Chapter 2
My SOS is not My Surrender
There is a 12% chance that Uraraka Ochako will accidently cause his death. A 7% chance that she will inadvertently tip off one of the League in her investigation, and a 21% chance that before she manages to deduce his situation he or his mother will end up cremated, compressed and smashed, or cut to ribbons.
Which means there is a 59% chance- give or take who she ferries information through, what databases she accesses to do research, and if Katsuki Bakugo gets involved- that he will be able to rescue his mother without her dying.
Izuku Midoriya- Page- does not like to consider what the remaining 1% might be. He's already given up on that option- too unlikely- too extreme- too unpredictable.
It isn't worth the brainpower to consider.
He has more important things to worry about.
Specifically getting Mr. Compress out of an armored van alive.
"You better do this job clean." Dabi doesn't need to give an 'or else,' the man is cruel and merciless. A fact that Izuku has learned a long time ago.
"Perimeters?" He forces his voice to be calm, the singular word he's spoken level and emotionless.
He wants to snarl it, jump through the comm link and use Overhaul to disassemble Dabi into a pile of dust and ash.
But if he does that then the alarm will trigger, and his mother will die.
He hasn't been a slave to his Father, Shigaraki, and then the remnant of the League for eight years just for her to die at the end.
"Fuck if I care. Waste 'em all. Just get the dumbass out," Dabi snarls back.
"I want to see some blood!" Toga chimes into the conversation.
"You always want blood."
"Understood," Izuku replies, muting the comm and stretching his limbs.
Toga's request could be ignored because Dabi was running the op. And since Dabi's first sentence gave him no parameters- it let him do this clean.
Part of him wished he'd kept Search- but returning it to Ragdoll had been too important a principle for him to keep the Quirk.
And lying to Shigaraki, saying that he must not have been able to handle it with a copied All for One had been more satisfying that Izuku'd like to admit.
But it left him at a disadvantage, running across the rooftops, eyes on the convoy carrying Mr. Compress. There was no telling how many Heroes were tucked into the truck, no telling who or what Quirks they had. It was a suicide mission for Dabi and Toga to send him down after Mr. Compress.
He could open the door and it could be Endeavor or Hawks in there. Hell, it could be Eraserhead. It could be Lemillion. And trapped close in with a man that could erase any advantage he had with a glance or the man who'd inherited All-Might's power was not where he wanted to be. He wouldn't be able to get away from them. Either of them.
"Engaging." He murmurs, jumping off the rooftop.
There is an instinct in him- likely from before the prototype surgery and implantation of All for One, that reminds him that his bones will still break, and his skull can still crack. But that instinct he tucks away to the back of his mind as he scrounges through his veins for the powers he never wanted.
"Air Cannon."
A double palmed blast of air turns his plummet to the concrete into a somersault onto the top of the armored truck. He lands on his feet, anchoring himself with a dozen Rivet Stabs into the top.
The convoy jerks, and the car in front of the van slows as the back doors open- Chargebolt and Red Riot peering out the open doors.
Not a terrible combination.
Izuku slaps his hands onto the van, activating Overhaul. His fingers sink into the steel before it folds back.
"Page! Stop!" One of them calls but he drops inside the claustrophobic van.
It occurs to him too late that Overhauling the ceiling might have affected the lighting in the van. He drops down into the darkness and is immediately assaulted.
Pain sparks in the back of his head as the attacker takes out his legs and slams him into the steel floor.
"Oh? Page? Good to hear from you. I'm in a bit of a bind." Mr. Compress is less than phased by the turn of events.
Izuku grunts, taking another kick to the side before her grabs the offending leg and pulls.
The attacker stumbles, collapses, head hitting the hard bench before rolling away. Izuku takes that lapse in combat to place a hand on the floor and rid the van of its ceiling.
In retrospect- he should have waited. He had the upperhand in the combat in the dark, and his opponent would have had to manage keeping hold of Mr. Compress and battling him in an enclosed space.
With the roof cleared, it reveals that his attacker is a man in a karate outfit. Izuku blinks, considering the tail the man uses to stand, and then stretches a hand out, activating Rivet Stab. He doesn't have to hurt him, just push him out the back of the van.
