Welcome, guys! To my renewed version of Out Of Time. After hinking things over and receiving several very inspiring messages, I decided that you guys are right and Out Of Time deserves to go with the original idea behind it. Before we start, I want to share a few background info on the Out of Time creation.
To put it simply, when I first wrote it, I wanted to demonstarte the difference between heroes of the past and the present. But as I worked more on the scenarios, two particularly strong storylines appeared. Two clashed too much to work properly together and so I decided to separate those.
Hero: Man among Gods is the story about the Quirkless human now working in the future where everyone is a super. In his old world, with his tech and training, he was at least above the majority of other normal humans but not anymore. Think, what if Batman ended up in the world where everyone has powers?
Out of Time will focus more on the mixture of cynical and idealistic stories. Basically, examining how much superhero genre shifted and changed over the years and how heroes of today differ from that gold standard superheroes that were in the beginning. Basically, what if Superman ended up in the world of The Boys (a story which I am also thinking about a lot).
And so...
Let's begin.
Where am I?
Eyes were dry and bleeding. Too many lights. Bright. Painful. Scorching. Lights. He couldn't see.
The noise. The cacophony. He heard screaming. His screams. Not his screams. His ears were bleeding, the noise booming and deafening him.
What's going on?
He felt lost. His body felt numb and cold. His body was being pulled and tossed around throughout nothing. Bouncing off the unseen. Crashing into invisible. Lost. Disoriented. Weak. Numb. Hurting. Hurting. Hurting...
Help!
He screamed. Yet his mouth remained shut. Did he scream? He was sure he did. But he didn;t hearm himself scream. Did anyone hear him? Was there anyone to hear him? Where was the 'here' even?
Calm down. You have to calm down.
Hundreds of thousands of faces races across his mind. His friends. His enemies. The people he knew. The people he had never seen before. All of them smiled. All of them screamed. Too many faces. Too many voices. Laughing. Screaming. Crying. Roaring. Begging for help. Cursing his name. Singing him praises.
This isn't real!
But it was! Or was it not? Then was he real? What was he even?
Who am I?
Hero.
He rescued people. He fought the villains.
He failed the people. He lost to villains.
Symbol.
He stood for ideals. He inspired people. He guarded them. He helped them.
He was a fraud. Dirty. Lying. Cheating. Two-faced fraud!
Friend.
He would die for his friends.
He would never let his friends die for him.
I AM-
Billions of things burst into his mind. Good things. Bad things. Countless names said by countless voices.
He felt his body move faster. Being pulled forward by forces unknown and uncontrollable. He felt his skin boil and burst into sparks. And it moved faster. And faster. And faster. His skin flailing and drying and falling off before burning to ash. His bones rattling and shattering. He muscles being torn apart and scattered all across the way. His body kept dying as he moved closer and closer to the end of the road.
There was a thunderous clap.
And then came silence.
H
"Ugh... My head..."
His throat burned and his body felt sore and numb. Yet it felt more real. More real than whatever nightmare he woke up from. He opened his eyes, trying to get past the initial pain from the bright sunlight. As he managed to get up on his feet, he instantly scanned the area around himself. He was in some alley... Dirty, dusty and old. With heaps of rotting trash and stray animals for a company. Well, if the writings on the walls and some old boxes proved anything, at least, he was still in Japan.
Shakily, he walked over to some broken mirror and took a quick look at his reflection. There were minor cuts and bruises on his body, the top of his white suit blown off. Or burnt away if the scorch marks around the edges were any proof. Still, better to have damaged suit than some serious injury. With no threat to his imminent health, Izuku sat down to try and gather his thoughts.
A villain with the doomsday device all across Japan. The race against the clock to save the country. One by one, they deactivated them. Bruised and bleeding, they received the last distress call from Musutafu. They ran there and then... Then they saved the day. That was it, right? No, something didn't add up. They fought. They were winning. And then...
"Argh!" he doubled over in pain, the sudden pang of hurt running through his brain. "W-What was that?"
He felt his body grow tense as he kneeled on the ground. He was breaking into cold sweat, his heart pounding like it was ready to burst out of his chest. He tried to remember the rest. If he couldn't recall that night, then he could, at least, try and remember the rest of his past, right? He could remember his teammates. Their Quirks. Their hero names and the like.
