Chapter Text
Izuku sighed as he let his head fall back against the seatrest, turning to the side to look out the small circular window at the expansive ocean beyond. The gentle churning of the waves, the dappling rays of light as they broke against the surface of the water, the slowly drifting clouds that stretched out towards where blue met blue and the sky and sea melded into a single horizon.
The cabin of the plane was much fancier than he’d imagined. His knowledge of flights had mostly consisted of images of cramped rows, luggage piled overhead, attendants pushing trolleys up and down cramped aisles offering small packets of peanuts and small drinks. Not a leather-lined interior with over stuffed seats and a polished wooden table that looked like it belonged in a board room, not a plane. And since when did planes come with plush carpeting?
He chuckled and shook his head. He really shouldn’t be surprised. He was on a privately chartered plane courtesy of All Might, after all. It only made sense that it was far more opulent and prestigious than he had assumed it would be.
A number of Class 1-A at UA University was set to visit I-Island for their world-renowned Expo, and a flight had been arranged by the university for ease of travel and to ensure the participating students were appropriately overseen by faculty. The snag had come when All Might, or rather, Yagi Toshinori, had asked to speak with Izuku in private the morning of the flight. As the Ninth bearer of One for All, and Yagi’s successor, he’d wished to speak to Izuku about their trip to the technologically advanced island, and what they would see while there.
Or more correctly, who they would see. They would be meeting with David Shield, an old companion of All Might’s from his earliest days as a hero, and David’s daughter, Melissa, who considered the Number One Hero to be an Uncle of sorts. They weren’t fully in the know about One for All, so he’d wanted to discuss with his successor how to best handle the topic until he could reveal the truth of the matter to them. Their conversation had run longer than intended, and as a consequence, Izuku had missed the flight the rest of his classmates were taking to the island.
All Might had assured him that he would handle the matter and arrange alternate transportation, which was how Izuku found himself aboard the overly lavish private jet. It was an unusual experience, and not one he thought he would ever find himself growing accustomed to, but it was nice to do at least once. The view of the Atlantic Ocean from such a position was one he was sure he wouldn’t forget.
“You doin’ alright back there kid? It looks like we might have some storms brewing up ahead, so I’d advise making sure you’re buckled up, it could get a little bumpy.” The intercom crackled with the deep voice of the pilot, a friendly enough man who’d greeted Izuku with a broad smile and a clap on the shoulder.
“R-right! I’ll- I’ll make sure to do that.” He fumbled for a moment, locating the seatbelt that felt out of place on the decadent plane, buckling himself into the seat. He craned his neck to get a better look out the window, noting that the clouds ahead were indeed growing darker, the winds growing stronger.
The ride became somewhat rougher over the course of the next hour or so as the plane was buffeted by the heavy winds, thick sheets of rain appearing to pelt down the windows and obscure the view of the sea. The deep roars of thunder and sudden flashes of lightning brought a gnawing feeling of anxiety to Izuku’s gut as he watched the bright streaks cascade from cloud to cloud, a majestic but humbling sight. He could feel the shudders and bounces of the plane as it steered through the winds and the clouds, but it didn’t seem to concern the pilot, so he settled his thoughts with that reassurance.
As the next hour slowly passed, the storm refused to lessen, instead seeming to only grow more intense as the frequency of the thunder and lightning increased, the once almost pleasant rumbling of the plane growing to be a concerning shudder and rocking as he was held to his seat by the restraints, knuckles whitening in a tight grip on the arm rests.
“Sorry about the turbulence kid, the forecast didn’t call for storms like this on our flight path. No need to panic though, I’ve flown through worse. It’ll delay our arrival a bit, but we should be perfectly fine.” Izuku swallowed nervously, unable to find the words to respond. He was thousands of feet above the ocean in the middle of a storm. To say he was out of his comfort zone would be a gross understatement. But he shut his eyes and grit his teeth, trying to push the dark thoughts creeping at the edge of his mind away. It would be fine. This happened all the time. There was nothing to worry about.