In retrospect, getting rid of the ceiling was likely a mistake. The darkness forced the Hero to balance attacking him with defending Mr. Compress. In the sunlight, the Hero no longer had to worry about that. And it also allowed for other intrusions. But retrospect does him little good when Red Riot appears, arms crossed in his signature pose as he deflects the cluster of Rivet Stabs.
The two Heroes don't bother with a nod of acknowledgement- and the tail-weilder springs over Red Riot, coming down with the extra appendage. Izuku blocks it, fingers curling around it before he tightens his grip and throws the man back into Red Riot.
Izuku springs back up, feeling the genetically enhanced muscles in his legs stretch and flush as he jumps back forward, centers himself- and dropkicks Red Riot and the Hero in his arms into the back doors of the van.
The hinges screech their protests as the two smash into it. Steel crumbles and groans and the hinges scream and pop. The doors shear off their hinges and topple backwards- the look of shock and surprise evident on Red Riot's face. The steel doors hit the speeding asphalt and they disappear into the traffic behind them in a squealing of tires and blaring of horns.
"Gotcha!" Chargebolt shouts as something clamps onto Izuku's left shoulder.
He rolls, slapping one hand and sending a Rivet through its side of the wall. Izuku rolls, straining slightly as he tumbles to the outside of the van. It's hazardous and difficult to wrap his entire body against the side of the van, but with an extra Rivet on his feet he manages.
"Aimed!"
Izuku jerks, seeing the shadow fall over him as Chargebolt heaves himself up onto the side of the wall.
"Fire!"
Yellow lightning arcs through the air, completely ignoring the steel wall separating them and instead eagerly diving towards Izuku. He jerks to the side, positioning his left shoulder behind him.
The lightning doesn't redirect. And Izuku has a split second.
A molecule of time to make his plan work.
To force activate Overhaul and rewrite the surface of his skin. To soldier through the initial pain the Quirk creates and speed through the process as the electricity vaults through the air.
Nerve cells laced through his skin to redirect the flow up and around his eyes- away from the liquid there. Across the surface of his right ear, down the back of his neck to the targeting system Chargebolt hit him with. Then into his palm to disperse into the truck.
Then liquid fire slams into him. Electricity burning through the newly constructed nerves on his skin. It sears a new definition of pain into his vocabulary. There's a short stop as it fries the circuitry in his comms before it's tingling down the back of his neck and discharging into the Rivet Stab he's sent into the van.
He's paralyzed for three seconds. Overhaul and the slight regeneration Father decided to give him working overtime to keep him functional. Chargebolt woops in victory, but it is short lived as the burnt skin sloughs off and Izuku thrusts one hand up.
Five Rivet Stabs burst from his fingers and Chargebolt lets go of the wall to avoid it.
Izuku swings himself back around the wall, activating another Quirk in his repertoire. The black goop climbs up the back of his throat, but he holds it in his mouth until he's in line of sight with Mr. Compress.
"Any day now Page." The villain quips calmly, holding up his still-cuffed hands.
"Working on it." He replies, and the black goop spills from his lips, splattering onto the floor and coagulating by Mr. Compress's feet.
"Not a chance!" Chargebolt jumps back in, palms sparking as he surges his Quirk.
But close-quarters-combat is an art that was beaten into him. Before he met his Father it was taught to him with meaty hands yet to know how to throw a true punch- the difference in skill made up for with the enthusiasm and bite of nitroglycerin. After he met his Father it was burned into him with harsh blue flames fueled by blind hatred, knives that cut for the sake of seeing blood pool in the wounds, and the fearful thrashing of a man too scared to face himself.
CQC was not a domain in which Chargebolt could have won.
And his purpose in being kept on the convoy had already been accomplished.
Izuku ducked the swipe of electrified palms, combining the action with a low kick that took his legs out. He caught him by his ankles, surgically enhanced strength allowing him to heave the young man up and into the air.
Chargebolt flails, unable to control himself or his fall as he comes back down on Izuku's waiting palms.
"Air Cannon."
Chargebolt's trajectory alters with the blast, and the fall turns into a launch to the nearest building top instead of a slam headfirst into the steel floor of the van. Izuku watches him long enough to make sure he's judged the power correctly and see the Hero smash into the edge of a building and topple over it to the safety of the roof. Then he turns back to Mr. Compress.
