The heavy slab of stone slid in place, closing the sarcophagus, the red mark of the slayer glowing unnaturally on the black stone.
Never had the slayer been in peace and it wouldn't come for him neither in his eternal slumber at the top of the ancient mountain, nightmares plagued the man, memories of long forgotten battles plaguing his mind, the scars from the recent ones pulsing with newfound energy; if he didn't have the time to care about the phantom pains those gave when he was blinded by anger, tearing demons apart, now, with his arms shackled to the coffin, he was feeling every single time a zombie got too close for comfort, every time an archvile burned the hair on his arms, every time a marauder's dog bit him.
The coffin shook, then it shook again, in the end it stood still, no noise could be heard from the mountain, the corpse of Maligog, otherwise known as Bob, made a macabre staircase to the top.
From the bottom of staircase a buzzing noise originated from thin air, it got stronger and stronger, almost deafening, a blue circle appeared and out of it walked a man, a young one, he was seemingly asian, his hair short, nearly nonexistent, and his glasses were thick, a nametag dangling from his neck gave an indication of who he was: intern at UAC Atlantica.
The voice which had accompanied the Slayer over his last adventure was back, the young man shuddered at the sight of how high he would have to climb but he was undeterred, he had a mission to accomplish.
The ascent took days, the man had no water nor food, and he wasn't keen on trying his luck with rotting demonic flesh, so his climb became slower and slower, he cursed himself for not bringing any of the essentials, but his mission had to be as secret as possible, nobody would've helped him reach the Slayer, the maykrs could've killed him even for merely suspecting it.
The intern could see the top, he just needed to climb one of the horns of the enormous demon on which he had spent the last few days.
Only problem was that the horns, being made of bone, didn't give as many holds or rotting wounds in the flesh in which he could put his hands and feet, making his ascent harder.
He was so damn near he could nearly see the coffin on top of the mountain, a quick glimpse of a black square-ish stone was all he needed to be reinvigorated, as much as a starving man can; the intern, in his hope derived from the sight of his destination, committed the biggest mistake a climber could make: he carelessly put his hand on a protrusion of dubious stability which, following the absolute will of Murphy's Law, gave out under the intern's weight and crumbled.
The intern could hear the sickening sound of bones shattering and organs exploding his body would produce when it hit the ground hundreds of metres below, in a last ditch effort he slung his other arm over the top of the horn, his hand grabbed the tip of it but, in virtue of living up to the name of demon, the tip itself was sharp as a knife and it pierced right through the intern's hand.
The macabre hold worked as a lasso, stopping the man's fall at the price of his hand and any hope of ever moving his fingers again; the pain was immense but the intern, now already at the top, bulldozed his way over his body's screams of pain, slowly staggering towards the coffin.
The stone construction was as big as the colossus of a man it had devoured like a python, the lid was heavy, so heavy it seemed to scorn at the intern's futile attempts to make it move, not even budging.
The vibrations caused by said attempts seemed, however, to have awoken the creature inside of it, like a bear whose sleep gets interrupted by a hiker who seeks refuge from the cold in the wrong cavern, a guttural growl was heard, accompanied by the sound of metal clanking together, then snapping, something moved inside the sarcophagus, Athena was once again hitting Zeus' head to get out.
THUM
The coffin shook, almost jumping in the air from the force which was trying to dilaniate it from the inside.
THUM
Once again, the coffin shook, the whole mountain seemed to resonate with its vibrations.
THUM
The symbol on the coffin started glowing, it's eerie red light spreading through the cracks which were appearing along the whole length of the lid.
THUM
CRACK
The upper coffin exploded in a myriad of shrapnels of stone, hitting the intern, but he didn't care, he had accomplished what he had bet his life on, he was ready to abandon himself in death's sweet embrace.
The Slayer emerged from what was supposed to be his eternal slumber, his comfy bed reduced to smithers; he grabbed the chain connecting his right ankle to the base of the coffin and pulled, the chain snapped in half, then he repeated the action with the chain bound to his left ankle, methodic as a hunter skinning his catch for the day.