But the storm continued to strengthen. The plane rocked and dipped, battling its way through the ever increasing strength of the winds as Izuku was bumped and jostled back and forth, grateful for the seatbelt that kept him from becoming a pinball within the confines of the plane.
And then came a blinding flash of light as an unearthly roar of sound filled his ears, the cabin suddenly going dark. It was only a moment before it was illuminated in a dull, red glow, but it was clear that something had gone wrong. The plane no longer felt like it was putting up a valiant fight, pushing forward through the storm. It was limping forward, weathering blow after blow, struggling to stay aloft.
“Control! Come in, Control! This is Delta-Zero Alpha Mu! I repeat, this is Delta-Zero Alpha Mu! We’ve lost our right engine and we’re losing altitude! Come in Control!” Izuku could hear the edges of panic creeping into the pilot’s voice as he frantically tried to establish radio contact. The plane shuddered again, rocking against the winds. No response came.
His stomach churned as the plane dipped to one side, nearly turning him on his side. He felt himself lift from the seat, jolting back as they churned to the other side, a sudden gust tilting and whipping the plane as it struggled to maintain its course. There was a jolt and a stutter before the motions became rougher, less controlled. It was a continuous bouncing and rocking from side to side, up and down, each movement less predictable than the last. The pilot’s tense voice broke through once more.
“Shit, hang on kid! We’ve lost both our engines. They’re down, but not out. I’m trying to get them back up, but it’s gonna be a bumpy ride while we ride this out. You don’t need to panic, I’ve been through stuff like this plenty of times before.” The shudder in his voice didn’t instill Izuku with much confidence, but he silently nodded and clung to his seat.
They tumbled and rode through the rough winds of the storm, the dull roars of thunder and muttered curses of the pilot as he tried to restart the engines offering little comfort. There was a brief moment of stillness and calm, and Izuku thought that perhaps they’d found a calm patch, or the engines had kicked back on, but those hopes were dashed by another blinding flash of light and the burst of red and orange light along the wing outside Izuku’s window.
What little control the plane had seemed to slip away as it fell entirely to the mercy of the storm as it was tossed to and fro, the burning light along the wing offering not hope but despair.
“Mayday! Mayday! This is Delta-Zero Alpha Mu! I repeat, Mayday! Mayday! This is Delta-Zero Alpha Mu! We have lost all engines and our right engine has caught fire! We are attempting an emergency water landing! I repeat, Mayday! Delta-Zero Alpha Mu has lost all engines and is attempting an emergency water landing! Kid! Hang on tight! This is gonna be close!”
Izuku barely squeezed his eyes open, watching as the world through the window turned almost vertical as the plane began a rapid descent through the dark and stormy clouds, the bright flames of the engine slowly spreading across the wing before the world was consumed in a flash of white and everything drifted into an inky blackness.
He awoke with a hacking cough, the stinging taste of sea water clinging to his throat and lips. A shiver ran through his body as he felt himself bob and turn, buffeted by the waters around him as they surged up and down in the storm. His fingers clung desperately to the smooth metal and fabric beneath him, the only thing keeping him afloat. He slowly forced his eyes open, battling the torrents of rain and the ocean spray whipping into his face.
The patch of sea was dark, shrouded by the storm that still raged, the pitch blackness beaten back by the burning pyres of twisted metal that dotted the area. He could make out one of the plane’s engines, torn from the wing, as it sat several meters away. Other various hunks and parts of the plane shifted amongst the waves, scattered and shredded across the waters.
A brief glint caught his eye, as he turned his head upward, squinting to peer through the curtains of water still pouring from the sky. A lone, pale yellow light swept across the sky before blinking away. A few moments later it returned to repeat its journey, side to side, slowly and repeatedly sweeping across the darkness. He stared at the light’s path for several long minutes, his shaken mind trying to place what it might be.
“Is that… a lighthouse?” He murmured. It seemed the only reasonable explanation. And if there was a lighthouse, that meant there was land. Steeling his nerves, he pushed off of the debris that had held him, and began to make his way through the churning waters towards the beacon.