The black goop he spat out earlier has thickened and now encompassed the man up to his chest. Mr. Compress is still less than impressed- childishly holding his cuffed hands out towards him.
"Freedom- my incompetent assistant- would be greatly appreciated."
"Let Dabi and the other's know Chargebolt fried my com." Izuku says calmly, walking over and taking the cuffs in his hands.
He could flex and shatter them, render the specially made steel and tempered alloy cuffs shards of broken metal on the floor- but he liked annoying the League any way he could get away with.
It's a game.
So instead of shattering them he produces a set of picks and from one of the pockets in his cargo pants and adjusts the angle.
"Really?" Mr. Compress asks.
"Yes sir," Izuku replies evenly, focusing on the feel of the tumblers in the cuffs.
He taps the first pin in, sliding the turn-rod in to hold it before moving onto the second.
"If you had even half the strength Shigaraki-sama had you'd be able to shatter those things like shards of glass!"
He does. Just because his surgery was a prototype didn't mean that the results weren't of the same caliber.
"I apologize for my weaknesses. Kyudai-sama only saw fit to give me baseline enhancements as Shigi-"
"Shut the fuck up I know." Mr. Compress grumbles, crossing his ankles and adjusting his arms- forcing Izuku to adjust with the new angle and catch the third and final pin before he loses it. "You were the prototype for Shigaraki. Nine's was the prototype for you." He huffs. "Still- I think giving a copy of that Quirk to you was a bit of a waste of resources, but…"
"Father said I needed to be useful." Izuku repeats the phrase he's forced himself to repeat- or perhaps believe- one more time.
Mr. Compress huffs as the cuffs clatter to the floor. "Useful." He shakes his head. "Report back once you've cleaned up your mess. We'll replace your comm. You have an hour. And then you better be back."
An hour is plenty of time with his comm down. An hour unsupervised and unrecorded was gold.
An hour where he could freely speak.
An hour where he doesn't have to listen or mute the mindless chatter Dabi and Toga engage in.
"Understood." He nods as the black liquid consumes and compresses around Mr. Compress's form. It smushes together, and then he's gone.
And Izuku is left blissfully alone in the back of a wrecked and torn apart armored van.
The van finally slows, and Izuku vaguely wonders if that means the driver has keyed into the sudden lack of combat in the back- or if he's coming out to handle the fight himself. Either way, Izuku doesn't feel like sticking around to find out. Sirens are ringing in the distance. He has precious little time to get his plan moving in full- and the Hero he needs won't be coming to the destroyed convoy, he'll be calling her elsewhere.
It was definitely her day off- but when negotiating with villains that didn't really matter. And if there was a bit of personal interest in the villain that requested her- that was only all the more reason to go.
"Uravity," Page greets.
His stance is calm- but that's not unusual. He's always seemed in control even if he isn't calling the shots. Like he knows how everything is going to turn out or has at least a good idea of it.
One of his hands is outstretched, a black and green ribbon-like object extending from his palm and digging into Chargebolt's bicep. The Hero in question sparks and shocks himself intermittently, a dopey smile on his lips.
"You're overloading his Quirk." She observes. "Careful you don't kill him."
"Chargebolt has a recorded limit of using his Quirk for 2.4 hours consecutively after going into overload. During the power crisis caused by Supercharger he maxed out, but remained fine after managing the city power grid for that time," Page replies calmly. "I'm just keeping him out of the conversation."
"Yee Yee!" The Hero responds, flashing them both a thumbs up and a grin.
Ochako huffs, shaking her head. Jirou was going to kill her. "What do you want?"
"Now," he says simply. And it brings her back to the message he'd given her on the bench. And how Jirou of all people had solved it, noticing that it was morse code.
Not now.
"What?"
"Save my mother." Page says calmly. "If you can save her, if you can get to her before anyone in the League can kill her, then I can give you the League: Dabi, Toga, Spinner, Mr. Compress, Twice, if you can catch him, I can even get you Kurogiri."
It was all a bit too much and too good to be true.
"Why?" She asks, stepping forward and to the side. Page doesn't react. It occurs to her that he might not even need to move to attack. Much like the original All for One.
That was a terrifying thought.