Slowly, it came back. Piece by piece, memories, as vague as they were, formed the picture. hey fought. They were winning. The villain whose name still escaped him was desperate. He was a sore loser. He wanted to-
Another jolt of pain. Another dead end.
"Why can't I remember it?" he roared in frustration, punching a hole in a nearby wall. There was a fist-shaped hole in it now. "... Good to knpw that only my memory is broken."
If his powers were gone too, this would be an even bigger mess.
"Okay, calm down..."
He took a deep breath in and started thinking. He had zero memory of what happened at the end of the mission. His communication devices were fried so he had no way to contact the others.
His stomach grumbled.
"And I haven't eaten in forever..."
He chuckled at his own joke, though it hardly lifted his spirits. Other than being alright physically, his situation was still pretty grim. It also didn't help that, for once in a very long time, he had no solid plan of action. With his current position, the best he could do was walk around and try to find some way to contact his teammates. It also would help to find out how many days had passed.
Walking with his torso bare would certainly attract all kinds of attention. Luckily, the nearby dumpster had quite the selection of dirty, stained shirts and T-shirts. After finally finding the more or less clean shirt and a jacket with a few holes in it, Izuku stepped out of the alley.
And froze.
"What the..."
There were people. But not the way he remembered people. As if he walked into some fantasy book, he saw people of all colors, shapes and forms. He saw a couple of students. One of them looked like a raccoon. Then a girl with violet ski and pink hair. All of them walked the street and chatted without care in the world. Then there was a weird man with some turbines sticking out of his forearms.
And so many more of the people like them. Animal heads and limbs. Pieces of machinery sticking out of human bodies. Some weird patterns and spots on the skin of some of the people. And yet, despite how bizarre and surreal it looked, nobody acted differently. Everyone treated it normally. Like it was your average day.
That... wasn't how he remembered things. He knew things were getting better between superhumans and powerless population but... It was nothing like that. Just recently, a small group of anti-mutates attacked the young superhumans and they had to stop the situation from escalating. Heck, he didn't even remember so many people having powers.
"E-Excuse me?" he tapped a man on his shoulder. A man with lizard scales on his neck and horns on his head. Hopefully, his surprise wasn't too obvious. "W-Where are we right now?"
The man looked at him confused and slightly worried. "We are in Mutsufasu City, Kanseki District."
"What?" No way... This was impossible. The last time he saw Mutsufasu, it was being torn apart by the villain they were after. But the man didn't sound insincere. What was going on?
"Heeeey," the man squinted at him. "You look familiar..."
He had to find a way to contact others.
"Yeah, you look just like..." the man's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God, you are-"
"Help!" a woman screamed. "He stole my purse! Stop him!"
A young man in a hoodie pushed right past him. His body moved before he even processed the action. Probably because right now chasing after the purse-snatcher was the only thing that felt right. That felt familiar. He felt the power surge through his body as he dashed forward. With one mighty jump, he was in the air and descending towards the unfortunate thief.
The man stopped to look up at him. However, there was no fear or surprise in his posture or eyes. And though the thief looked startled, there was nothing that signaled Izuku he would surrender. In a blink of an eye, the man grew into a giant, easily reaching the size of a decent building. "Raaar!"
Caught by the surprise, Izuku barely dodged the giant fist. Quickly balancing himself in the air to the awe and cheers of the crowd, Izuku circled around the villain. Such power and he wasted it on some purse-snatching? Well, at least, the villain were just as dumb and bad at what they did. He was still shaky from his awakening but his speed and agility were the weapons he honed a long time ago.
He could work with it. But first he needed to gather the data.
"Hey, ugly!" he drew the giant's attention. "Is that the best you can do?"
The monster roared and threw another fist. He missed but still hit one of the buildings. He visibly flinched upon impact even if he only dented the walls. So his skin was still as thin as a normal person's. He also was slow and was currently in the middle of the street, which severely affected his mobility. Taking this all in account, he saw only onhe way to end this quickly.
Get him riled up. Make him waste all that energy.