The man, although weaker since the death of the father had taken away his godhood, obtained through the divinity machine, was still stronger than any men could ever dream of, the apex of adaptation thanks to eons of slaughter and battles.
Noticing the creature struggling to stay alive near his bedding the green-clad warrior stopped his remembrance of old battles, the man that laid on the floor next to him was familiar, after a few seconds he recognized the intern, as to why someone would go so far for him, the Slayer didn't know, he was puzzled to say the least.
The intern raised his head, blood clouding his vision, he opened his mouth, handing a disk to the Slayer "This….coordinates….your home…..from your DNA".
Now, the Slayer had seen a lot of things, heard a lot of stories, but this was the first time he had ever been so stunned by a phrase; he understood how the intern may have done it, reverse engineering the arrival of the Slayer in this universe by getting a part of the man himself, which would hopefully be used to connect the two dimensions? Universes? Planes of reality?
The Slayer didn't know and he didn't care, he hoisted the intern over his shoulder, the man was surprised and emitted a few grunts, unwilling to be saved, but Slayer had never fought the armies of Hell for an adrenaline rush, he wasn't a battle maniac, he fought to protect humanity, to avenge.
The buzzing noise of the portal opening could be heard, the portal looked different, almost cartoonish, but that didn't deter the Slayer, he couldn't afford to miss this chance.
On the other side of the portal four black figures were fighting a woman with white rabbit ears, a bald man was observing the fight, a manic grin slowly spreading on his face as he saw how well his creatures fought.
The six were in such a tense battle that nobody could afford to miss the sound of a single pebble being moved, as missing it could mean not noticing an attack, so, when a buzzing sound started invading the halls of the underground structure everything came to a standstill, multiple pairs of eyes focused on the blue-ish circle that had appeared out of thin air.
A massive figure emerged from the portal, the Slayer had come back, before the warrior's foot could stomp on the ground the Slayer pressed a button on his armor, starting the speakers integrated in his suit, blasting one of the songs which had accompanied him through the ages: The Only Thing They Fear Is You.
Miruko, hearing the song, was kind of vibing, but she didn't drop her guard, she didn't know if the massive man was friend or foe, and neither did the Nomus, doctor Garaki was the first to react "Kill him and bring me his body, I don't care if it's technology or a quirk, I want that portal."
The heroine understood, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but before she could say anything the Nomus sprinted towards the figure in the green armor, too fast and too far from her to intervene and protect the man, she doubted anyone other than the top five heroes could survive an attack from all four high-end Nomus; she grimaced, another, potential, ally dead.
If someone was to tell the Slayer that the first thing he would see when coming back to his homeworld would be demon look-alikes he wouldn't have believed it, but seeing the Nomus charging at him he smiled, after an indefinite amount of time in the coffin he needed a stretch.
The Slayer's hand shot forward, faster than the Nomus could register, and grabbed the head of the closest one, his fingers digging in the creature's exposed brain, he squeezed, shattering bones and making the head explode, brain mass flew everywhere, the Nomu screeched in pain, his regeneration enough for it to feel the pain, not enough to save it, the doctor hadn't expected any hero to be so brutal, but the Slayer was no hero.
The man threw the intern to the human-rabbit hybrid "Sav...him...need help." eons of not using his voice made it difficult for the Slayer to speak, but now that his vow of not talking until he killed the last demon had been lifted he intended to rediscover such a forgotten ability of his body.
Before Miruko could register what was happen, before the shocked doctor could wrap his head around the death of one of his creations, before said, remaining, creations could recognize the death of their companion the Slayer charged at them, chainsaw in hand, and butchered the first one he encountered, the screams of the creature, too human for comfort, resonated through the halls of the facility, at the entrance of which a group of heroes were stationed and, hearing the sheer sufferance emanating from the sound, they stopped on their tracks, frozen in body and mind.
One of them, a girl with frog legs, managed to bring her hand to the communication device in her ear "Miruko do you copy? What is the situation?"
"I, I, I have a civilian injured, I'm coming to your position."
Asui Tsuyu was puzzled, confused, so she asked what everyone that had received the transmission wanted to know "What about the Nomus?"