"Inko Midoriya," he says. "That's my mother's name. The League is holding her somewhere. I need you to find it. And save her."
It's all just a bit too much, way too fast. "Who?"
"Find her." Page reiterates, and the Quirk-controlling-ribbon retracts from Denki's arm. "Nothing else matters."
"Wait wait wait! Where do we start?" She takes a handful of steps forward
"Holdings," he says, "any and all related to the League. Abandoned warehouses they might have taken over, underground complexes. You have to do this on your own. If I do…" He locks eyes with her.
She takes a step forward. Reducing the distance between the Hero and the villain to a scant six feet. Close enough she can see his eyes.
Brilliant vibrant emeralds- shining with emotion and something she can't quite put into a word. He blinks, gives her a look before he takes a step back.
"You have to save her," he says, "no matter what."
And she wonders if there's a reason he says that because he pairs that sentence with a pained look. Like there's a chance this won't work out and something will happen. But she doesn't know what. She doesn't know him well enough to know what is going through 'Page's' mind.
It takes three weeks for them to find any meaningful information about who Inko Midoriya is- or was.
According to all reports, she and her son- Izuku Midoriya- died in a fire that consumed their apartment complex. No bodies were found in the aftermath, but when no one turned up and no trace activity was found in bank account statements and other related searches turned up empty- the case was closed and the two were marked deceased a few months later.
Ochako hums, spinning the small photo of a young Izuku Midoriya between her fingers.
Page had to be Izuku Midoriya.
He was about her age, had those same hopeful green eyes underneath the pain and the grit that he'd somehow fallen into. There were too many similarities for him to be anyone other than Izuku Midoriya.
"Uravity! You ready?"
She jolts out of her chair, shoving the miniature picture into her pocket. "Ready!" She smiles at her boss, Ryukyu.
Their break had been finding out what warehouse the League frequented. And figuring out that there was a complex of them that linked together underground. A lot of that information had been figured out via animal's through Anima.
She nods, flashing the Pro a smile. "Let's go save someone!"
Ryukyu chuckles and laughs, sauntering off down the hallway. "That's why you're one of my favorite sidekicks."
The Heroes picked a terrible day to raid. A truly fucking terrible day.
"Page!" Dabi roars, flames bursting to life on his fingers as he heads towards the portal Kurogiri had so kindly made for them. "I want these Heroes' heads! Do you hear me?"
"Yes sir." Izuku nods, takes a step back as he watches Toga, Mr. Compress, Spinner and Twice all jump through the portal.
"Page," Kurogiri says. Like he's programmed to. Like he's been forced to.
Izuku hums, attempting to dust off the dirt that had saturated his jeans. He pulled his long-sleeved shirt down as well, hiding the latest cut Toga had made only moments ago on his arm. This one would not scar; Too shallow, too short for it to mend improperly.
"I'll see you around Cloud." He says the name of the man Kurogiri once was, flashing him a smile.
"And you. Izuku."
There's an understanding. Forged somewhere in the frantic tentative scramble for freedom. Created by the shared servanthood and the revelation that each had their own past and burdens being held over them.
Kurogiri cannot disobey.
Page cannot disobey a direct order.
"If we're lucky, I'll see you again." Izuku says, stepping through the portal.
If he did his math right, then there was less than an 11% chance of Kurogiri being alive should one of the League get away today. Less than a 45% chance that this raid the Heroes were working on would actually succeed with the full League going to retaliate.
There was a 73% chance that before his mother was rescued one of the League would realize his intentions- or even his betrayal and prevent it entirely.
The darkness of the portal warped and disappeared as he stepped out into the warehouse turned warzone.
If there was any organization in this, it was lost the moment the fight boiled out of control. Dabi and his brother are out of sight, but flames of assorted colors clash and burn on the ceiling of the warehouse- superheating the metal roof and turning the chilly air into that of a sauna. Toga has disappeared, but that doesn't mean she hasn't copied someone's Quirk through their blood.- though she had yet to wipe his blood of her knife when she went through the portal. That's always a possibility with her. And it's unknown whose blood she had at the start of this- though she had yet to wipe his blood of her knife when she went through the portal.
He knew she couldn't copy his Quirks with his blood, only his appearance and that was enough to know she couldn't turn the tide of this war.
