Chapter Text
The year 2168
In a dark room, deep underground, a tall, white-haired man smiles, a devilish grin that would send shivers down the spine of any Pro Hero. He observes the screen in front of him, his red eyes searching the live recording as he gestures to the short, stout man that stands beside him. “So, you say the boy is indeed as powerful as me, Garaki?” he murmurs beneath his breath.
“He has the potential to be just as powerful as you, if not more. His quirk not only lets him take or give quirks, but he can also make copies of quirks that only he can use. He does not have a maximum threshold either, or at least none that’s been found in testing.”
Abruptly, the scarlet eyed man laughs, a peal of deep, rumbling laughter that shakes the room itself as he claps his hands like a small child. “Quirk evolution truly is a wonderful thing, isn’t it, Garaki? I am quite interested to see how he develops, and maybe I’ll even slip him a few quirks if I have the chance. Moving on, let us commence with our earlier plans for the evening. Garaki, release experimental Nomu’s 1,7 and 8 in 5 minutes.”
“As you wish, Master.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In a simple apartment, a girl sits, smiling as she watches her sister play heroes, making swoosh noises as she imitates her favourite hero, All Might. “SMAAAASH. HAHA, BECAS IW AWM HERE, HAVE NU FEAR!!!” the little girl chirps in a cheerful voice as she twirls around on the floor. Then the world explodes in a flash of red and orange.
A little boy sits under a tree, glaring at his hand in a park, commonly known for its size and inclusivity of heteromorphic humans. He signs, standing up as he gets ready to make his way home right before he feels intense pain and the world falls into darkness.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
5 Hours Later, on Tokyo News CNHT
“We are reporting live from the scene of the previous villain attacks that started not just 5 hours ago and ended only 47 minutes before this live report. There were three powerful villains on the scene of the attacks believed to have been part of an attack by the extremist group Gundar. This group openly states their distaste for people with ‘villainous’ type quirks. All attacks took place in Tokyo’s Toshima, Kita and Itabashi wards, which are well known for the population’s acceptance of people with ‘dangerous and villainous’ quirks. Horrifyingly, roughly 40% of the inhabitants of the previously mentioned wards were killed in the brutal attack, totalling approximately 1,820,868 dead. Fortunately, before the terrorists could cause any more damage, a top 10 Pro Heroes group could defeat each one. However, the 7th ranked hero Syphon is in critical condition, and the 9th Ranked Hero Talon was killed by the villain attacking Toshima Ward. A memorial will be held this Sunday. That is all for this report on Tokyo News CNHT, and we will continue to update our viewers on the situation as it develops.” the woman standing in front of the camera finishes with a shaky smile, throwing a look behind herself towards the gaping crater that looks almost bottomless. “Jesus Christ, that’s horrible. What kind of villains could do something like this,” she mutters virtually to herself. The cameraman next to her looks up as he folds the massive portable camera and stuffs it in the pack that lays between them.
“I heard some of the survivors said they heard other people call them ‘Nomus.’
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
9 Years Later at Aldera Junior High, Mustafu City Japan
Someone was saying something. What was it? Oh, right, he was in class right now, and the teacher was explaining a tricky question. Trystan sighed, bringing himself out of his daydreaming as he looked up at the teacher, letting his messy hair flop over one of his eyes. “Dammit, I should pay attention more.”
“...And that’s the easiest equation you can use to work out questions like that. So if you have any questions, please come see me after class is over,” the teacher finished dully, not even trying to hide the sheer boredom in his voice as he began to pack up his teaching supplies.
Trystan stood up, shouldering his backpack and trying his best not to make eye contact with the few people who were bothering to look at him. Or, more specifically, the specially-made rubber gloves that he wore every day.
“Honestly, I’d rather just prefer if they ignored me as everyone else does,” the red-eyed boy thought to himself bitterly.
Just as Trystan thought he could manage to get out of school without attracting too much attention, he heard a very familiar voice calling out to him, “Yamoto, Yamoto!” He felt a slight smile tug at his face as he turned around, seeing the bouncy green hair he had become so accustomed to seeing over the past two years.
