Betrayal. Rage. Heartache.

These are concepts that Grom knew well in both his time as chieftain of the Warsong clan and his time as Warchief of the Iron Horde, the hate he felt for Gul'dan and the pain of losing Garrosh had almost killed him. His was the Warlord with the Iron Will and he led his new clan of the Mag'har gloriously against the forces of the Lightbound with the aid of the Horde, so there he sat on the sands of Draenor holding the wound on his side as his lifeblood leaked from between his fingers, he thought to himself about if there was a place for him in the afterlife.

No. Not likely.

After the atrocities he had committed, Grommash was content with what fate those above deemed for him even with what he had done. Grommash was a warrior through and through, he stared at the skeletal face of death and laughed, a true Warsong spat in his face and Grom was no exception to the rule. He thought back to his lost mate Golka, the weakness she had shown to fight to stay alive, at least that is what he told himself. He more often than not could never bring himself to kill the one he cared for most, he blamed himself for his weaknesses and made sure that he would never like the same mistakes to repeat themselves again, at least… he had tried to do so. With a smile of defiance, he stared at death holding Gorehowl tightly in his hands, "If I fall this day," the dying Warchief said spitting blood from his mouth, "Then I shall die as a warrior should." Struggling to his feet, Grom readied himself to fight his last battle…

The light stung his eyes, he heard his wails as the cool, sterile air washed over him and his small frame. Grom looked up into the bright light hearing his wails and feeling unknown hands holding him, the world around him felt alien to him. It looked alien to him; the sky was different from what he remembered of Draenor, where were the clouds?

The smell of distant battle?

Was this the work of the Lightbound?

All these questions swam in Grom's mind as he continued to wail, it angered him. He didn't sound like a young orc; he sounded like the young of the humans. He wanted to scream out against the forgers of fate, sure he was content with where they put him but he never expected this, "It's a boy Mrs. Midoriya," he heard a man in all white say handing him to his new life-giver, a human woman with long, dark emerald hair. Grom stared into her face mesmerized by her beauty. Grom had fought many humans in his time as leader of the Iron Horde but hardly any of their females looked as stunning to the woman who gently held him in her arms. Whatever fate those above have deemed Grom would embrace it like the wolf he was? He would start a new in this world, even if he had to one day call upon the aid of his old clan the Warsong.

He will forge a new legacy in this new world.

Bakugo felt his back hit the ground hard on the impact, he could taste the blood in his mouth and he was left astonished looking at the boy that he deemed just another worthless extra in his mind. Just another quirkless that didn't deserve to be a hero, a useless nobody, and yet there he was said: "useless Deku" standing before him built like a tank and undaunted even after years of Bakugo's abuse.

Not even his friends want to partake in his plans.

"I tried to warn you Kacchan," Izuku said wiping the blood from his mouth, "You didn't want this fight." His words boiled Bakugo's blood, no matter what he did to try and bring Izuku down several pegs or just make him feel as worthless as he deemed him, he just stood tall over him thinking he was better than him. It also didn't help that Izuku was on the fast track to being the first quirkless to actually make it as a hero, that was at least, what the multitude of rumors have been saying and he hated that. He hated it more than the girl that Izuku had stopped him from making his move on, she wasn't special in his eyes and her quirk was odd as it elongated her ear lobes and formed earphone jacks at the ends but he wanted her and Bakugo would do anything to get her. At least until Izuku stopped him with his warning and after that their fight with him firmly on the ground spitting blood out of his mouth.

Izuku looked down at his former friend turned daily "tormentor" struggle to get back to his feet, deeming him no longer a viable threat he turned his attention to the girl he was harassing earlier, "Are you alright miss," he asked her as she stared at him nervously. Her response was only a nervous nod as she shakily fixed her coat and picking up her torn backpack. Before she could try to readjust her straps to compensate for the damage Izuku handed over one of his spare satchel bags, "Take it, you are going to need it more than I will."

"You sure?"

Izuku nodded his head turning his head to glare at Bakugo, "It's no issue," he said handing it over to the girl, "Can I get your name, miss?"

"It's…"

Before she could properly respond a distant battle cry rang out grabbing their attention and after that, a police car was tossed like a cheap toy as something rushed out on mass. Izuku was quick to act rushing towards the horde of tan skin ramming into the biggest warrior knocking him out of the way and picking up his weapon.

The orcs snarled at Izuku wanting to lash out but his glare stops them almost recognizing it from somewhere, or someone, "To whom do I challenge," Izuku asked his voice rough and almost as savage as the orcs around him.

"You challenge Mak'Rogahn," an orc yelled out brandishing his makeshift sword with a smirk earning a round of war cries from his fellow warriors, his arrogance would be his undoing.

"I challenge all who bring shame to the Warsong."

The orc growled and stormed towards Izuku weapon at the ready, this human would pay dearly for his words against the clan and the insult of Grommash for taking Gorehowl, "I will take pleasure in breaking your will and parading your corpse." Izuku readied himself as his shadow took another form, a form all too familiar to the orcs of the Warsong.

The Warlord… with the IRON WILL.