Twice had exploded. Literally. All over the place, dozens of black-body-suited men clambering one over the other to battle Heroes.
The others he couldn't find.
But he had standing orders, and the fact that a pair of metal doors mounted into the floor of the warehouse was unwatched and suspiciously chained closed- had to be ignored.
But it did not have to be overlooked.
He marched through the fight, activating Rivet Stab to fling both copies of Twice and Heroes out of his way as he made his way to stand guard over the door. He positioned himself on top of it- glaringly obvious.
And it pays off when dragon Ryukyu smashes through the warehouse wall and focuses on him.
And when Dabi shouts form somewhere behind her- "DON'T LET HER THROUGH BITCH!"
Air Cannon blasts him across the warzone and directly into Ryukyu's path. Her first notion that he's there is a when a muscle coated fist smashes into her scaled shoulder.
And then Rivet Stab.
Green and black lances tear through rows of hardened scales and tender flesh in the moments it takes the Hero to fling him away. He's spinning but still in control- arms clasping together as he fuels up Air Cannon again.
It's a calculated risk.
Hurling through the air across a warzone of Heroes, Twice-duplicates, and thousands of eyes on him, but it's one he has to make if Uravity and the others have any chance of getting in before Dabi or anyone else can clear the dungeon here.
"Air Cannon- maxed." He grits out, feeling the compressed air inflate and explode from his palms.
There's a tremor in his bones as the force echoes through them. Where surgically enhanced muscle and bone shutter and rattle in a way that make his teeth ache but it achieves the result he wants. And if there's a screeching of steel as he launches back across the battlefield- it's lost in the noise of the brawl.
He's blown back into Ryukyu's face, fist clenched, and teeth gritted as he slams a fist into her surprised jaw. Bone cracks and enamel cannot bear the force of the blow. He feels his pinky snap the same time he sees one of Ryukyu's teeth leave her mouth.
It doesn't stun her however, the lost of a tooth- and likely the breaking of her jaw- doesn't slow the Pro Hero down as her tail wipes around to hit him. He's prepared for it- knew her endurance was up to par. So he braces for it by coating his forearms with muscle fibers – courtesy of the Quirk Muscular was too stupid to use for anything more than brawling and murder.
The scaled appendage slams into him, and he tumbles through the air before smashing into the concrete floor. He flips, tumbles and skids across it- taking the legs out of a dozen people before finally skidding to a halt.
When he stops a nearby Twice-double cackles out a laugh and slaps him on the back, but there is no joy in the atrocity he's committed. He's injured a ProHero. He's wounded a protector of the innocent and a keeper of the peace.
But he doesn't have a choice.
"Page!" Toga's in his ear now, and her knife slides across his collarbone, metal teasing flesh but refusing to cut just yet. "You wrecked the door- dimwit."
"I'll fix it," hHe replies, rolling his shoulders slightly. The action causes his skin to press up into the blade.
The edge cuts into tender flesh. He can feel the heat of blood soak through the collar of his shirt.
"Heroes got in. Too late." She whines. "Get in there and clear out the dungeons."
It's an order she'll regret shortly.
It's an order she didn't think through. Too distracted by the blood oozing into his collar to realize she's given him exactly what he wants.
But there is still a 78% chance that someone else will notices and only a 22% chance no one will question him rushing into the dungeon that contains his mother.
And that chance flickers and turns to ash as fire sears a hole through the ceiling, Shoto falling through it a moment later in a ray of blue fire and shattered ice. The Hero spins, his costume smoking, before slamming into the concrete by the wrecked door.
Dabi appears at the edge of the hole and the combat grinds to a halt with his laughter. There is a stumble with it, a shuttering gasp as something in the atmosphere changes and burns away.
Perhaps it's the hope in Izuku's chest.
He isn't sure.
"Page!" Dabi's voice rings through the warehouse- echoing off the walls and targeting him even in the chaos. "Take his Quirk!"
The hope flickers and dies in his chest.
Izuku swallows, feeling the shift of weight as nearby Heroes suddenly turn to him. Shackles are thrown, propelled by a Quirk he isn't familiar with.
He rolls under then, palms slapping the ground as he creates a wall around him.
As soon as it's up it shutters and shakes as a fist punches through the modified concrete. White glove. Yellow suit. Sugar Rush?
