The rosy fingers of dawn creep through the blinds of Castor Dioscuri's window. His face crunches, before the right side of his face bends and disappears. His door opens, his brother Pollux Dioscuri walks in. Tall, with short black hair and red eyes, his wiry form stalks like a phantom across the bedroom.
Pollux slaps Castor across the face.
Castor's golden eye shoots open, the rest of his face becoming visible soon after. His hand moves to block the sunlight. "Fuck. Dammit Pollux, you couldn't have been a bit more diplomatic about it?" His first words hold a weary sense of inevitability.
Pollux replies: "Your quirk was acting up again. Half your face was invisible."
"Again? You'd think that after 10 years it would have just sorted itself out by now."
"Guess not."
Castor hops out of bed, and begins rummaging in his closet. Shirtless, the right half of his body is covered in scar tissue, his neck and forearm being exempt. "Remember the heart attack I gave mom the first time she walked in on me with my head missing?"
"It was an eventful way to wake up."
"What time is it, anyway?"
"6:05."
Pollux can see the mixture of confusion and annoyance. "Fuck you gotta wake me up this early for?"
"It's only the most important day of our lives. Thought you would want to enjoy as much of it as possible."
"Hold your horses, we haven't been admitted yet."
"It's not like you to doubt your own abilities."
"Anything to give you shit, little brother."
"By five minutes"
"Whatever, get out of here. I need to get ready."
Castor, dressed in a red shirt and black pants, jumps the last flight of stairs, landing in front of an island, on the other side of which Pollux is finishing breakfast. A plate with scrambled eggs, bacon and a piece of toast is presented to him.
"Thanks."
Pollux sits next to him.
"It's unfortunate mom and dad couldn't be here."
"What, so you could avoid cook duty?"
"Be serious."
Castor rolls his eyes.
"Man, what are the chances both their managers decide to be dicks simultaneously?"
Pollux: What are the chances a glowing baby is born in China?
Castor: Fair.
Castor and Pollux walk down a sloped suburban street. Cherry blossoms line the road, solitary leaves languidly blown along by a slight breeze. "How are we getting there?" Pollux asks.
Castor replies. "I got us a ride. He should be… there he is!"
Castor runs to a beat up blue car. His tapping gets the slouched over driver to lower the window.
"Hey, Thomas!"
Thomas shoots a weary smile. "Hey Castor, hey Pollux. Hop in."
Pollux speaks up. "Thomas is 16, he can't legally drive us."
"It's either this or we fly and risk getting written up. Come on."
Dismayed, Pollux gets in the back.
Thomas bitterley chuckles. "You lucky bastards."
The car pulls away.
Now he sounds more shocked than anything else. "I can't believe it. You guys are gonna get into the academy. I never thought it'd happen to anyone I know."
Castor almost sounds uncertain. "Haven't gotten in yet."
"Fuck off. With your quirks? It's guaranteed. Not everyone's so lucky."
"Don't be so down on yourself, you've got a good quirk."
Thomas punches Castor on the arm. "I shoot confetti out of my hands."
"That's a great quirk at birthday parties! Quit being a sourpuss and shoot some confetti to celebrate!"
The streamers only narrowly miss Castors eyes.
Castor and Pollux stand before the edifice of Atlas academy, a stunning mix of Art Deco and neoclassical architecture. The base of the structure is square, with the top portions being increasingly narrower sections of cylinders until the whole thing tops off with a glass square. Corinthian columns line the side of the building. The cylinders are covered in a symmetrical mixture of chrome and black tile, with gold trims. Bas-reliefs and statues adorne the building, a 100 foot golden statue of Achilles standing above the front entrance. A large marble staircase lays in front of them.* To their left is a wave of green leading to the endless shining blue of the Atlantic Ocean, and to their right is the suburban sprawl of San Jose.
"Nil igitur mors est ad nos."
Pollux sounds even more solemn than usual.
Castor echoes: "Death, therefore, is nothing to us."
"Bold claim."
They ascend.
The distant shadows of prospective students flicker in the dim lighting of the enormous auditorium they are all packed into. Murmurs fall silent as the lights go on, illuminating a tall, red haired woman at the podium. She coughs, and then goes to speak.