It was slow going as his arms and legs were stiff and cold, forcing them through the choppy seawater was quickly sapping his strength. He struggled to keep his breathing level, the foam and spray spattering across his face with every stroke, every gust of cruel wind that the storm sent his way. But slowly, he forged his way through the frigid waters, the slowly turning beacon gently beckoning him towards it. After what felt like it may have been an hour, but could have been as short as only a few minutes, he felt the waters give way to carved stone. He scrabbled forward, heaving his soaking form onto the steps, pausing to take gulps of air, finally freed from the tow of the ocean currents.
After he caught his breath, he pulled himself to his feet, his clothes dripping and weighed down by the cold waters that soaked him to his bones. He began the slow trudge up the stone steps, catching himself as his shoes threatened to slip on the worn rocks, their edges all worn and carved into smooth surfaces by the constant waves.
As he slowly ascended the staircase, roughly hewnrock began to give way to purposefully carved and placed stone and masonry. They bore signs of once sharp edges and careful shaping, but like the steps before, their sharp edges and corners dulled and wore away to a rough roundness. And finally, the steps leveled out to a short walkway, the walls lining it topped by metal lanterns, sharp corners and edges still holding their shape this time, but the material itself fading and beginning to rust. Most of the lanterns stood dark, but faint light flickered and sputtered within a few of them. Dying lights clinging desperately to a purpose that had long been forgotten.
The walkway ended with a massive set of bronze doors. Their colors were dulled and fading, but he could vaguely make out the imagery of what appeared to be a man, their arms extended above their hand, that adorned the entryway. He stepped forward, the squeaking of his sneakers against the stone pavement startling him as he realized the sounds of the ocean and the storm had faded away as he’d drawn closer to the building.
He pushed against the doors, expecting the creak of hinges, or rusted resistance from a building that had clearly been abandoned long ago. Instead, the doors swung forward easily, revealing a dark interior. He glanced behind him before turning back towards the darkness. At the very least it would be a shelter from the storm.
As he stepped inside, he jolted as he heard the heavy doors slam shut behind him, leaving him left in total darkness. He ventured a few steps deeper into the structure and jolted as suddenly numerous lights flickered to life, revealing the interior as swelling instrumental music began to play, jittering and skipping like a cracked record.
It was a stark, stone room, lined with lanterns like those he had seen outside. The room was mostly bare, the eight walls that made up the octagonal shape bearing no decoration. The single overwhelming exception being the massive and imposing statue of a man, glowering down at Izuku from his perch high on the wall. The deep brass that composed his features revealed a stern visage, the carefully styled hair and deep lines of his face recreated in great detail. It gave way to the stern lines of a metal suit, the careful folds and presses forever enshrined in metal, glinting in the damp lighting.
Beneath the grand figure a fading and worn banner was hung. Once a deep crimson, its color had begun to give way to light red and threadbare white where time had taken its toll, even locked away here in its obscure vault. The gold lettering across the banner was fading as well, but it was made with sturdy enough material and care that the message was still legible.
“NO GODS OR KINGS, ONLY MAN.”
He tore his gaze from the ominous man and his message, down towards the stairs lining either side of the room. With no way back, he stepped forward, and began his slow descent down the stairway.
He followed the curvature of the wall as it led down to another chamber. The room’s walls curved upwards into a dome, and his sight was drawn to the center, where a strange spherical object gently waited in a pool of water. Despite its round shape, it was all hard edges and brutal design. Stark metal piping and welded plating composing its outside, a short walk and a glance revealing a similar interior, even the seat inside looked hard and unwelcoming. Everything about this place had been built around those ideals it seemed. Those sharp, defined edges, deliberate shapes, order forged and built from simplicity. It begged for the beauty of its form and function to be seen, freed from dressage and fanciful colors.
He ran his hand across the floating sphere, eyeing its unwelcoming interior as he turned back towards the stairs. Something about this place felt deliberate, like it was asking him to venture further, begging him to lay eyes upon it once more.
A bout of nerves and a quick trip back up the stairs revealed that the heavy brass doors at the lighthouse’s entrance would not budge. He gave up pushing against them after several long minutes, panting as even Full Cowl hadn’t been enough to make them even stutter from their position.
