Hey hey! Had an idea, and it bothered me for many days before I finally settled on writing this! Once more, the lack of Magic the Gathering related stories has left me disappointed, so I have elected to be the change I want to see! With the (severely disappointing) lack of casualties in the War of the Spark, the options for reincarnation fictions have some rather limited options, and the blind "hey I've just randomly ended up here by planeswalking" has been done a million times over. So that left us with Domri, Dack, and Beefslab himself, the indestructible Chad, Gideon. I had set my eyes on MHA because why not, and considering the options… sending the greatest thief in the multiverse wouldn't make sense, he wouldn't want to be a hero. Domri… a literal anarchist who summoned a boar god to destroy Ravnica doesn't seem like the kind of person to try and protect a city. But Gideon, now there's a man I can see thriving in that world of heroes. Bear with me as I try this out!
Using the trailer and cards for war of the spark while ignoring the novel. Those of you who know it know why. Also for those who don't know Magic lore, Gideon Jura's actual name is Kytheon Iora. There's a whole bit of lore explaining the switch, but just what you need to know is that Gideon's real name is Kytheon and I will be using it frequently.
I don't own either series.
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"When you rule by fear, your greatest weakness is one who's no longer afraid. The moment Liliana defied Nicol Bolas, her contract was broken, and her life was forfeit. But she was free to choose her fate, and she decided it was worth the price."
Gideon Jura grunted as he was forced to his knees, the weight of the dreadhorde soldiers pressing against him. Despite their many blows and stabs, they were unable to break through his impenetrable aura that covered his body, but he was unable to push back against the sheer numbers that were wailing on him. All of a sudden, the hail of swords and spears stopped as the lazotep plated warriors seemed to turn their attention elsewhere, before beginning to run. Confused and curious, Gideon pushed himself back to his feet to see what was happening, only to be greeted with an interesting sight. Liliana, once commanding the dreadhorde forces under Bolas's command, was now sending them at the tyrannical elder dragon. They looked like ants as they swarmed up the side of the citadel towards the imposing figure of the false God-pharaoh, who clenched his fist with a flare of magic.
"To Liliana's surprise, the cost of betraying Bolas did not fall on her."
A scream tore Gideon from his observation, whirling around to see Liliana, the lines of her infernal contracts lighting up with an orange glow and starting to smoke. The necromancer screamed in pain, in anger, in defiance, even as her fingers began to crumble to ash, refusing to falter in her rebellious command. And in that moment, Gideon knew what he had to do. Rushing forwards, he clasped a hand on Liliana's shoulder, using what stamina he had left to transfer his blessing to her. His indestructible aura moved as he used Hieromancy to transfer his shield to her, and the damage overtaking her to him.
"His triumph came not from victory over his enemies, but from the salvation of those who survived."
Pain. Agonizing, overwhelming pain washed over Gideon as the effects of the spell began eating away at his flesh. It hurt more than any experience he had faced before, and his teeth clenched as his other hand gripped the shattered Blackblade. The shock and confusion was clear on Liliana's face as his golden aura rolled over her like a warm tide, restoring her and protecting her even as it tore the Akroan man apart. Even as his body began to flake away and disintegrate, Gideon did not scream. He gave her a strained smile. Though they had always butted heads and never saw eye to eye, he was giving his life to protect hers, a thoroughly selfless action that bewildered her. But then she realized what he was doing. He was giving her a second chance, a new shot at life, even though they had been enemies for a long time. She was sure to not waste it.
"Kytheon had known war every day of his life. Now he finally knew peace."
As he saw her turn back, and saw the God-eternals Bontu and Oketra turn towards their previous master, Gideon knew that what he had done was the right choice. Despite him being well within his rights to not help her and let her die, his heroic streak would not let that stand. As the overwhelming pain began to give away to blissful numbness, and the rest of his body began to crumble, Gideon began to feel at peace. Far from the clutches of Erebos, from the annihilating touch of Ulamog and Kozilek, the necromantic grasp of Innistrad, Kytheon Iora finally was able to relax.
And with a final crumble of dust, Kytheon Iora, the Ally of Zendikar, Wielder of the Blackblade, passed on to the next life.