Like a fly, he circled and buzzed around the monster. Keeping him busy and focused on him. The man waved and threw his arms around like a child throwing a tantrum. But Izuku was far too small and too fast for the giant. Like an annoying little pest, the black-haired hero avoided any attack and circled around the giant's upper body.
All to stall him till the people were out of the danger zone. Once the streets under them were empty, Izuku smirked in satisfaction.
Attack his weakest points.
Though the man looked a lot like a shark, Izuku noted the similarities were only superficial. With that in mind, he propelled himself forward from the building wall. Like a bullet, he shot past his guard and delivered an uppercut to the giant's nose. His strength was far less than his top one but it still went a long way. The man was disoriented but not down.
Don't let up. Keep attacking.
Throat. Solar plexus. Neck. Knees. Izuku kept bouncing off all around the giant, not even giving him a second of rest. The point was to slowly wear his body down and make it collapse on its own. With his energy running thin, the villain could barely move let alone catch him.
Go for the kill!
"Haaaah!" Finally, he threw himself forward, fist drawn and eyes sharp. With one swing, he knocked the man out, simultaneously cancelling his transformation. Just as they both landed, a couple of police officers showed up, handcuffs ready for use. "That was tough one. He is all yours, gentlemen."
He was about to leave when a group of people blocked his way. He tried to get past them but they seemed very unwilling to let him through. Still, he couldn't stay here for long. He had to get out and start forming a new plan.
With the words of apology, he tried to make his way through the crowd. But as he moved farther and farther, he couldn't help but hear the hushed bits between people. Their voices were full of suspicion. Their eyes showed pure disbelief.
"Oh my God, is that him?"
"No, that's impossible."
"... can't be him-"
"I though he was dead."
"Dude, he would be, like, a hundred years old."
Whatever relief he felt at the capture of a villain was being chipped away, pulling him back into the frantic and panicked state of mind he was at the start. He had to get out of here. All that noise. All this shock. He felt lost. He had to find somewhere to think. Just a few more steps and he would run. Just a bit more, and he would be free.
He made it through and ran. He ran as far as his speed could get him. Only for someone to his path.
"The hell do you think you are doing?"
A tall man, his body square with muscles, with hands as big as his own head. And, by the looks of it, this man wouldn't let him pass.
"Excuse me?" Izuku looked around, surprised by how empty the streets were. Probably evacuated once that giant showed up. "How may I help you?"
"I had that guy in sights, you asshole!" the man glared him down. "I have no idea why you even had to barge in!"
"People were in danger so I stepped in," Izuku groaned as he felt another headache incoming. Wait... "You mean, you saw the guy steal that woman's purse and did nothing?"
"I was going to catch him once he grew bigger," the man scoffed. "There is no viewership for just stopping some random mugger. Now a mugger as tall as a house? That's whole other story."
It was Izuku's turn to scoff. This man... Was he one of the heroes here? If so, he was disappointed. Izuku knew that people like him would eventually be attracted to the world of heroes for all the wrong reasons. Money, fame and influence were things that many craved. He only wished people chose honest ways to pursue those.
"Someone could've gotten hurt. You do realise this, right?"
The man didn't look like he did. Rolling his eyes and putting away his phone, the hero seemed more than tired of their conversation. He scoffed and told him to stay out of his business if he knew what was good for him. And Izuku would've happily showed the guy a thing or two if not for another paralyzing pang of pain. This time, much stronger. Much more powerful.
He passed out but not before hearing people approach him.
"We found him, sir."
H
Midoriya Izuku was born in year 1990, Tokyo, to the family of Hisashi and Inko Midoriya. For the next eight years, he would live like the rest of the world population. A simple kid. A simple family. A simple life.
However, on November 23rd, 2005, he was among the first people in Japan who awakened their Quirks. Those were the early days of our society. The days when people with Quirks were hunted and disappeared without trace. Days when tensions between still powerless humans and enhances ones were at all-time high. Which is why, just like with many other first superhumans across the globe, the Midoriyas went into hiding.
Nine months later, the country would hear of the Midoriya name once again. This time, however, in a much more positive and inspiring light.