The fist retracts and another one slams into it and the barrier shatters with the third blow. He rolls out of the falling rubble, hands again hitting the ground but only long enough to create a pillar of concrete to launch himself again across the warzone.
He's streaking through the air, teeth gritted and eyes wide as he watches a cluster of purple spheres and a squirt of acid reach for him.
Air Cannon.
He blows the attacks away, flipping forward and above his target and out of control this time because this was not in his plan. Shoto should have won his fight. Shoto should not have lost. Shoto should have-
"Shoto!" As he crashes into the dirt and rolls to his feet he hears it.
A woman.
He staggers forward a step, wincing as he presses a hand to his head. He landed harder than he thought. Warmth bleeds through his bangs and it's sticky and wet when it runs across his cheek and drips off his chin.
"Shoto!" The woman screams again as he staggers back for the doors.
Ah.
Creati.
A fist slams into his gut and he doubles over it, feels the Quirk underneath the skin as some instinct sends a Rivet Stab through the attacker's wrist. Quirk: Double Punch. He rips it out, holds it for as long as it takes to slam his own fist into the man's gut and triggers it. The man staggers, and a Rivet Stab shoves him out of Izuku's way and returns the Quirk.
Another Hero intercepts, slides in front of him as he climbs the shattered steel door that once blocked the dungeons below the warehouse. He doesn't care. He has orders to follow. And those orders keep him and his mother alive.
And his chances of getting out of this mess just dropped to zero with Dabi's eye on him.
The Hero rushes him. A flurry of kicks that Izuku back pedals through and catches. It's on the fifth kick that Izuku ducks it, slams his shoulder up into the woman's knee, grabs her thigh and pushes her back. She stumbles and falls, and he slams a foot down in her chest.
Bones crack and her next breath turns into a wheeze.
He steps over her.
And Creati rises.
In another life, he would have called her attractive and beautiful and perhaps even a friend. She was- by records at least- his age, and if he got his wish of going to UA as a child they likely would have shared a class. But as she stands in his way all he can manage to see her as is a threat to his mother's life.
He flexes his fingers, feels the nails shift and sharpen. He does not need Muscle Augmentation to fight her- does not need that disgusting Quirk to battle a woman that he does not wish to anyways.
"Move." He asks quietly.
She shifts the staff suddenly, up into a defensive posture instead of an attacking one.
"He's my fiancé. I don't think so." She replies, and he can see a glint of a tear in her eye.
There is regret in his actions as he steps forward.
Regret in the way he callously takes the first hit of the bo staff and shrugs it off.
Regret in the way he catches the next blow, Overhaul disassembling it from her grip.
Regret in how he can see the fear in her eyes as he takes the next two steps forward and she falls to the ground.
He must look like a monster.
He pulls the comm piece out of her ear.
"Uravity." He asks.
The other comm in his ear is still active.
But there is a breaking point for everything and the doors have been open long enough.
"Package is secure Page." She sounds breathless over the earpiece, and the next noise is her huffing and puffing into it and the static of someone gripping a mic piece in all the wrong ways.
"I'm safe, baby. I'm safe!"
And the first thing that he can think about is that it's been fourteen years since he's heard that voice on anything other than a payphone or through a grainy video clip. It has been fourteen painfully long years since his Father took her and him from their life and thrust them into his.
"M-Mom?" He breathes the word. So tentative. So fragile. So fearful that it might slip away.
That it might be a lie.
Constructed through some Quirk that he did not know.
Through some deal the League had made.
"She's safe." Uravity's voice is determined and firm. "I'm here Izuku baby." His mother's voice repeats. "Now it's your turn."
Dabi.
The others.
His part of the deal.
Creati is staring at him, eyes wide and trembling as he gently pulls the comm piece out of his ear and holds it out to her. Her hands are shaking as she takes it back, onyx eyes wide in confusion and fear as his eyes water and the tears that haven't been shed spill out across his cheeks.
"My mom is safe." He cries, because there is no other way to express the feeling in his chest.
And he doesn't care if Creati, or Shoto, or anyone else around him understands that little declaration. It is for himself, and no one else. It is a statement that has been ripped from his fragile fingers for far too long.
Four words.
That he didn't ever think he would be able to say.