"My name is Nicole Otto, and I am one of the teachers at Atlas academy. You all know why you're here. I won't waste your time. The practical exam will involve you fighting robots in an urban zone, who are worth either one, two, three, or two hundred points, based on size. There will also be multiple teachers present, and if you successfully handcuff a teacher, you will receive one hundred points. If the teacher defeats you, you fail automatically. In addition, saving classmates from harm will net points. Direct your attention to the desk mounted screens in front of you. "
The small screens in front of every student light up with various letters.
"The letter you have is the letter of the testing ground you have been assigned to."
Castor has a b in front of him, Pollux an a.
Nicole: Please exit through the doors on the side of the stage when I tell you to do so. The hallways will lead to you a central hub, which will then take you to your testing ground. Remember that there are 18 seats in the hero course. You are dismissed.
Castor turns to Pollux. "Ice cream after?"
Pollux allows himself a smile.
Castor stares at the gates in between him and the testing grounds. Buildings loom behind the walls.
Figured I'd be more nervous.
He does a once over of the crowd.
These are the best students in the country, after all. I should cherish this. These are the last moments of the normal part of my life. I could just walk away, not become a hero. Not risk death and dismemberment, not break the hearts of my family if I die. I can live a long, peaceful life, and not ever have to consider the possibility that I might die so my name lives forever. Won't run the risk of trading Nostos for Kleos.
Shielding his eyes, he looks at the sun. He smiles, then looks back at the gate.
Nah, fuck that.
The gates swing open. For a brief second, everyone is still. Bright energy shoots out of his hands as he flies through the gates, the rest following a split second after.
The hell is that noise?
He turns to find a metal plow following close behind. He flies up and to the side as the plow passes. In the split second he's alongside it, he notices a few things.
The plow is coming out of the hands of a tall girl, squatting to avoid the wind.
The feral look and fanged teeth as she grins at him.
That puberty hit this girl like a fully loaded oil tanker.
Are those treads where her feet should be?
She shoots forward, plow and treads disappearing as she skids to a stop, legs splayed out before her, right arm planted on the ground, and her left forearm replaced by a 17 foot long gun barrel, the stock planted against the ground, and the business end being bumped into by the face of a three pointer robot.
A hollow ring echoes in the air.
Her grin grows wider.
First blood.
Before the case has left the chamber the shell is halfway to the building at the end of the road, ripping through any unlucky robot in the way. In the span of a second the shell slams into the building, an enormous plume of smoke and fire pouring out of the lobby.
High explosive. Wait, if it didn't go off on contact with the robots, they must be made of tissue paper.
Castor lands in front of the girl, extends his right hand, and lets out a pulse of bright yellow energy. It surges out in a 100 ft high wall, blowing the windows out of the buildings lining the road. Any robot in the way has limbs, screws, and heads blown off. The wave dissipates when it hits the still smoking building at the end of the road, a storm of glass raining down onto the mangled metal corpses.
The Girl yells at him. "Hey!"
Castor turns to her.
"You stole my kill!"
Castor scoffs. "I didn't see your name on it."
Castor jets into the sky, energy flying out of his hands and shoes. Over the buildings, and down onto a nearby street. Lowering himself into a run, energy forms a hard light construct around his hands, shaping into a giant battle ax. He runs at a three pointer, and dismembers it. Flying through the remains, he faces down a whole line of robots. He grins, extends one hand, and lets loose a hurricane of energy. When he lets up a second later, the robots have been ripped limb from limb, oil burning on the ground like molten blood.
He flies down the street, and stops at a fork. To his left are robots. To his right is a teacher. The woman from the orientation. They lock eyes.
Should I? I don't know what her quirk is, and she might actually beat me in a fight. Can't risk it. Besides, teachers are just there to give mental quirk users a chance, I can get a hundred points pretty easily.
Castor stands on the edge of a skyscraper, with a box of hard light around his eyes to keep the wind out.
I think all the robots have been taken out, at least all the ones around me. They should be wrapping this up soon.
The ground begins to shake. Castor hears screams, and turns to see the ground at the center of the testing ground opening up. A great, hulking mass of metal, hundreds of feet tall begins to emerge from the ground. The two hundred pointer.
Castor sees most of the kids flee, and a few including the girl from earlier, rush at the robot.
Sorry, you're not taking this from me.
Energy encircles his arms, he blasts off, a golden comet stretching across the sky. He lands and skids in front of the robot, his wrists pressed together, palms facing the robot and legs planted wide. Pouring more and more energy around his arms, the trails stretching a block behind him, he can feel something within him snap.