On August 15th, the serial killer then known as 'Tokyo Terror' escaped police custody and went on rampage throughout the city. Using his ability to cover his body with any material he touched, the man proved invincible to the regular weapons used by the police. With no hero system at that time, the police force could only stall and delay the inevitable tragedy.
And it would indeed become one if it were not for the arrival of Izuku Midoriya. Despite the lack of experience, the young man managed to defeat and capture the criminal with minimal amount of collateral damage and minor to medium injuries for the police officers. As if that wasn't enough to gain public approval, young Midoriya then volunteered to be taken in by the police alongside the criminal he apprehended.
While there were already those that proclaimed themselves "Superheroes", Izuku was the first one who refused to run away from the crime scene. When asked later why, the young man would say that he believed in the cooperation between people like him and those without powers. And that a small gesture like this was the perfect opportunity to show that he and many others were not a threat.
That sentiment that sent the waves throughout then outcast superpowered community. What seemed like a small move by a naive kid soon grew into movement of superhumans willingly turning themselves in to prove their innocence and readiness to work with the authorities. And while many of them remained vigilantes and hid away, the public embraced the few that did it.
In return, the Japanese government proceeded to contribute to establishing the bonds between people and the superhumans. Despite the protests and several violent alterations, these actions set the groundwork for the future of the Department of Superhuman Affairs and, by extension, the Heroics System which allowed the first superhumans to become the force of good and change the public perception of Quirks.
Among the first heroes, Izuku Midoriya - or Dawnbringer- stood out as the beacon for all of them. Though young and inexperienced, it was his idealistic view and strong will that put him up on the pedestal, setting him as an example for both heroes and citizens of the country. Compassionate and honest, he continued to work relentlessly to strengthen the young and then fragile hero system.
Unfortunately, he never survived to see the fruits of his labor.
At the age of twenty-five, he and the group of several other prominent heroes found themselves in the middle of the mass catastrophe orchestrated by the villain known as Lord Calamity. With his Quirk-enhanced intelligence, the man created several doomsday devices that he had placed across Japan. While the other heroes were busy saving citizens and mitigating the collateral damage, Midoriya and his team started the race against time..
One last city remained and the team went into the heart of Musutafu City to stop the madman. They managed to apprehend him but not before the man had triggered his failsafe. Desperate to take down the heroes that stopped him, the villain didn't account for Midoriya sacrificing his life to stop his teammates and countless people of the city.
Our country was saved. But we lost out first and greatest hero.
The following weeks were the days of great despair and uncertainty for the country, many grieving over the loss of the shining beacon of heroes. In order to honor his memory, Mutsufasu City holds a yearly anniversary for the heroes we had lost. Thus, reminding us that the great city we are living today stands thanks to the sacrifice of brave young heroes.
And now, almost two centuries since his supposed death, we all were witnesses to the mysterious young man bearing striking resemblance to that of the late Izuku Midoriya. Who is he? An impostor aiming to cash in the fame? A fan inspired to take up the mantle? Or could he be Izuku Midoriya himself, back from the grave? For now, this remains unknown. But we will continue investigating and keep our audience updated on the development.
This was Mitsumi Yanagi of Power-9 Channel.
H
Izuku Midoriya was the guiding star of his generation.
He wasn't the strongest or the smartest, but many historians credited him as the man responsible for bringing people and heroes together.
Some said it was his natural leadership skills. Others said it was a well-calculated PR campaign. And some believed it was because of the kid's idealistic yet endearing outlook on things, and the readiness to go far and beyond to reach those ideals. At the end of the day, as far as the media was concerned, Midoriya Izuku was the Ideal Hero, loved by citizens and feared by criminals.
Aizawa didn't trust that guy one bit.
Having worked most of his career as an underground hero, Aizawa had developed a set of skills needed to survive the harsh and deadly world of villains. Among those skills, one of the most useful was spotting a liar. Not just catching a person in a lie, but also detecting when one wasn't one hundred per cent honest with him. Sometimes, it was the tone or a tremble in their voice. Sometimes, small gestures. But most often, it was the eyes.
And Izuku Midoriya had the eyes of a liar.