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The second Kytheon opened his eyes, he knew something was not right.
First, he knew because he was opening his eyes in the first place.
Second, he felt quite a bit shorter than he was before, and his hair felt curlier than the straight locks he once had.
Third, he could feel both the familiar weight of his Sural and bracer on one hand while the other held the more ominous grasp of the Blackblade, somehow back in one piece.
All of this was adding up to a major pile of questions tumbling about in Kytheon's head as he pushed himself upright, dropping his sword to rub his head. He found himself aching all over and horribly exhausted, but dismissed the thought of pain as he forced himself shakily to his feet to get a look around.
He began with an inspection of himself first.
No longer was he wearing the intricate black gold and silver armor he had in his older years, but instead he was wearing his tunic from back in Akros, back before his spark ignited and sent him to Bant. Bringing his hands up to his head, he felt the curly mop of brown hair sitting atop his head. He would need to find the materials to straighten his hair later, he had gotten much more used to the feel of that hair when he was studying under Hixus, the warden of the prison he learned hieromancy in.
Speaking of the light based magic, Kytheon realized that he needed to make sure he still had the skills required to use it. He reached out for that power of devotion and faith within him, and smiled when the multiple blades of his sural became coated in a glowing sheen. He ran the edge of the blades along his opposite palm, glad to see that the steel didn't even scratch the glowing aura around him. So at least he still had that going for him!
Next up came the study of his surroundings. He seemed to be in a massive city, not unlike Ravnica, and yet it seemed completely different as well. Instead of massive towers of stone, these buildings were made of steel, bricks, and glass. Not even Kaladesh, was so… sleek. He found himself in a dark alley between two of these buildings, but from what he could see out of the entrance, this city was densely populated with all sorts of people. He could recognize the humans, but there were some distinctly inhuman people he could see, and could not place what race they might be. He had never seen a population quite so diverse before in all of his travels through the multiverse.
Deciding that he had learned all he could by standing still in the alleyway, he coiled his sural under his bracer, and bent down to pick up the Blackblade. The weapon always felt wrong to use, the demon- and dragon-slaying sword that drank the souls of their victims resting cold in his hands. But he knew that to leave it behind would guarantee some person of ill-repute would get it in their grips, and this world did not deserve such a blight on them. So he would take it with him and ensure that no one would ever get the cursed blade. He sheathed it on his back before striding out into the bright sunlight.
The world that graced his eyes was a fascinating one. Vehicles raced past on the street, and the citizens barely gave him more than a passing glance. Occasionally he would see someone in a costume go running past him, and people would applaud, or take pictures as they ran past. He heard the words "Pro hero" thrown about whenever these people went by. Those words confused Kytheon. Professional heroes? How many could there possibly be? Heroes were supposed to be those people who went above and beyond what any other would be willing to give. They were supposed to be those who rose above the average populace to achieve the feats of legends. He had earned the title first on Theros as a teen, when he led a small crew of released prisoners against an overwhelming flood of Cyclopes and Harpies to defend Akros's central seat of power. He had even become recognized as a champion by the Sun God Heliod himself, and granted a spear to fight the Titan of Erebos, God of the dead. That of course led to…
He shook his head. He can not dwell on that right now. He had to find more information. He counted himself blessed that he could read the signs on all the buildings, looking for something that could teach him more about where he was. All of that, however, was immediately thrown out the window when he heard a scream coming from down a particular street. His body reacted with the instincts of someone long trained to run towards danger to save who he could.
He whirled around the corner in time to see some half octopus monster of a man laughing maniacally as his many tentacles reached out, swatting men aside and grabbing for any woman nearby. Kytheon growled in disgust at the clearly perverted criminal as he charged forwards. Some other civilians tried to stop him from running at the monster, attempting to grab him, but he shook himself loose with ease. He flung a hand out to the side, unfurling his sural as he shifted the bracer to his other arm. The four metal strip blades began to glow as he channeled his hieromancy into it, leaping towards the monster. In his mind he couldn't help but draw an amusing comparison to when he had leapt at Ulamog, though the stakes could not be any more different. By this point the villain had noticed him and flung a tentacle at him to swat him away. He brought his shield up quickly and parried the blow, knocking it wide. He saw another tentacle going for a woman in a peculiar dress and dove sideways, rolling into the way and jumping up, allowing the tentacle to smash into his chest. There was a brief flash of light before the tentacle was repelled, the woman falling onto her butt.