Letting out an almighty scream, the built up energy is absorbed into his arms as he pours everything he has into his attack. An enormous pillar of energy shoots out, engulfing the robot in a blinding light. He holds for ten seconds, and then his knees give out. The entire testing ground stands in awed silence, the robot nowhere to be seen. One hand is planted on the ground, one clamped over his mouth. Keeping the contents of his stomach in is harder than fighting the robots. No one can hear the words, but everyone knows what is being said over the pa.
"The test is over."
They can hear their mother yelling. "Castor! Pollux! Get down here! Your letters have arrived!"
Castor is downstairs before 'arrived' leaves her lips. She fumbles with his father, a man with a light bulb instead of a head, to get the letters to her sons. Pollux grabs a letter opener, Castor rips his envelope open.
"Well?"
"We got in."
The hallway is gleaming white, with a marble floor and black art deco patterns dancing across the walls. The door is polished chrome.
Pollux breaks the silence. " Room 101. This is it."
Castor shoots Pollux a smile. "Eternity awaits."
Castor throws the door open.
Yoked guy in the back reading, and- well, I'm not surprised.
The girl from the entrance exam is talking the ears off of a black haired girl, whose drumming fingers are indenting the desk.
"And- Hey! You're that kill thief!"
Pollux raises an eyebrow. "Kill thief?"
Castor smirks. "I showed her up in the exam."
"You did not!"
"I damn well did. Five bucks says I got more than twice your score."
"You're on! 370!"
"Fuck. 529."
Castor hands her a five.
Pollux rolls his eyes. "When will you learn to stop making bets? You never win."
"Shove it."
The girl pipes up. "Hey!"
She holds out her hand.
"Atalanta Peleus."
Castor shakes her hand.
"Castor Dioscuri. This is my brother Pollux."
Pollux's eyes shine a bit brighter. "Did your parents minor in classics too?"
"What's a classics minor?"
Castor sees the opportunity, and goes for it. "Well, you certainly didn't get in on your written exam."
Atalanta's face is as red as her hair .
Castor turns to the other girl. "You. She your friend?"
The black haired girl snorts.
"Anastasia Romanov. And if you two are as talkative and stupid as she is, I'm throwing her and then myself out of a window. "
No one in the room had ever heard an accent that Slavic.
Castor pulls back a bit. "Atalanta, I was just pulling your chain. You seem more impulsive then stupid frankly."
"Just let her talk for a few minutes."
"I am not stupid!"
"Could you two move out of the doorway?"
The Dioscuris move aside for a tall, muscular boy with brown hair and brown eyes to enter the room.
"Aaron Rodgers…"
His mouth hits the floor. Everyone looks at his face, where he's looking , then back to his face.
Pollux says: "Subtlety is not your specialty, is it?
Castor appears disappointed. "Come on dude, you gotta be discreet with these kinds of things."
Atalanta's eyes narrow. One of her arms is encased in a metal gauntlet.
"Back of the class."
"Yes ma'am."
Castor wags his finger. "That's not very heroic of you."
"Fuck off."
" Neither is that."
Anastasia interjects. "Neither is 'you gotta be discreet with these kinds of things'."
"Friends!"
"My hatred of perverts does not mean I like you."
"Aw."
Pollux grabs Castors shoulder. "Come on, we're standing in the doorway."
Castor and Pollux take seats in the middle of class. The rest of the class files in, taking up the rest of the 18 seats. A minute goes by.
Castor looks to Pollux. "You think they're fucking with us?"
"Psychological training is a part of any good hero course. Day one is as good a time to start as any."
Silence follows a muscular, well groomed man in a shirt and slacks as he walks to the front desk.
Why's Pollux look so unnerved- oh shit.
The man speaks with a disquieting voice, venom covered over with seeming relaxation, like a sunbathing rattlesnake. "My name is Jonathan Ovarb, or Mr. O for short. I will be your teacher for the year. Follow me."
With that, he walks out of class, his students scrambling behind him.
The class stands loosely on a large dirt field behind the school. Ovarb stands in front of a chalk circle.
"Anyone want to guess why I dragged you out here?"
A short girl raises her hand.
"Name and answer."
"Antikythera Turing. Some kind of quirk testing?"