The modern media called their time The Golden Age of Heroes, focusing on how their heroics set up the foundation for the future hero society. They loved to talk about how the heroes appeared out of nowhere, not asking for money or fame but just wishing to do the right thing. It was not a complete lie but rather half the truth. The beatiful if somewhat glorifed half.
Aizawa remembered the other half much better.
Social change, by its nature, wasn't something pretty. People lived by the laws and regulations they had created over the time. And whenever something threatens to change it, they feel agigated. That agitation becomes only worse once their fears and paranoia are reinforced. And, eventually, the change creates the conflict within the society. Which is exactly what happened when Quirk first appeared.
It all started with a baby in China. Just a simple golden glow had the entire country in bewilderment. Maybe, if it was just one kid for a while, there would be less tension. Maybe, after passing through some tests, the world would slowly grow more accustomed to the idea of superhumans. But what could happen and what actually happened were two different things.
By the end of the month, each country all across the globe had dozens of superhumans manifesting their superpowers. Many of which were far more dangerous than a simple bioluminescence.
To say that it made some people nervous was an understatement of the century.
The superhumans - or deviants, as the media called them - were afraid and lost. The Quirks were appearing out of nowhere. And, sadly, often with very destructive results. There was no pattern to it. No logic behind the development of superpowers. That only added further to the growing paranoia and fear throughout the global community. It wasn't too long before enough incidents piled up and somebody decided to take action.
Both normal people and deviants were afraid and confused. The former were afraid of the superhumans could do with their powers. The latter were scared of what would be done to them for having those powers.
After all, nobody ever heard of a Luminescent Baby from China after his power manifested.
"Those were very dark times," Aizawa finally said as he turned to the rest of the gathered heroes. "The kind of crisis that changes everyone. For better or worse."
"But how do you even know that's actually him and not some imposter?" Ingenium asked. "I mean, sure, not a lot of people go for the old heroes, but there are still those who could just be looking to benefit from the image. Plus, there are always shapeshifters as an option."
Nezu took the opportunity to answer, pushing a few buttons on his pad. The screen displayed the scene on which Midoriya as pictured in his file from the old days.
"As you know, when they first became heroes, Midoriya and his group were required by the government to undergo full medical check-up. In order to help with the research into Quirks and understand the cause between them, they also provided their DNA samples," another tap on the screen and the display changed to that of DNA samples. "We compared them to the ones retrieved from the man himself."
"And?"
"They matched," Aizawa sighed, not very happy with the results himself. It would be much easier if it was just some copycat. It created much less questions. "Whatever brought him here, this is the real Midoriya Izuku."
The room fell silent, digesting that piece of information. Up until now, the majority of them assumed he was just a crazy guy who looked like Midoriya. It was an assumption that made more sense and caused less trouble for everyone.
The time travel was not the ability they couldn't quite grasp. In fact, there were quite a lot of heroes and villains who had some time-related Quirk. But it was never at such scale that it could send anyone or anything so far ahead into the future. In theory, with all the unusual and bizarre Quirks, somewhere someone had to have the power to manipulate time at such extent.
But they had Quirks for two hundred years. And no one was ever recorded with such power.
"He needs to be contained-"
"- the potential behind such power-"
"A time anomaly like this-"
A single hand rose, drawing attention away from the discussion. If only because of how hude that hand was.
"Can we just slow down for a second here?" Fatgum asked, putting his food down with obvious annoyance. "Why are we talking about him like some loose cannon? I mean, that's the first hero we are talking about. Doesn't feel right to treat him like some ticking time bomb."
"We don't have a concrete psychological portrait of Midoriya right now," Aizawa interrupted before the discussion went off track. "Right now he is confused and, most probably, on the edge. And that, without taking into account how the time travel might have affected his psyche. The fragile mental state he must be in would make any civilian dangerous. But his Quirk makes him twice bigger a threat."
Not to mention the fact that no records of its limits and weaknesses survived.
"Right now we must not see him as an active threat, however," Nezu quickly reminded them. "While he is a risk, he is the risk we must take. For all intents and purposes, Midoriya Izuku is our fellow hero and we will not treat him as any less. Is that clear?"