The response wasn't what they were expecting.
"They are being slaughtered, by a vigilante who teleported to the fight,"
A vigilante, a citizen who fights unauthorized with his quirk, does the Slayer fit in this category? In theory he doesn't, but reality is never theory.
The Slayer, born in this earth, did in fact have a quirk which, laughably, would've never been discovered if he hadn't been catapulted in another plane of existence; during his first adventure on mars, his first contact with the demonic forces, he had compiled his own quirk registry, an holographic copy of which he always carried in his armor, as to never forget his origins.
The registry was brief, but straight to the point:
Quirk: Rip and Tear; the user can convert the molecules in other beings' blood into whatever he wishes, common uses are nutrition and hydration, using iron and carbon to create ammo and armor and so on
The quirk had been really useful during his crusade against hell, an unlimited amount of ammo was always handy, the Slayer had discovered that by burning his enemies' flesh he could restore more health, the only type of ammo he wasn't able to create were BFG charges, because pure energy or whatever those scientists called it wasn't present in the blood of demons.
Under the surface the fight between the Slayer and the last remaining Nomu was coming to an end, the explosions and the hits on the walls it created had weakened the structural integrity of the cave, but that didn't stop the battle.
The Slayer, after propelling himself towards the Nomu with a ballista shot, brought out the super shotgun and fired it at point-blank against the Nomu's face, the pellets dilaniating the flesh and hammering through eyes, teeth and brain mass, the Nomu recoiled, trying to get away from the monster just for the time needed to regenerate an eye, only for a lock-on rocket to explode in its gut, leaving bones and organs exposed, the skin destroyed leaving a circular sight of the parahuman anatomy.
The Slayer whipped out his combat shotgun and fired four cycles of full-auto on the Nomu, obliterating what was left with a final rocket.
This last explosion destroyed the last pillar which supported the cave, prompting the ceiling to fall towards the floor, trapping those still under it.
Doctor Garaki was the first to be hit by a particularly heavy boulder, his guts painting all around him.
The Slayer didn't even try to protect himself, instead he charged a ballista shot and aimed upwards, waiting for the right moment to shoot.
On the surface the battle between heroes and villains, well, only one villain, was raging, fierce as the fire of the number one hero Endeavor; said hero was preparing himself to shoot a pillar of flame towards the white haired figure that was causing such destruction, the man had his arms raised, fire enveloping his whole body, swirling around his muscle-bound frame like the tongue of a snake, feeling the air before striking, waiting to spring like a coil, when the earth started shaking.
Sounds of explosions could be heard from within the soil, sections of the battlefield were starting to cave in, apparently the tunnels below weren't strong enough to resist such a fierce battle, but the explosions were an unknown factor, the only person with such a quirk was on the surface, and no Nomu had ever been able to produce explosions.
Suddenly the ground under Tomura Shigaraki, now under All for One's control, collapsed, the earth reclaiming the space those tunnels stole from her; Shigaraki, undeterred, simply floated over the pit that had formed, thanks to one of his quirks.
A red beam of light, slightly resembling an arrow of a spear, but impossible to clearly distinguish given its speed, shot towards the sky from the center of the collapse, a beacon of a power yet to be known, nobody knew if it was to bring hope or despair. From the beam's path through the wreckage a chain burst to life, a serrated hook on its tip gave away its purpose: flesh was to be stabbed, flesh was to be teared apart, pain and anguish were to be delivered to whoever and whatever was unlucky enough to meet its search for blood.
The hook planted itself in Shigaraki's leg, the tip cutting through muscle and bone, creeping through the tibia and the fibula, the symbol of despair howled in pain, he brought his hand to the device he deemed demonic, could it be more ironic than that? The devil of this hearth impaled by a weapon designed to slay true demons saw such a weapon as demonic!
All for One was about to reduce the hook to ash, removing the object in order to start regenerating the mauled part of his limb when the hook was pulled downwards, the teeth biting the bone, stopping the pull, as a result whatever had shot the hook was coming towards the man.