"No, but you were close. Today is going to be the opposite. I'm going to test what you can do when you can't use your quirks. Anyone want to guess why?"
Pollux begins to speak. "Not every quirk can be used in every situation. Sometimes, using your quirk could lead to casualties, even if used carefully, and the only way to deal with situations like that is with more conventional means."
"Astute. I've looked at the testing video of every one of you, and almost all of you need to learn the virtue of precision. You will be separated out into random pairs, and you will fight in that circle. First person to be pushed out, knocked out, or submits loses."
" Excuse me, Mr. Ovarb?" The class turns to look at Aaron.
"Name and question."
"Aaron Rodgers. How will you ensure that no one's quirk goes off on accident?"
"My quirk is nullification. If I touch you, I can turn off your quirk for up to a minute. Every new person I disable decreases the effective time of quirk by half."
Jonathan pulls out a tablet, and presses on the screen.
" First match up, Castor Dioscuri and Pollux Dioscuri."
Castor wears a wide grin, Pollux deflates.
"Yes!"
"Fuck."
Jonathan lays his hands on their shoulders as the two square up.
"When my hand leaves your shoulders, go at it."
He raises his hands. Castor has his foot planted into Pollux's gut before Jonathan has taken a step. Grabbing his arm, Castor plants both his knees on Pollux's left arm, which is across his back, and his hands on his head and right forearm.
"Lots of fun, as always, little brother."
The rattlesnake in Jonathan's voice twitches. "You two."
"Yeah?"
"You're near-identical twins. Similar heights, builds, although different musculatures, yet one of you is far superior at hand to hand combat. Explain."
"No problem."
He pulls Pollux's head out of the dirt.
"Use the cold stuff."
Pollux opens his mouth, and a thick, dark silver liquid pours out, the surface shifting as orange appears in a patchwork pattern.
Castor bolts off of him, blowing on his left hand.
" I thought you said to use the cold stuff."
"Fuck- that was the cold stuff- shit-"
Pollux stands up, his shirt rapidly catching fire.
"My quirk is-"
A wave of water hits him, soaking him from head to toe. The girl who shot the water out of her hand wilts under his gaze.
"My clothing is fire retardant."
"Sorry."
"My quirk is called Vesuvius. I can create lava from anywhere on or in my body, then manipulate it, or turn it into rock and back again."
"If the plumbing ever catches on fire, you know who to blame!"
"Dammit Castor! That only happened once!"
Castor slaps him on the back.
"As you can imagine, hitting someone covered in shit that burns at 2000 degrees is pretty fucking hard. Trust me."
Jonathan turns to the class. "This is a perfect example of what I mean by subtlety. This is the kind of quirk that could kill a lot of people if used carelessly. Next up, Aaron Rodgers and John Doe."
Huh, it's the guy from the back of the class.
Aaron and John square up, Jonathan places his hands on their shoulders. He looks at John for a brief second, and then he takes his hand off their shoulders. John blocks a spin kick with his arm, and then rushes Aaron. Aaron jumps, and John only avoids having his head taken off by rolling behind him. Grabbing Aaron, John suplexes him, and then quickly throws him out of the ring.
"Aaron. You had him on the back foot until he started to grapple with you. Explain."
"Never trained to wrestle."
"Why?"
"Quirk is five in one. I can land five hits on up to five things I can physically see. Can't really use wrestling moves like that. Frozen for two seconds after I use it though."
"Interesting. Next up, Fritz Cat and Frank Richards."
Fritz is a humanoid cat, with mostly black fur, except for a white face and paws. Frank has a big pair of brown mandibles around his mouth, antenna, and tough looking skin.
Timidity comes off of Frank. "Sir, considering our quirks-"
"Nullification works on any quirk. You'll still appear to be the same, and all the physical abilities will be the same, but any quirk related sensory abilities or physical augmentation you have will be negated for 30 seconds. If you two are too wacked out to fight, we'll call it a draw."
Fritz sighs. "Is spending 30 seconds slap fighting with a bug really a good use of my time?"
"Frank, if you win you get extra credit."
"How is that fair"
"Who said anything about fair? I won't tolerate insults in this fashion. From and to any of you. Here you are all equally worthless"
When Jonathan lets go the two stumble into one another, promptly falling over one another. Turgidly shuffling around, Frank raises a barely formed fist, and drops it onto Fritz's shoulder with a weak thud. A few seconds later, the two leap to their feet.