Several people nodded or otherwise showed their agreement. It was the sentiment all of them, including Aizawa, could agree on. Being thrown two centuries into the future was the kind of fate very few could handle. As much as Aizawa distrusted the first hero, he genuinely hoped that kid kept his sanity.
For their collective sake.
H
Izuku Midoriya has always believed that heroes were special extraordinary people.
It took more than a a fancy suit and cool powers to be a true hero. Some of his friends liked to say that anyone could be a hero. And, partially, it was was true. But to Izuku, despite some merit to the phrase, it was little more than a good way to build up the public's trust.
Which he did despite all the hate and distrust toward him and his team. It took years and a lot of work but eventually they won the public respect. And even though Izuku didn't always agree with his superiors, he knew that all that they did was for the greater good. Not only of their generation but the future ones too.
Which is why he didn't doubt himself as he made his sacrifice.
As he ordered his team to leave him to absorb the radiation and the blast, he did so without any hesitation or fear. He was the Dawnbringer and it was his job to make sure the next generation lived to see the next dawn and dusk.
He didn't have any final wishes or regrets. He didn't die screaming for a second chance or a retry. He was content. He died a hero's death.
Or was supposed to, at least.
"I know I said this before but you seem oddly unhappy to be alive," the man - one of his handlers - gave him a cup of tea. Yamada Hizashi or Present Mic. "Then again, under your circumstances, you are holding up much better than some people I know."
"A lot to take in, I guess," Izuku murmured as he went through the pictures. Newspaper clippings and notes, photos and articles on the world and the people he knew after his death. He ran fingers through his hair. His hair was quite long and strong, not a single grey strand in his otherwise pitch black mane. "Not used to knowing that I have been gone for over a century."
"I apologize for my colleague, sir," the man's partner said as he took a sip of his own tea. "Please, take your time with these. I understand things must be very weird for you for now."
Coming from a rat wearing a suit, that was putting it mildly. As it wasn't weird enough to wake up in the world that passed you by three hundred years ago, said world was nothing like he remembered at all.
It was funny, really, how in this world of crazy, him with his black hair and plain brown eyes caught more curious looks than the people made of bubbles and animals talking and walking like humans.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Izuku took the files and put them back into the folder. With a heavy sigh he returned them to Mr. Aizawa. "Sorry, nothing this time either."
It was just as frustrating for him as it was for them. More, in fact. Because the first time they showed him the broadcast, he managed to remember his death. He managed to remember the day he died with such detail it seemed like it was just a day ago. And yet, ever since that little success, nothing. No steps forward were made.
"I see, do not worry, we can always try again next week. I promise you, Mr. Midoriya, we will find what brought you here into our time."
Izuku got ready to leave. The driver outside would take him home and he would be free from these people for another week.
"Oh, and Mr. Midoriya."
Son of a-
"Please, do think about our proposition again. I understand that you are not mentally prepared to return to active duty. But the confirmation of your intent would be more than enough to give us the peace of mind until you successfully deal with this situation of yours."
Izuku took a deep breath. There were so many things he wanted to tell this mouse. So many things that he kept promising himself he would say the very second the guy started that talk again.
But in the end, it just never seemed worth it.
"I'll see you next week."
As soon they exited their holding facility, Izuku was bombarded with camera flashes and clicks. Back when he first started, he was always told to smile. He was the Dawnbringer the Original Hero. He was supposed be everything the hero should be. And, for the sake of the better tomorrow, Izuku played the role perfectly.
But this was then and there. Here and now, he wasn't Dawnbringer. He was the man stolen from his time and stranded in a world so crazy he sometimes mistook it for a dream. The dream that he just couldn't wait to wake up from.
"Mr, Midoriya, are you going to be a hero again?"
"Mr. Midoriya, any chances of your recreating the Vanguard?"
"Mr. Midoriya! Mr. Midoriya, just one question!" the woman yelled over the rest of the crowd. She didn't seem to care that he was already in the car and closing the door. "Do you think the modern hero world was worth your sacrifice?"
He slammed the door shut.
"Is it everything you wanted it to be?"
The driver couldn't start the car fast enough.
H
Nezu and the Commission never failed to remind Izuku that they would pay for his living expenses. Which included the living quarters he chose. Not so subtly, they liked to remind him that they could afford buying him a small private residence if he wished to stay away from the city.