BFG division blasting from his speakers, the Slayer flew towards Shigaraki's body, retracting the meathook once he was fast enough, chopping the leg off, all but cleanly, and delivering a punch to the lanky man's jaw, cracking bones and destroying teeth, one of which had been knocked so hard it shot out of the gum, piercing the palate, the pain was rather peculiar and intense, but that didn't distract All for One, what brought everything to a temporary halt was the sound of the severed leg hitting the ground, the Slayer landing with a roll right beside it and, with a contemptuous gesture, he kicked the leg away, towards the floating man.
All heroes stood still, some marveling at the sheer power shown by the newcomer, others were nearly puking thanks to the atrocious display; students in their heroic classes learned how to perform non-lethal takedowns, even the most brutal pro heroes weren't as violent as the armored warrior.
The most seasoned ones, however, noticed one thing about the Slayer, it was glaringly obvious to them, such violence wasn't committed just for the sake of it, no, it was calculated, the fastest way to submit a rabid dog is by making sure it doesn't stand up again, and this wasn't a simple suppression, this was an execution: the warrior's movements were powerful and fluid, no energy was wasted in unnecessary flares or showmanship, his actions quick, simple and effective, he acted as a hero from the dark age of quirks, when success was the only thing that mattered.
All Might grimaced, he didn't like how a single man had, momentarily, reduced his long-time nemesis to a cripple, he knew someone had to win but he didn't know if the heroes would be able to stop whoever won said battle, he just had to hope; however something felt familiar about the man, dancing to the death with All for One, but he couldn't figure out what and he didn't deem it his priority.
Someone else instead had already recognized the Slayer, and they were running towards the fight, clashing against the tide of evacuating citizens.
All for One, in the meanwhile, struggled to remember who this foe was, he didn't believe someone would randomly decide to go for the kill, if not for some deep reason; he had recognized the look in his opponent's eyes, the look of a man ready to kill, a man who had no remorse about what he was going to commit, a man who had killed before, a man like All for One.
The king of crime knew the value of psychological warfare, he had to fake not being in pain as to be seen as invincible: the best victory is the one obtained with no battle.
"Would you care to enlighten me about the reason for your…." he said, waving his leg around like a teacher with a stick, before reattaching it to the bleeding stump, letting his regeneration kick-in "impromptu assault?"
His voice could be heard through the now-desolated city, eliciting a tremor of, if not fear, reverence from all the bystanders, the Slayer was unaffected, a silent gurgle starteng building in his throat, fighting to escape after eons of silence.
"You…. reek" he cocked his Super Shotgun "of hell."
"It is quite a compliment I dare say, I pride myself in being this world's Satan. What might you do then to the devil incarnate?" One for All had never cared about what he regarded as superstition, but he found it amusing and useful at times.
Laughter erupted from the heroes' lines, in the improvised first aid camp, the intern laughed, blood erupting from his throat at the smallest movement, but he couldn't hold himself back, there, unable to be carried to a hospital because his condition was too critical, in a foreign land and in a different plane of existence he had heard the funniest thing ever.
His words were almost a whisper but they carried so much force everybody heard them
"You are no demon….and even if you were….he is the Slayer."
"You were dead the moment he set his sights on you."
The Slayer flexed his legs, the ground cracking from the sheer pressure, he released such power, rocketing towards All for One like a bullet, shooting a few rounds of plasma rifle along the way, then came the show, waltzing in mid-air the two didn't trade blows, it was a one sided match, rounds after rounds after rounds of lead, steel and plasma entering All for One's body, attack after attack from the man were either dodged or guarded with the chainsaw shield by the Slayer.
And even then, after a seemingly endless discharge of ammunition, a flame belch erupted from the green warrior's launcher, setting All for One on fire, a punch to the gut making him puke blood which, under his teary eyes, transformed in what had become his doom: ammunition, shells, bullets, weird batteries, his own blood had become the weapon to finally kill him. He couldn't allow it, he was descending into madness.
Him, the all powerful being, being stabbed and mauled by his own blood.