"Go on! Get out of here! I will help the others get free!" Kytheon ordered, blocking another strike from the octopus freak. By now he certainly had the full attention of the villain, who growled.
"Look kid, I dunno what you're trying to do here, but you don't understand a thing! Long have I suffered at the hands of women, always being shunned for my looks! I'm just collecting the women I deserve!"
Kytheon had heard more than enough at this point. This disgusting freak… "The only thing you deserve is prison!" He yelled, charging forwards once more. With a lash of his sural and a yelp of pain, some of the tentacles fell to the ground, the women caught in them falling as well and scrambling away from the now retreating villain, holding the bloody stumps of some of his tentacles with a grimace.
"You freak! What kind of hero cuts off someone's limbs!" He shrieked, trying to get away from the approaching Kytheon, who threw forward his glowing sural once more. However, instead of slashing through the being, they wrapped around him. Instantly he began to feel weak , dropping to his knees, unable to fight back.
"A hero does whatever he must to save whoever he can!" Kytheon declared. "A single casualty is too much of a weight on the back of a hero, if a hero can't save everyone, he doesn't deserve the title!" He said, with such faith and conviction that even the villain couldn't help but nod along. Cameras were flashing behind him with cheers as the civilians recorded both the teen and his words even as the cops and a few other pro heroes showed up to take the villain away. One of the cops came up to Kytheon.
"Young man, you are going to have to come with us…"
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Kytheon found himself in handcuffs, seated across a table from a stern looking man in uniform. His sural and sword and shield had been taken from him when they had gotten to the station. He was slightly bristling with the indignity of it all.
"Sir, can you please tell me why I am also arrested? I did nothing but help defend those people from a rampaging perverted villain." Kytheon said, spreading his hands as wide as the cuffs allowed. The cop sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Look kid, I'm supposed to be the one asking the questions here. Can you tell me your name?"
"Kytheon Iora."
"Right… Kytheon, you are at an age where you should certainly know the rules about public quirk usage. Using a quirk in public without a hero license is unlawful and illegal. Vigilantism is a crime. You should know this…"
"Sir, what is a quirk?"
To say that the policeman was caught off guard would be an understatement.
"You're joking, right? You have one… almost the entire population of the world has one. Have you been living under a rock?"
"Sir, I promise that I am not joking at all. I only just arrived here not long ago. I heard the screams and ran to help."
"Look kid. I appreciate that, but next time, leave it to the pro heroes, ok? Several were already on the way before you even arrived on the scene. It's best to leave the villains to them. What if you would've been hurt?"
"Trust me, I wouldn't have been."
"I…" The man sighed a heavy sigh, unsure how to handle this curly haired boy in a tunic.
"You also didn't tell me what a quirk is…please, humor me." Kytheon said, clasping his hands together.
"Right… a quirk is a special ability unique to each person. In your case, it would be that strange light that covered you and your weapon."
"My Hieromancy? If that is all, then I committed no crime, that wasn't a 'quirk', that was magic. If I found someone with a similar alignment, I could teach it to them as well."
It seemed at every corner this kid wanted to throw the officer for a loop. He decided a different approach was called for.
"Then there is also the matter of the public carrying and use of a weapon without a license, not to mention that you actually cut multiple arms off of your opponent. That was assault with a deadly weapon."
"If I hadn't, what do you think would have happened to those women he held? He could have escaped with someone, and gods only know what would happen to them then." The teen's gaze was unwavering as he matched the cop's weary one head on.
"Kid… where are your parents?"
"Not here."
Ah. Ok, this was going to be a bit tougher to handle. The cop removed his hat and ran a hand through his graying hair. He could practically feel more hairs turning gray by the second. He felt his phone buzz, and he looked down at the message on it. He pushed his chair back and stood.