He reluctantly returned down the curving steps, back to the sphere. He placed a foot inside, and tested its balance with a push. It barely shifted, some internal system keeping its place within the pool steady. He clambered inside, seating himself within. He found a harness that he gratefully pulled over his shoulders, the stench of old leather filling his nostrils as he disturbed them after an untold amount of time.
Once he’d secured the harness, he glanced around the various instruments and panels, trying to decipher how this machine worked. He tried to quell the anxious furor building in his gut, but his path back had been sealed, and it seemed as though his only way to leave was through this old vessel.
Some trip this was turning out to be.
He finally landed on the large lever next to the seat. With a quivering hand, he reached up and pulled the lever downward.
The door swung shut, sealing with a sharp hiss as the craft suddenly shifted downward with a jerk before it began to smoothly and swiftly descend. The panic in his chest rose as he watched the depth meter next to the porthole begin its descent.
As the craft moved, a canvas was drawn over the porthole, a projector sputtering to life as it shone images across the make-shift screen, the baritone rumblings of a man’s speech echoing in cracked pieces over the speakers.
The images were fuzzy and faded if they worked at all. The speech was broken and disjointed, the mechanics failing and slowly breaking as they were brought to life for the first time in ages. What little he could make out felt alien and unfamiliar. A few of the images struck a chord with his memory, old history lessons about the Pre-Quirk world. He blinked with wary surprise.
Was… was this from before The Fall? How had this remained hidden for so long, tucked away in some forgotten patch of ocean so far removed from the world that no one since the advent of Quirks had discovered it?
He was pulled from his thoughts by the clearing of the audio for a moment as the canvas screen retracted.
“-I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose… Rapture.”
Izuku couldn’t prevent his jaw from going slack in awe at the view that graced the porthole of the submersible vehicle.
He was somewhere along the sea floor, the rocky outcroppings and sandy spreads offering evidence of that. Schools of fish darted across the view, followed by the whipping and twisting body of a shark as it followed. A deep bellow echoed through the confines of the bathysphere, he finally placed the name to the vehicle, as he glimpsed the massive form of a whale as it arced through the depths.
But what was truly awe-inspiring was that they weren’t just swimming amongst the ocean floor.
They were weaving and navigating around a city.
Here at the utmost depths of the ocean, rising from the craggy sea-floor, was an entire city. Towering buildings and massive structures, interconnected by glass sealed walkways. Billboards flickering in faded neon, their imagery and naming speaking of a time long since past. Some buildings stood dark and imposing, while others briefly flickered, the lighting battling for its place amidst the darkness of the sea floor. Some stood still lit, a testament to the engineering of whomever, or whatever, had been responsible for constructing an entire city at the bottom of the ocean.
The bathysphere followed its path, slowly leading to a set of metal rings, the gaps at the bottom composing a make-shift track. The submersible jolted as it set on the path, slowly moving forward. The rings shuddered and groaned, their rusted edges and worn connections straining after being unused for so long.
Lettering flickered to life atop the rings, slowly illuminating wording as he was pulled along its course.
“All good things… Of this earth… Flow… Into the city.” Izuku murmured along with the lettering as it glowed.
It finally came to a stop before it began to slowly ascend, surrounded by metal walls. It finally came to a rest, as the seal of the bathysphere hissed and slid open.
Izuku unbuckled the harness and slowly stepped out, scanning around the room. Suitcases and bags lay scattered across the floor, signs and posters dotting the floor. He took in the sight of the faded and worn luggage, the dusty and illegible signs, the sight of the city visible through a large window. The only sound that could be heard was a slow dripping sound somewhere off in the distance. The floor was spattered by old stains and gouges, the stench of decay and rot filling the air.
Stepping around the ancient and discarded belongings, Izuku pressed a hand against the thick glass that held back the weight of the sea, letting out a shallow breath as he tried to wrap his mind around the reality of the situation he found himself in.
“...Where the hell am I?” He whispered against the glass, the silent city, its hard edges and fading lights offering no response as the city of Rapture greeted its first visitor in nearly two centuries.