“Hey, Midoriya-kun! How are you doing?” Trystan responded in a polite, neutral tone as he began to walk towards perhaps the most empathetic person who has ever lived. Compared to the world they lived in, this guy almost seemed to belong in some wholesome manga. “Wait, what happened to your notebook?” he asked, starting to get agitated, already having an idea of what had happened to it, eyes flickering between the massive scorch marks on both it and Midoriya’s shoulder.
Izuku winced, quickly shoving the notebook in his open bag that was hanging over his shoulder, “O-oh, it’s nothing, just Ka-Kacchan got a little angry again”, he responded sheepishly looking down at his feet.
“Dammit! What the hell is that guy’s problem anyway?” Trystan groaned to himself mentally as he sighed out loud. “C’mon, Midoriya, let’s start heading home. We still need to do that study session with Iato for the finals in a few months.”
Midoriya perked up, that excited gleam in his eyes that was so familiar to his best friend. “Right! I know this shortcut we can use to get to my house. It’s just past an underpass near here! I think Iato said he was going to head to his house before coming to mine…” he continued, slowly descending into muttering as Trystan patiently waited for him to finish. When the freckled boy finally realised what he had been doing, he let out an embarrassed “eep” and looked down, trying to hide his beetroot red face.
“Well, lead the way, dude!” Trystan stated cheerfully.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Goddamnit, where the hell did he go?! Only Midoriya would grab onto the lag of freaking All Might! Trystan thought to himself. He was frantically running around, trying to find the building he thought he saw Midoriya land on with All Might. When he found the place he suspected the two were on, he looked around, checking that no one was around him.
Thank god no-ones here. Let’s try combining cement resistance, polarity, and hover. Trystan thought to himself. After his combination of quirks was complete, he tested it out on the walls of the buildings surrounding him, pleasantly surprised it worked. Soon, he could float up perfectly in between the alley walls, slowly rising towards the top of the building.
At the top, he grabbed onto the railing, undoing the quirk combination and grabbing out a simple strength quirk to grip the handrails. Then, just as he was about to pull himself up, he heard two people talking. Namely, Midoriya and some other guy Trystan didn’t recognise.
“-ou can’t be a hero.”
Trystan froze. It almost felt like the building itself was holding its breath.
“Now, I must be off. Head down the building stairwell. If the door is locked, wait until someone comes. Someone should unlock it eventually,” was all the red-eyed boy heard before a great gush of air almost flung him on the railing. Trystan squeezed his eyes closed and gripped tighter onto the metal, nearly breaking it. Then the sound of crying reached his ears.
Precariously, he pulled himself up onto the building, swinging his legs over the rail before noticing Midoriya, his friend, covered in dirt and sludge as he cried his heart out on top of this building. The emerald haired teen saw his friend at that moment.
“O-oh, Trystan! S-s-sorry, for...for leaving, I mean,” Midoriya said hurriedly, looking down dejectedly and rubbing his red eyes.
“Hey Midoriya, are you ok? What happened before All Might left? That was him who jumped the building, right?” Trystan asked, concerned, as he sat down next to the verdant eyed boy.
“He-he just gave me a reality check. Have I been deluding myself all this time, huh? ‘Can the quirkless kid be a hero’, of course not! All it took was All Might telling me himself.”
“Midoriya, no, don’t listen to him, of course, you-”
“I CAN’T! I know I can’t.” Midoriya clenched his fists as his tiny, almost frail-looking body trembled. “Anyway, Ishouldgobye!” he almost yelled out as he ran towards the stairwell, slamming open its door open just about leaping down the stairs.
“WAIT, MIDORIYA!” Trystan shouted out, scrambling up, trying to get to the stairwell too, before something made him stop. He didn’t know why, but he sat back down and lay on his back, thinking back to the words his father had told him those years ago.
All Might is merely a flashy, loud-mouthed oaf. He does and says things that are the prerogative of a hero, but inside he is malicious and evil, just another greedy, power-hungry person who has risen to the top of this so-called, Perfect Society.
Of course, he hadn’t believed his father, especially after finding out what he was. After all, All Might was the Symbol of Peace.
And he had left someone who was barely a teenager crying after breaking his heart and ending his dreams.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Somewhere, a teenager lay on their bed, contemplating the day’s events.
Elsewhere, a man observed said teenager through a camera, frowning at their less stellar than progress.
On the street in Mustafu, a boy knelt before a blond man, weeping as his broken dreams were put back together by the man who had shattered them initially.
