Dark waves and gray seafoam with salt spray tickled his skin as his cape fluttered behind him, uncaring to the world around it.
The strong winds made the sea move at their will, yet they even chose to ignore him.
The ocean was one of the worst places to find yourself in the middle of a storm, the waves produced by it being able to bring down even the sturdiest battleship, and yet he merely blinked.
After all, how could something so feasible stand before the crimson death.
For so long, he had felt nothing but pain and sorrow, but now he felt so much more.
Because now he could feel everything.
He could sense and do much more than his human capabilities could have ever let him do.
His Ankle, elbows, arms, legs, skin, bones, and heart all work perfectly synchronically.
The earth that trembled under his feet, and even when the ocean tried to stop his ascend, he would merely chuckle at the pitiful attempt.
With every jump, kilometers of land dissipate past him, only fueling the Blood God's desire to resurrect his past self and kill him again. The idea of Izuku refusing all this power for unpractical reasons like morals was insulting and astonishingly stupid.
Arriving near the edge of an island, he casually jumped over it, sand and stone thrown in the wind, before colliding with the ground on the other side.
He had been running around the world for a while. Visiting places that Izuku would never have the possibility of seeing but now that his 'curiosity' has been sated, he fled to the place where living is an impossible task.
The dark cyclone of the Arctic.
A phenomenon caused by the birth of quirks and the increased heat the earth produced. To ensure the ice won't melt, humans created a bomb with the help of quirks envisioned to keep the Artic stable until a new method of stopping climate change was discovered.
That didn't work as planned, the failure resulting in a dome of extreme temperature and an environment so brutal that not even a human with ice resistance could live inside it.
The Blood God was no mere human.
So that is why he was sure his next 'home' for the time being would be the cyclone of Artic. A perfect hideout t̸h̸e̸ b̸l̸o̸o̸d̸ g̸o̸d̸ d̸o̸e̸s̸ n̸o̸t̸ h̸i̸d̸e̸ for him to put his plan in action for the end game.
Bringing himself out of his thoughts, he narrows his eyes forward and catches a glimpse of the snow-covered curves of the cyclone. Its mass was composed of frozen water that moved at a speed that could shred human skin like it was made of butter.
The vessel of the voices braced himself as he collided with the dome, even though he knew something like this could not hurt him.
The "wall" didn't have a large diameter, so he burst through it in only a few seconds, entering the cyclone's eye.
As he predicted, the cold didn't even prickle his skin, but his clothes were another story. They were frosted almost instantly, but he couldn't bring himself to care as his eyes landed on the hidden treasure.
Forgotten by the world, left to rot in a place where humanity didn't dare journey, was a frozen castle that glowed blue and epidermal. It was a castle built long before the era of quirks or the birth of the Dark Cyclone of the Arctic. Inside the gleaming glass-like walls, the stone castle looked unchanged as the frost had preserved it.
Destroying the ice surrounding the castle would also obliterate the stone structure, so that was not an option; however, if eradicating was the only thing he could do, he wouldn't be any different than the humans that walk the earth.
Placing a hand in the air, a low buzz was emitted before reality cracked, shifting and twisting.
A small part of the void appeared through the rift, and he didn't waste a second before plunging his arm through it and removing a long jet-black rapier. The sword was smithed with the only purpose of killing nightmares and demons sultans, a role it had before the purge of the void. Its hilt was crafted of gold, and the blade is the carapace of the smith god that once ruled several solar systems. Symbols decorate it, and they whisper of flames that predated humanity by billion of that imbued the rapier with the same flame that observed with lethargy as creation was set into motion.
At his will, infernal ember birth across the blade. Its heat exceeded the notions of warmth, melting away the ice around it without coming into contact, but he didn't stop there and plunged it into the frozen landscape.
The blasts instantly scorches everything, melting the ice and boiling the water it was made of, creating small waves.
When the dust settled, the once unbearable cold was gone, and instead, it was replaced with something akin to a tropical climate. The ice ground was filled with cracks from which small amounts of infernal fire burst. The only thing untouched by the flame was the castle which was free from its icy prison for the first time in centuries.
He inhales a deep breath, cold splintering air rushing into his lungs, nestling between his ribs, and grins. Oh, how much he hated his past self, but it didn't come close to how much he despised the flesh puppet that dared lay its hand on him. This is why he exerted power inside of him over the world that so casually broke down his past self since birth. It was his right to punish it.
Once inside, he snaps his finger, and warmth coats his skin; the candle around him erupts with infernal blaze, twisting like a liquid in the air, uncaring of simple concepts like gravity.
The castle interior was burnished bronze, red, and gold. All kinds of items decorated the room, from crystal goblets, expensive jewelry, and portraits of royal families forgotten by time.
However, the extravaganza sprinkled throughout the building was pale compared to the king throneroom. The red carpet was thick and swallows his boots with every step.
A polish quartz piano stood aimlessly in the back of the room, and six large windows let light pour into the room. In the middle of the room, a set of stairs rose from the ground on which stood a golden throne decorated with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. Its surface is engraved with the symbol of the royal family that once lived inside the castle.
He walks up the stairs and moves his finger on the symbol embedded in the throne before tearing it apart. The action creating an awful noise that reverberated throughout the area.
No government ensign is allowed in his castle.
With that out of the way, he let himself sit down for the first time since he became the Blood God. His body didn't feel any difference since he couldn't get tired, but he remained sitting regardless.
"Now that I had my fun, I believe it's time to get a little serious." The blood god muttered to himself as he let out a light chuckle.
"Initiating part one."
His posture remained the same, but his hand extended into the air, gripping it like a real object before ripping it wide open.
It tore like a piece of paper, the gateway showing the realm of the voices. He doesn't have to wait a second before hundred of wormholes open, showcasing important cities and places on the rock humanity called home.
Behind him, something moved and shifted as black tar poured through the air before a person set foot inside his castle.
The god grin didn't falter as he moved his head to look at the human that had, so casualty entered his domain.
"You are late, All for one ."
Izuku is gone, and now the Blood God is all it is left.
New alliances are brewing, and the world is not ready to face the god of all gods.
Also, don't worry; the story won't be rushed even if critical characters like All for One had made their appearance.
The next chapter will be centered on the entrance exam and the student because until now, only three dsmp characters had made their appearance.
With that out of the way, please don't forget to leave a comment about what you like or dislike and anything else you would like to say.
Bye