"Sit tight kid, I'll be back in a second."
"Of course sir."
At least the kid was oddly militaristic, despite his orphaned status. The cop had to at least respect that the kid was giving them a relatively easy time. He stepped out the door to his comrade waiting outside.
"What is it?"
"Well… first off, the kid hasn't said a single lie yet. Which makes the next part tougher, because there are no records of a Kytheon Iora anywhere. We got in contact with every nation we could, and there are no signs of any Kytheon Iora having ever existed. But since he wasn't lying, we know that is his actual name."
"So what are you saying, he is an alien?"
"I don't know what it means. But already he has caused quite the stir among the people. Many have already called us to release him, specifically the various women who he rescued. Not to mention, his little victory speech has been making the rounds on the internet. So many people are paying attention to the little lecture he made about what makes a hero. Whatever we choose to do here could have some severe consequences for everyone involved. What do you think is the best choice?"
The cop groaned as he massaged the side of his head. He was most certainly going to need a drink whenever he returned home.
"Might I make a suggestion?"
The two police turned to look at the new third party.
"M-Midnight? What are you doing here?"
"A few of my friends had been saved by the charming young teen that you've currently got held. They wanted to call in a favor or two that I owed them to see if I could help him in any way that I could in thanks. Not to mention, he is quite the shining youthful star! With a bit of training and a license, he could be quite the pro hero!" She chuckled. "Much of the internet seems to think he is one already, despite his age."
The cops considered everything the 18+ only hero said. Then they considered everything they already knew about the teen in custody.
"Well… in that case, you should know that he is an orphan from some foreign place, we don't know where. He didn't know what quirks were, and claims that his power is not unique. But you are correct, with the public gaze on him, he could be made into quite the hero. He isn't old enough to live on his own, and he has no legal documentation…"
The three trailed off into silence. Then Midnight perked up.
"You know… I could be his legal guardian here!"
The cops looked at her in surprise.
"What's with those looks? I'm great with kids, I teach at UA after all. And I don't think he would pose any harm to me, and if he tried anything, I could easily knock him out and contain him!"
"Are you sure about that?"
"Of course! He seems like an intelligent guy, I could teach him what he's missing out on, and then get him enrolled in UA! He's already practically a hero, he just needs the licensing to prove it!"
The cops had to admit, the woman's intelligent and analytical side came through at the strangest times, but they were grateful for the intervention.
"In that case, we will not press charges and pass all of the responsibility for this onto your department's shoulders. We will need to ask him about the weapons he was holding and why he was so determined we not take his sword, but after that we will pass him into your care for the foreseeable future. Understood?"
"Yes. May I sit in on the questioning? It will give us a bit of a smoother transition for him."
"Of course. Please, come in."
A conclusion reached, the first cop and Midnight stepped through the door, the woman pulling a second seat from the corner, sitting in it reversed style at the table, smiling at Kytheon. The cop took the lead.
"So Kytheon, we have come to a conclusion. Since you were seemingly unaware of the laws and statures surrounding quirk usage and vigilantism here in this country, we are going to let you off with a slap on the wrist and a warning."
"Thank you sir. May I ask who this woman is?"
Midnight spoke up this time. "I am Nemuri Kayama, also known as the Pro Hero Midnight." There was that term again, and Kytheon couldn't suppress a tick of his eyebrow. "As part of the conclusion we reached, from here on out I will be your legal guardian, and school you about the laws and stuff you need to be aware of. I hope we can get along!"
"Of course. However, I don't need a guardian, I have been living on my own for long enough now, I can handle myself." Kytheon stated, attempting to fold his arms, but not getting far with the cuffs on him. Man he hated those things.
The cop sighed. "For legal reasons, you do. We found no records of you anywhere in the world, so legally you don't exist. Without that paperwork, you can't get a hero license, you can't go to school, you can't get a job, none of the above. Do you understand?"
Kytheon paused for a moment. He should have seen that coming, he supposed. But still, who needs a license to be a hero? That seems like the farthest thing from being a hero you can get. Eventually though, he had to cede to the fact that he was a stranger in a strange land with no methods of support. He sighed, then nodded his head. "Very well. Will I get my weapons back?"
