Getting his brains blown out wasn't the funnest experience. Though he couldn't complain. He had felt no pain, and remembered nearly nothing of the incident, which was a good thing because if he did, he would remember the high he felt, and the dizzyness and the way all his cells thought he was dead, when he in fact wasn't. He would also remember the feeling of every organ shutting down. Not that he didn't know how it felt. It happened quite often, but he had come to learn that organ failure felt different depending on the organ.
He looked down at his hand in annoyance. His middle finger was twitching, and he couldn't control the muscles in the same hand. His left hand, which was his dominant one.
He scratched his bare chest, and adjusted his pants. He got up and used the bathroom, not bothering to shower because he knew he'd have to take one later anyway. He changed his boxers and but on some sweatpants. Looking up at his wall, he could see clearly the poster of All Might, the best hero ever. A red X was smirred over his face, leaving only his mouth untouched.
The poster gave him nightmares sometimes. He would dream of fulfilling his purpose in life, killing All Might, and he would dream of being surrounded by blood, by guts, by corpses of heros who were just starting out, and corpses of heros who've fought all their lives. He dreamed of all of this.
He was six.
Sometimes he'd wake up, his voice coarse from screaming, and he'd look to his right. Where the door to leave was. Looming over him, he'd see All Might, a red X crossed over his face, leaving his blood stained smile untouched. And he'd scream. And then he would realize that it was only his quirk playing tricks on him, and he would make the figure vanish. More accurately, it was one of his quirks.
Like his father he had many quirks. Four to be exact, that he was born with. The ability to manifest and manipulate darkness and shadows. The ability to manifest and manipulate blue, schorching fire. The ability to focus and unleash his energy, and the ability to heal his or anyone else's injuries. As long as he had energy to do so. That was the quirk kept him alive. It was the quirk that allowed him to recover brain cells, which shouldn't be possible. It was the quirk that let him recover any lost functions in his body.
It was the quirk they used to torture him. Of course, he didn't know it was torture. He thought it was training. Training to kill All Might.
With a sigh, he walked to his door, and grabbed the crank. He pushed it up and around in a half circle, before pushing the handle to the center and pushing on the door. Closing the door behind him, he looked at the normal looking door knob. The door was made like that so it could lock on the outside, not the inside. It was also made with the intentions of him not being able to break out or escape , even though he absolutely could.
Why didn't he escape? Because he was six, and his father loved him, and he needed to train to kill All Might, and he believed all the lies his father fed him, because he was six, and didn't know better.
What he did know was that he was hungry, and the faster he did his morning workout, the faster he'd get fed.
"Good morning Dad" He said happily.
His father was a mysterious and weird looking man. His face was twisted in of itself, due to a hard fought battle with All Might. A story the boy had heard many times before, and tubes were plugged in all around his body.
"Good morning Zero" he said " Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah. How long was I out for? Couldn't be long, cause my arm still ain't healed up fully"
"It's been a day. You've had a remarkable recovery. It was smart to wait for you to recover all of your energy before the experiment"
Zero frowned. If he had to guess, he was running on ten percent of his full energy capacity. All living things need energy to function and survive. Zeros quirk took it to a whole new level, giving him tremendous amounts of it, and great, life saving benefits.
" I should be good for tomorrow then" he said " I'll go train now"
Zeros body was not ordinary in the slightest. He had the strength to walk around barely encumbered by 450 pounds despite the fact that he was small and surprisingly scrawny, and he was proficient in his own style of fighting, which could be either lazy, or ferocious depending on who he was fighting.
His training used a combination of weights, push ups, sit ups, and a number of other things. His favorite training involved fighting the Noumus. His least favorite involved his healing quirk, but thankfully, he wouldn't have to 'train' with it until tomorrow.
The next day came with dread. He wasn't even allowed to wake up on his own accord. He was taken from his room, and spent his day getting pumped full of drugs. Steroids, adrenaline, Cocain, meth, ammonia, hell, he was forced to drink bleach, and every wound, side effect, and repercussions were healed by his quirk. After they were done with the drugs for the day, they took to mutilation. Cutting off his limbs, watching them grow back, and cutting him up again. He wasn't invincible though. They knew to step when his limbs stopped growing back immediately, and it took five minutes to regrow his forearm.
It was all for a greater good though. To kill the evilest man alive, All Might, and show everyone that heros weren't good. That was what his father told him. And he loved his father, because he was his dad, And dads don't lie to there sons, and sons do what there told, because he was six, and he didn't know better.
His father did.