along the walls were different posters and statuettes of different figures, presumably from the fractures they'd be seeing. The Master Chief stood tall on a rocky outcropping, at his real height, in a pose in which he gripped an assault rifle in his right hand, pointing down to the ground. In his left, he held a data chip... with a hologram of a blue humanoid form, pointing onward.
Another was a set of three, animalistic robots. A bear in the lead, with a rabbit and chicken flanking each side. They were paused in song, ready to perform... but remained still, unpowered.
Another statue depicted Apollyon looking down at a ring with three combatants, a knight, a samurai... and a horned warrior.
Posters on the wall depicted different scenarios, different people. One had Davy Jones fighting the bandanna pirate, this time he wore a tricorn hat on top. Another showed a hunter in a gothic city, and other showed knights fighting... and another showed a masked man hunting others. More posters lined the walls, but the figures were unrecognizable. They seemed to be organized like movie or video game covers, posters showing the themes, characters, merely from a glance, all with their own titles, ways to distinguish each of these worlds from each other. It complimented the old theater's style, but also drew the eyes of everyone who viewed them.
Still, Nate put down the last dish, before turning to see them arrive, greeting them with a wave. "Ah. Yes. Well... After hearing through the door... I thought something a little extra would be required. Although, I didn't change the furniture or decorations, that happened on its own. I only made the food."
"Thank you, Young Penn." Yagi replied, noting that he was placed at the very middle of the table.
A dry laugh escaped the concessioner's lips, before limping back to the counter. "Right... Young... sorry, it's just, I mentioned it before?" Pausing at the counter, he called to the rest, as best as he could with his whispery voice, stating: "Come get your drinks at the counter. Take as much time as you need for dinner, she's in a... generous mood." Before ungainly climbing over the counter. This time he didn't fall to the floor, but instead managed to catch himself.
Everyone immediately lined up for what they wanted to have. They ranged from typical cola to water, and everything in between. Aizawa even got one of his juice packs. And he didn't say any remarks, or try to get in the way. Her promise, it seemed, raised the poor boy's spirits far more than anything else that could have happened... well, she could have at least tried to heal him completely. Izuku was the last in line, wanting to hang back and see if he was truly alright. "H-hey... um... are you really alright?"
"Hm?" He looked over at the green haired boy with his silver eyes. "What do you mean by that, Izuku?" His tone wasn't aggressive, or indignant, just curious.
"Well... um... you're still limping... and you have that scar..."
"Ah..." He nodded. "Izuku, some scars don't heal. My literal ones are because of the supernatural forces at work, but I bear far more inside. For the first time, I feel them start to... heal. So... I'm fine, Izuku. I do appreciate the concern, though." Smiling with his undamaged right, he pulled out an Allmight Cola.
Recieving it... the boy looked it over. It was Izuku's favorite... but he didn't leave immediately, instead asking, "Why don't you join us?"
He shook his head, "Sorry... but... I won't. Nothing against your group or anything, but... I've seen so many of you come through, watch, sometimes go home, sometimes erased from existence... I'd rather not get... attached."
Understanding the reasoning, and putting the erased versions of himself into the back of his mind, Izuku nodded, not pushing the issue further. Still as he walked towards the big table, he glanced back, only to see Nate looking at something. An old, physical photo, perhaps pulled from his pocket, and smiling at it warmly. Perhaps this is the best for all of us, then... Izuku thought, as he took his place next to Allmight.
Meanwhile, every one of the kids were... ecstatic. They were all having a big dinner with Allmight! Who wouldn't want to do that once in their life? In an alternate reality, no less... and the company, for the most part, was good. There were a few social pariahs... Todoroki, Aizawa and Bakugo, of course, but they didn't ruin the fun atmosphere. For once. Even though one silently wanted to.
Aizawa watched the whole table, the students chatting to each other, a small group listening to one of Allmight's old stories of an event in America... they were in awe of the action, the suspense... the thrills. Hell, that green haired boy, Midoriya... he hung onto every word as gospel.
These children have no idea what they're signing up for. In a way, I'm glad that they are here, and can see that heroism isn't all sunshine and rainbows...
Nate looked at the celebrating people with a hint of nostalgia... it was reminiscent of the celebrations after Nukke's defeat, in which everyone put aside their grudges, no matter how mundane or justified they were. It was a calm before the true storm, the one that would consume all.
The Pale Angel.
A title. One of many, a collection of things that she held dear as symbols of power. Names held power. That they both knew, but Nate was more upfront with retaining his connection to humanity. She wished to eschew her connection, become more.
And that desire manifested the day he and his fellow guardians confronted and tried to kill her.
But, with the promise of a good end, the wrath he felt slowly started to dissipate. He'd been a fool not to be wary, but as she reminded him... the Angel never broke her word.
A gamble, to be sure, but one whose odds he didn't care to determine. After all, with his life? No mortal human should have survived it all. Not even his errant grandson could escape death. But it was his choice, in the end. And allowing himself to hope after so long... couldn't be too terrible.