"PAGE!" Dabi's voice trickles back through the deafening hum. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?"
And the pain in his chest boils over into a rush of heat and rage.
"Handcuffs." He says, beckoning Creati.
She's still staring at him, eyes flickering from him up to the ceiling and then behind her to Shoto.
"Now. Please." He reiterates. "Four."
And she obeys if only because she recognizes that four is not two, and if it's not two, then it's likely not her and Shoto he's going to put them on.
As the four sets of handcuffs fall into his outstretched hand he turns back to Dabi. Faces the man who has taken over his abuse with the passing of Shigaraki and Father.
And suddenly wonders if that boy turned man knows how frantic and powerless he really is. Sitting up on that rooftop with his flames surging wildly.
"Air Cannon."
He whispers it, but power thumps in his veins as he finally unleashes the full power of his copied Quirk- and all the Quirks Father has given him since getting it.
He twists and somersaults through the air, shooting through the hole in the ceiling inches from Dabi's face.
"Fuckin-"
Another burst of Air Cannon redirects, and he slams shoulder first into the man. They go down together, rolling across the rooftop for as long as it takes for Izuku to plant one hand into it and anchor himself with a Rivet. He refocuses and launches himself after Dabi.
The villain blasts himself to his feet in a gout of flames, palms spreading out wide as he sends the blast at Izuku. There's a grin on his lips, and his chest shivers and shakes out a laugh.
"Was this your little plan Page?" he asks as Izuku rolls out of the way.
"You were going to free your mommy?" Another burst of flames forces Izuku to jump away, fingers skimming the tin roof as he restructures the material.
The tin underneath Dabi sags slightly, warping with the heat around the man.
"Well guess what!?" He shouts, drawing his flames back to concentrate them.
The ceiling collapses, metal shrieking as the heat weakens it. Dabi's face freezes, fear flashing through it as it disappears underneath his feet.
Izuku rushes forward, palm skimming the ground.
The tin roof twists and warps, collapsing in around the villain before he's sunk all the way through the melted surface. It holds him long enough for Izuku to close the distance.
For a rage fueled fist to slam into fragile enamel teeth and a boot clad heel to rise and fall on an unprotected head.
The roof cannot contain the force, and the metal crumbles and collapses with the blow, falling apart underneath Izuku's axe kick.
Together they fall, and Izuku's hands curl around Dabi's neck.
"She's free." Izuku snarls it. "She's free."
And you'll never be again. He wants to add as he pulls in the fire that's tortured him for so long. He rips it out of the man as painfully as he can, steals the power from his veins and lets him go.
And ignites it with the rage that's still burning in his heart.
Izuku lands on top of Dabi, his weight reduced by the jets of blue flames coming from his hands. But still bones crack in the villain and the man screams in pain. And around him there is silence.
Peace in the middle of war as Izuku bends down, pulling one of the handcuffs Momo creates out and clipping them to Dabi's limp wrists.
"Heya now partner." Twice whines. "That's gonna get you in trouble wit-" Izuku palms the man's face, squeezing it until he's sure he has a good grip. "Toga." He demands.
The doppelganger grabs Izuku's wrist, holding it and pushing at it. "Side of the warehouse! Side of the warehouse! What'd you do to Dabi!?"
"Tell you later over tea." Izuku dismisses, letting the clone go. Air Cannon launches him across the space- but it is Cremation that gives him flexibility in the air, extending his flight even at the cost of feeling the creeping-searing-pain bleeding from his fingertips and under his skin.
He spots Toga.
She is not in her own skin though, but he can see the way she moves, the way she holds a knife, how she dives and weaves through the crowd. She wears his skin, and maybe that's how he picks her out- his own messy mop of green hair streaked with blood and a feral smile on his lips.
He adjusts course with a burst of flame and a grit of his teeth. And then he is falling. Streaking through the air like a missile and slamming into her and burying her in the dirt.
"Fuck!" She screams, and the transformation crumbles under the pressure.
He drives his knee down into her back, feels the bones creak and the muscle flex under the pressure and pain before he grabs her wrists and pins them behind her back.
He does not want her Quirk.
But he takes it anyway. Rips it from her just as he has Dabi, because if nothing else than she does not deserve to have it if all she is going to do is murder and maim with it.