"Frank wins."
Fritz's tail triples in size. "What!"
"Unusual circumstances, and he landed a hit."
"But-"
"I'll expel you."
Hardcore.
The sun hangs over the Atlantic Ocean, the light sparkling off the waves. The sky will be red soon. Castor stands on the western edge of the huge brick path to the academy. He's a few inches from a step drop down into the vast expanse of green.
"Hey! Kill thief!"
Castor turns to Atalanta. "My name is Castor, you already know this."
She waves him off. "Yeah, whatever. Why're ya moping around staring off into the sea? And where's your emo brother?"
Castor almost falls off the cliff laughing.
"'Emo' Holy shit! I'm gonna tell him you said that!"
"Whatever. Lava can't melt steel beams."
"Guess not. I'm not moping. Just looking out at the sea."
"What's the deal with this drop?"
"If you're in the hero course, you fall off, and can't get up under your own power, you get auto expelled."
"Harsh. What if you die?"
"Not the first time it happened here."
"Well, that's hero training."
"Why are you talking to me?"
"Fight me!"
"Why?"
"You stole my kills and implied I was stupid!"
Castor shrugs. "Kill stealing is to be expected, and I implied you were uneducated and ignorant, not stupid."
"What do people associate with being ignorant and uneducated?"
"Stupidi- oh you're smarter than I thought."
"You thought?"
"Well I did think you were stupid."
That kick hurt a lot less than I thought it would.
Castor catches himself inches from the ground, blasts himself right to the top, and makes a hard stop right in front of Atalanta. Projecting a gangplank under his feet, he walks onto the brick path.
"You must be stupid, you've seen me fly before."
Atalanta scoffs.
"Whatever, manlet."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
She leans down, getting right in his face.
"Manlet."
He clenches his fists. "You think just because you're two inches taller than me-"
Atalanta ruffles his hair. "Aw, can the poor 6'2 manlet not cope with a girl being taller than him?"
Castor slaps her hand away. "You know what, I oughta kick your ass-"
Her grin is evil.
"Fine. You got your fight."
"YES! When do we go at it?"
Castor: Whenever I feel like it.
He turns and walks away.
"Goddamn it, you have to come up with a time! You can't just agree to a fight and walk away with no set time! What's wrong with you!?"
"See you tomorrow!"
"I'll put my foot in your ass! Don't walk away from me!"
That is the end of the first chapter. I don't know if there is someway you can add footnotes in a way that doesn't involve directly writing them into the story, so this is what I'm doing. This story germinated in the way I imagine a lot of oc MHA stories do, which is with thinking up a quirk. I thought up of at least 4 before I started to write this all down, the first being Castor's quirk, which is the ability to manipulate, absorb and release light, both as light and as a kind of energy (I think there's an MHA fanfic that gives Midoriya basically this power, didn't know about it before I thought up the quirk). Once you think of quirks, you start to think of characters, and because I didn't want to write them into the existing story, I just decided to set it in America, and that resulted in me thinking up more characters. The reason why there are only 18 seats in the hero course as opposed to 40 in the original is a mixture of laziness and impatience.
The reason why I set in America is two fold; A: I know a hell of a lot more about America than Japan (guess why) and B: America allows me to explore more of the political implications of quirks, which the original setting doesn't tackle as much as I'd like. I know more about American politics, and America, being a diverse two party state, as opposed to Japan, which is an (ethnically) homogeneous state that has a de-facto one party state has more potential fault lines, which will reflect in the more political nature of the post-quirk chaos (which was portrayed in MHA as being more of an enormous crime wave/power vacuum). The main story line (which probably won't get going for another few chapters) will also be of a more political nature. Shiggy is decent villain, but his motivation is really goddamn boring. It's the main reason why I liked overhaul so much, because he actually had goals (some of which, if you think about it, have merit to them) beyond "destroy everything I don't like".
Also, A LOT of these characters are expys of MHA characters, especially one of their teachers (eraserheads quirk is way too good for a class full of superhero students not to steal) but I am trying to make them distinct from the originals.
*The asterisk is because Atlas academy is based off of the never completed Palace of the Soviets, but more art-deco. I couldn't really find the words to describe the building, and I'm not going to insert 'based off of the never completed Palace of the Soviets, but more art-deco'.