And each time, he declined.
Because evn if this place was old and small, it was still his home.
Or rather, what remained of it.
Quietly chiding himself for yet another negative thought, Izuku wondered what exactly he expected. Both him and Yuka were only children in their respective families. And they never had a child of their own. Even if they did, how was a single family supposed to hold onto their home for three consecutive centuries?
In the end, all Izuku could do was take the small comfort in having this place to connect him to his home, however little it did.
Changing into a simple white shirt and black loose pants, Izuku flopped down on the old couch and turned on the TV. As he surfed through all too many channels, he wondered just where his life was supposed to go now. Or better yet, why he was here in the first place.
Then again, perhaps he already knew why he was brought here.
"New! Improved! And Approved by Shockvault!"
"-starring Uwabami the Snake Heroine!"
"Collect all seventy-five All Might figures to win the special prize!"
One after another, as if it was some stupid joke, all channels had heroes promoting one product or another. Or their new movie. Or their ViewYou channel. Izuku groaned to himself as he tried to find something else.
"-record number of casualties as a result of reckless-"
"-ey don't give a shit about us!"
"-NO HEROES!"
Izuku shut the thing down and threw away the remote. He wasn't an idiot. He was neither blind nor deaf, too. It's been three weeks since he woke up in some dirty alley and was brought before the Hero Commission. At first, he was lost and spent all his time wondering if this was some kind of prank or torture. And then he started seeing the signs around him.
He often wondered what kind of world they would make with these powers. Shigaraki loved to imagine the futuristic society not unlike the stuff from comics. Iida imagined the world where everyone put their powers to the best of uses to push them forward. Izuku liked to think that he was the more realistic one of their group. But even then, he imagined a better world.
This world was not what he imagined.
The world where heroes served more to push some new product. The world where heroes cared more about their appearances and the number of followers they had on social media. The world where heroes would rather pose for cameras than save lives. This was not the world he fought for. This was not the world he died for.
Is that why he was brought to this era by some omnipotent force or the universe itself?
Was that it? Was he supposed to come to this age and just get to fixing its flaws? Well, if that's what the universe wanted then it could look for someone else to do it.
He lived his life.
He died his death...
And how he was supposed to fix this time's problems too? What kind of solution was that? If the universe didn't like the way of things, why not push someone like All Might to change things? Why rip him away from his afterlife and a those who waited for him there? Where was the justice in it?
Bitter and angry, Izuku stepped outside the house and allowed his powers to carry him up into the air. He didn't need to fly back into the city. He didn't need to look for troublle or discord. He simply closed his eyes and listened. He listened to more heroes talking profits and their market value. He listened to villains wondering if they should just become heroes since it paid better. He listened to the cries of the ignored. The people too poor and too insignificant for heroes to care.
This wasn't right.
"Do you think the modern hero world was worth your sacrifice?"
No. None of this was worth his sacrifice.
"Is it everything you wanted it to be?"
No. He would never want a world where heroes cared more about money than lives.
"Then what are you going to do?"
Izuku flew up higher. Up in the sky, it seemed so peaceful. So quiet and beautiful. This is the kind of world he wished to create. The world where heroes were unnecessary. The world where their powers allowed the humanity to go beyond what they once hought impossible.
And now?
Now it was all corrupted. His dream of the world of heroes was twisted into something unpleasant.
"I am going to fix it."
He hated that fate or whatever power brought him here. He didn't know whether it was desperation or their idea of punishment. But he didn't care. He would fix this twisted and wrong parody of his dream. Perhaps he was responsible for it. He allowed the PR team too much control over himself. He set the precedent of heroes depending on public approval to do the right thing.
And if this was all his fault, then he would be the one to fix it.
But he would do it his way.
And here you go, guys! Izuku in the world where heroes are much more selfish and greedy and vain. The world where heroes care about money and fame more than they care about doing good. Nezu and U.A. and several other heroes might the some of the few exceptions to that but that's not saying much!
With the powers as great as Superman's, can Izuku save the world from itself?
I sincerely hope you liked it and will give this story the same love you did the original version.