She screams as he does, as he pulls the things she has defined her entire identity on from her being. And when he stands up she does not resist or thrash. She curls around herself, arms still locked behind her back by the handcuffs as a sob slides out of her throat.
Toga. Dabi.
Mr. Compress. Twice. Spinner.
He sets off.
And one by one he rips their Quirks from them. Catching them in the heat of battle and slamming into them. He revels just a little in the shock on their face. On the flash of confusion in their eyes as a Rivet pierces their skin and their Quirk vanishes from their body. Well. For everyone except Spinner. His Quirk. And his Quirk alone, Izuku leaves.
The Heroes round them up once he takes them down. Some- Dabi most notably- are carried off on gurney's and loaded into the back of ambulances. Others- Toga – are loaded into the back of police cars and shipped out to the nearest department for booking.
Izuku remains.
Blood drips off his fingers, splattering onto the cracked and broken concrete as he watches a bulk of the Hheroes disembark, some loaded into the back of ambulances, others into cars or on foot as they disembark. But a handful remain.
Red Riot stands in front of him now, arms crossed and teeth gritted as he stares him down. But Izuku does not react- simply stares at the shattered steel doors.
Until he sees a pink space themed helmet pop through it, fringes of brown peeking out beneath the visor. Uravity. A grin on her lips as she mounts the steps and reaches back. And the person who takes her hand…
His mother is a step behind her, wobbly on her feet as she mounts the steps, a proffered hand from the Hero accepted as they rise together out of the dungeon.
There are other Heroes.
He recognizes this. Realizes it on a fundamental level even as his knees shake and the breath in his body suddenly doesn't seem like it's enough to allow him to breathe.
"M-Mom?" He whispers the word because if he speaks it any louder it will shatter the fragile illusion that is life.
She turns to him. Her smile radiates as she crosses the ruined and wrecked warehouse floor to him- one hand holding Uravity's the whole time.
She is different than the last time he saw her. Eyes gaunt and skin pale. She is thinner than she was when he was a child- and shorter, or perhaps he is taller- but she is his mother and he knows it because of how her eyes water and tears spill so readily from them as she rushes- Uravity holding her hand the whole time- to his side.
Her arms wrap around him. Squeeze him tightly in a way that he hasn't felt for so long and doesn't know how to feel about anymore. But his body somehow does as it melts into his mother's embrace. As he curls around her frame and the tears in his eyes spill down his cheeks. He squeezes her back, careful of the strength he has been given as he holds his mother.
"Izuku darling. Oh Izuku." His mother murmurs in his ear, one of her hands combing through his hair. "You grew up so big and strong. And handsome. Oh honey."
All he can do is nod and smile and nod again because the words are caught in his throat. Choked out by the thick feeling in his chest and the suffocating emotions swelling up his throat.
"Izuku." There's a different hand on his shoulder now, and he peels his cheek off his mom's shoulder just enough to see it.
Uravity, smile tentative and sorrowful as she examines the exchange. "She's safe."
And he's alive.
An anomaly he equated to having a 1% chance of happening. And yet somehow everything went wrong enough to go right.
He nods.
"We need to take you into custody."
Ah. Yes. He did have to take responsibility for everything. Didn't he? He squeezed his mother once again, taking a step back.
"It's okay mom." He whispers. "Everything is okay." He slides down to his knees, slowly clasping his hands behind his back before looking back up to Uravity. "You have my surrender."
And the Hero smiles down on him with stars in her eyes and regret bleeding from her every move as she steps forward. The handcuffs go on, and with a firm hand on his shoulder and wrist she eases him up and forward.
"It'll be fine." She says gently. "You were forced to do all this."
He shrugs and laughs. It's a story no one will believe. He will be found guilty of murder and violence and villainy- because who would believe a man like him?
"You'll be fine," Uravity says again as she loads him into the back of a police van. The officer slams one door shut, but she catches the second before he does. "Say it back."
He blinks, stares at her with a look of uncertainty before his lips part and he has to force words past the lump in his throat. "I'll-" be okay. "I'll be…" okay. Say it. Say it. He swallows. "I'll be fine." He says.
And she smiles at him like he is a boy being rescued instead of a man who should have rescued himself and says. "I'll make sure of it!"