"Ah yes… your weapons. Upon closer investigation of your… whip blades?"
"Sural"
"Your sural and shield are fine, so long as you refrain from carrying them in public and instead keep them at home until you get a permit for them. As for the sword…"
"You didn't touch it, did you?" Kytheon asked, a shadow over his face. The cop and Midnight shared a glance before leaning forward.
"We have pulled it out of the sheath, but no one has touched the blade. No one wanted to, not with the black wisps of smoke coming off of it. Can you elaborate what it is?"
"It is a dangerous weapon I have been tasked with keeping safe and out of the hands of those that would use it for evil. Do not touch the blade, if you value your life."
The oddly stoic and dark statement did nothing to alleviate their concerns. "Young man, if it is so dangerous, why would they ask a teenager to protect it? Forgive me if I seem rude, but while you are capable, surely there are more capable adults out there that can guard it? Or why not lock it up somewhere, or break it?"
Kytheon seemed to give the situation some thought before nodding once. "It is alive, to a certain extent, and it chose me. If it gets broken, someone will reforge it. It has happened before. And if it gets locked up, someone will steal it. Again, it has happened before."
Midnight couldn't help but give a slight shudder, while the cop's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly does this blade do that makes it so dangerous?"
"It consumes souls…"
There was silence in the room.
"Young man, I hope you realize we can't just let you take such a weapon. No sane adult would allow a teenager to handle something so dangerous."
"It has bonded with me, and will not cooperate with anyone else, I can keep it in check. It is a hero's duty to keep the population safe from such evils, is it not? Can you say with a straight face that this weapon would be safe in the hands of any of your Pro-heroes?"
"Well… All-might." Both Midnight and the cop said in unison. Kytheon decided to file that answer away for later. The cop sighed.
"You're… not going to budge on this, huh." He said, shaking his head. Kytheon shook his head in a negatory fashion. "Very well. However, under no circumstances are you to use this sword. Understood?"
Kytheon nodded. "I never want to use it again anyways."
"That is… unsettling to know. Alright. We have no further questions for you. Please go with Midnight. I hope to one day work alongside you, instead of sitting across from you." The cop said with a tired smile, reaching out to unlock the handcuffs.
"Thank you sir."
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Kytheon, having retrieved all of his stuff and wrapping the Blackblade and its sheath in a blanket he got from the police, followed Nemuri out the door. They made their way down to the street and caught a ride in a cab back to the place Nemuri stayed. The ride back was almost completely silent, each considering the situation they found themselves in.
Kytheon was trying to puzzle out what might have happened to him that brought him here, while also trying to puzzle out the nature of the world he was in. He watched the world passing by the window with curiosity. It seemed almost as if the world had never heard of magic, just these "quirks" the police were talking about. It seemed like everybody had a quirk that was wholly unique to them and no one else. There were no unified practices of spellcasting. While that was good, no telepaths or necromancers running rampant here, that also meant that there were no justicars like on Ravnica or other hieromancers dedicated to keeping order and justice. Not to mention, the police officer said "almost all" of the population had quirks. What about the people who didn't? How were they treated?
He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that.
Then there was the matter of the woman seated next to him. Allegedly one of the "Pro Heroes" he heard so much about. The whole concept rubbed him the wrong way. Why should someone need a license to do the right thing? The driver of the cab seemed to be in awe of her, but that might just be due to her rather attractive appearance. Were there laws that restricted the actions of the heroes? Were some people put higher on the list of people to save than others? His experience with the Azorius and Orzhov on Ravnica drilled in the importance of reading the fine print. You never knew where the deals stopped and the imprisonments began. He would have to do a bit of investigation on the topic.
Meanwhile, the woman that was occupying his thoughts had turned her thoughts to the strange teen she had found herself volunteering to care for. Yes, some of her friends had called her to make sure he didn't get into too much trouble, but nowhere was she asked to basically adopt a homeless, orphaned teen! She was secretly wondering what had even come over when she had asked to do that. Yes she made a decent living, both from teaching and being a pro hero, so that wasn't going to be an issue. And it wasn't like the kid needed much help surviving, as from the sounds of it, he had lived on his own for quite a while. She supposed that overall, it could be much much worse than it turned out to be. Realizing that she had been giving her charge a bit of a cold shoulder, she turned her attention to him.