After dinner, most of the guests prepared for rest, a couple of the more curious ones, including the adults, took the time to investigate the new additions. Izuku was among them, although he was wary, and for good reason. His curiosity was majorly punished by putting his soul through the wringer. Mina's did too, and they were a both bit more subdued. Oh sure, they both had more confidence, but it was a quiet one. Hagakure attempted to raise Mina's spirits, which worked somewhat, while Uraraka and Jiro did the same with Midoriya, to great success.
As Yagi looked over each of these, Nate limped up behind him, allowing the wounded man to hear him arriving. He was looking at a poster with a green armored man, lifting a red humanoid up into the air by the throat, while an army of similar, yet varied forms surrounded them. Red was the main color, an angry and violent hue.
"Why are a lot of these alternate... realities on the verge of destruction?"
Nate studied the poster, and glanced at the blond man. "Because in my experience, it typically is."
He didn't reply to that, so the scarred man continued, leaning on his staff for support. "Life is already a balance, a balance of chemicals, conditions, and timing to begin with. Humanity is a similar balance. We often enforce peace with a balance of forces, usually military or economic ones. Peace isn't always a good thing, though. Sometimes... all it does is hide the truth of the world. This one here... Doom... a world beset by demons, and held at bay by one man, the Doom Slayer. He stems the tide, but not through peace... but in spite of it. Peace allowed the demons to take control, and through continued tolerance of their dark ways and rituals, eventually overcame the world, or worlds, both Earth and Mars. To make a comparison, Yagi... you are very akin to Doom Slayer. Villains are your demons, All for One your Dark Lord."
The hero turned to him quickly, surprised for a moment, but then nodded. "You've said you've seen a lot of us, multiple variants of fractures, or whatever, I'm not too sure of the technicalities. What would you advise?"
"What would I advise?" There was a moment's pause, before he replied, "The Doom Slayer's biggest problem, is that he cannot be everywhere at once. No matter how many demons he kills, be with his arsenal or through his bare hands... he cannot be everywhere. The hope he inspired, the fear he cultivated... it didn't matter because he is one man. Same as you. You have an opportunity here. I know what you're doing next. It's obvious to anyone in the know. Sure, pick your choice. But... don't leave them alone, don't let them be alone. Create a bulwark, show that you mean what you say, that everyone can be a hero. That's my advice, anyways." Looking around, he found most of the students had left, departing for the night. "Don't stay up too late. You don't want to be taken next. You may be strong, but not invincible."
"Thank you for your advice, Young Penn."
Snorting at the moniker, he left the number one hero be. There was no harm in letting him call him that.
Aizawa listened closely. The revelation that the Boogeyman existed was certainly nothing to scoff at, but the fact the number one didn't act like an egotistical ass, especially in how he told stories in front of the children... it didn't make sense. He always seemed to love the camera, the merchandising, and yet... he was discussing ethics with this... well, rude person. His claims were ridiculous, for a start, but then everything about this was wrong. Against all logic, it exists.
In the end, he'd keep a wary eye on him. On the both of them. Yagi was a bit buffoonish, and Nate clearly had a goal in mind with him. Of that, he was absolutely certain.
Kyoka Jiro looked outside the window. Apparently each one had a different view, one that seemed hardly possible. Izuku's had a snowy forest, while Jiro's had... New Mombasa. Somehow, her window led to the fracture that he had survived. It was incredible, in a way, but a bleak reminder that this place was dangerous, and that she'd be stepping up to the plate. In a place unknown and dangerous.
However, she really tried to fall asleep. The city noises were... calming in a way. She had been used to them as ambience for years now... but there were, what was it, things which were off about them. Completely different. Car engines were more advanced, sounding different. Ads were speaking of different things, of different places and times. It was hard. So, Jiro focused on different things. Her heatbeat. The ones of her neighbor's... the ever calm sound of ruffling feathers and energies unknown... wait, what?
Bolting up, she found the Angel in her room, sitting on a chair, but looking at her prone form. She was smiling sweetly, before placing a finger over her mouth in a shushing gesture. Heart racing, she obliged the goddess and kept quiet. The two waited in the dark, her eyes the only light besides that from the window. Seconds passed... before the goddess near-whispered to her: "Be not afraid, young Jiro. I am only here for two reasons. The first... is because I applaud your efforts for camaraderie with both Uraraka, and most importantly, Midoriya." Smiling, she continued, "Midoriya bears many scars, many not visible to the mortal eye, and I'm glad my bringing you here could help some of them."
Despite this, the angel was clearly trying to change the topic to the next topic. "Well, that closeness is something I am going to have to break next time. I am giving you this courtesy because of the good I've seen you do in your time here, but I am choosing you in the next rotation."
"Is... there a reason... besides that?"
"Not particularly. Think of it as not having to concern yourself with it later. The fracture in mind will definitely give you a new perspective, just as it has with Izuku. One by one everyone will have a lesson akin to yours, in a manner of speaking. In the end, it will be... good for you." Standing up, she nearly bumped her head on the ceiling. "Ah... heh... have pleasant dreams, Jiro. Your journey will begin tomorrow."
With a flutter of her wings, she was gone. With nothing else the violette slumped down her bed, trying to sleep. Closing her eyes tight, she willed herself to slumber, as best she could.
Morning wouldn't come soon enough.