That, however, wasn't what made him lose his sanity, no, it was the look on his executioner's face, he had finally realized what the roles were, he was no longer in control, a look of pity, the look an old person gives to a youngster who has no knowledge of his limits, drunk on power and spiteful, his hybris his downfall.
Endeavor prided himself in being a rational man and his status as the "Flame Hero" wasn't obtained through sheer luck, he knew everything he needed to know about fire to the smallest detail, and even then he couldn't help but describe the flame torturing in a raging inferno the worst villain in all of history, it was unnatural, unholy, it was simply beautiful.
He almost missed the person running past him, a woman, her physique wasn't exactly ripped, but that didn't matter, what mattered was the expression on her face, her eyes were almost popping out of their sockets from how intensely she stared at her objective, the black, almost ebony, bags under said eyes gave her a look of fanaticism, her wrinkly face pulled into a smile no woman should have in such a situation; Endeavor acted, fearing that said woman was going to interfere in the fight, helping All for One, so he tried to grab her.
Inko Midoriya did one thing for the first time in her life: she pushed, she pushed with all her might, launching Endeavor backwards, freeing herself from the hold and continuing her desperate run. Katsuki Bakugo noticed the scuffle, he knew his honorary aunt hadn't taken to her son's disappearance well, who wouldn't, the wrinkles on her face, her greying hair and her stress-induced eating proved his theory, but he couldn't stand watching her become a pawn for what would've become his fated enemy, hadn't the so called Slayer arrived.
Katsuki Bakugo was a battle junkie, but he was a smart one, he knew he was no match for All for One and he knew would not be able to compete with the mysterious warrior for a long time, but he was a hero, and a hero saved people, a lesson he learned way too late thanks to the disappearance of the only person who mattered, the only person who saw him as Katsuki Bakugo, not a wonderchild, not a future hero, the only person to ever try to save him; so he activated his quirk, he channeled One for All in his explosions, propelling him towards his aunt, his bones nearly shattering, he didn't expect to start accelerating, it hit him at the same time as his face hit the ground, it was Inko's quirk, she had pulled him towards her to make him fly past her head; Katsuki saw an apologetic glance thrown his way by the green haired woman while she continued to run towards the fight.
Nobody else tried to intervene, the number one hero and a promising hero student bested by an overweight woman was another shock added to what the titanic had delivered, paralyzing them.
A crash thwarted everyone's attention back to the fight, the projectile-gnawed, fist-deformed, scarred, burnt, broken body of All for One hit the ground, slammed by the Slayer.
The warrior landed right beside his opponent, raising a hammer made of red energy to the sky, the sun shining grimly on the dark metallic handle of the hammer.
At its peak the hammer fell, a disheartening star shooting past.
All for One saw it, judgement time had come, his sins were to be expiated, hell coming for him disguised as a hammer, he had come to his Doom.
All for One saw the hammer, and then he saw no more, his cranium squashed by the weapon, his legacy destroyed by the man who had destroyed hell.
The Slayer left the hammer on its newfound anvil, a hellish moniker of the battle, and turned around but he was too slow, the body of a woman crashing into him, tears cleaning the dirt and blood from his armour, purifying his soul.
"Izuku, Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. You're here. You're alive. You're…"
The Slayer didn't let her finish, he completed his rotation, throwing his helmet away, his companion now useless, on the bane of hell's face appeared something that would've made Samuel Hayden reboot his oculary sensors a few times believing it a faulty sight.
The Slayer smiled, he knelt down, hugging the woman, and said
"Mom, I'm home."
"I'm never leaving again."
A couple of crack scenes
Final fight vs Davoth: Davoth: Have you nothing to say to your creator? Slayer: projects Rick Astley on his face, starts the music "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, eternal." Davoth: Nooooooo *dies by stabbing+
Slayer with the unicorn skin vs AfO: Slayer, with the hammer as a magic stick: skidaddle skidoodle you are now a cripple AfO: that doesn't rhyme *dies by getting BONK with the sentinel hammer*
Now, this was a long one-shot, but TAG2 came out and the idea came, I had it for quite some time but didn't know how to write it.
other stories will get updated, sometime in the future, but not that far off