"So uhh… Kytheon? Where are ya from?"
"My home is a city called Akros, in a place called Theros. But I have lived many other places beyond that."
"Huh, never heard of it, but it sounds fairly greek in nature… Now look, I understand you want to be a hero, right? Well fortunately, I teach at a place that brings up young heroes like yourself. I can probably at least get you a quick spot into the admission exam."
"What exam can you possibly take to be a hero? A paper test can't possibly measure the strength of the heart, or the strength of the will to save…" Kytheon asked, tilting his head as he looked back at her. Nemuri smiled.
"Well I can't give away the details about what happens, that would be considered cheating!"
Kytheon shook his head. "No, I mean… How can you teach someone to be a hero? A hero is one who is supposed to rise above the odds, above the average person, to accomplish something that was allegedly impossible. It isn't something that you can just hand out licenses for… that defeats the whole purpose of being a hero!"
Nemuri's smile morphed into a very slight frown. Evidently this was a major point in Kytheon's mindset.
"Kytheon, from what you said before, you are someone from a place far from here. Well, here, the Hero profession is a job for people with quirks, and fills all sorts of roles. Advertising, rescue missions, and of course the biggest one is fighting off villains. But above all else, the title of Hero here is a symbol. Not everyone has what it takes to be a hero, and many use their quirks for a life of crime. The number of arrests we make daily due to these crimes are frankly astonishing. So we have the superheroes to be role models for the kids, to give them something positive to look to. They are as much a symbol as they are anything else."
Kytheon rubbed his chin as he looked down. Evidently this was a different meaning of the word Hero from what he was always used to. But he had to admit, when she put it like that, he found it quite a bit more respectable. "I see…" He mumbled, with a slight nod. "That makes sense."
"And if you want to be a hero, you need a good, positive image to the public. Leadership skills, public speaking, all of those types of things we can most certainly teach to students. So, you interested?"
Kytheon thought for a while about this. If he was truly about to launch into a brand new life here in this strange world he found himself in, then it seemed like this path was one he could get behind. His role in the Boros Garrison and the allied forces on Zendikar could be seen as a crash course in what he would be learning here. Some of the people he had fought with would say that this was the occupation he was born for. "I think… I think I am. I want to be a symbol for the people here, A shining exemplar of justice for all. I want to remind everyone that they can be heroes too."
Nemuri smiled. "With that attitude, you've got a great shot at being the next All-Might."
"I heard that name earlier, who is this All-Might?"
"Y-You haven't- right, silly question. If you didn't know what quirks were, you probably wouldn't know who All-Might is. He is currently the Number 1 Pro Hero in Japan, nicknamed 'the Symbol of Peace', saving lives with a smile and a cry of 'I am Here!'. Most of the population loves and admires him. So many of my students want to be 'the next All-Might'."
Kytheon nodded. "Makes sense… But will I be able to handle going to school here? I know next to nothing about this place, and never had official schooling…"
Nemuri smirked. "Well, I hope you're ready for a crash course! As a teacher I can't let any of my students fall behind!"
Kytheon wasn't sure if he made the right decision anymore.
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Aaaaaaaaand I'm gonna cut it here! As someone relatively new to the whole My Hero Academia Fandom, forgive me if some characters aren't fully word for word like canon. I don't have quite the same grasp of them as I do other series I have written for before. Next chapter will be a bit of a skip to get to the whole entrance exam bit, where he will really start interacting with the main characters! Kytheon will be replacing Mineta in 1-A. Because even as someone who has just started getting into the series… he disgusts me. You'd think the hero exam proctors would also run like personality checks or something.
Anyways! Thanks for tuning in to my story, hope y'all enjoy it! I know I'm not the best with updating, but hey, at least the whole quarantine business is keeping me on my laptop more often! So there might be a possibility that this or another of my fics may get updated in the near future!
