'The power of a warp quirk cannot be ignored. With one warp quirk, the problems of logistics and travel time are eliminated. A single warp quirk can wage asymmetrical war against a larger enemy force. Being able to slip behind all defensive lines and attack where your enemy is weak magnifies the operating power of this small force. I propose that a single rifle platoon with a warp quirk is equivalent to a battalion. Furthermore, a platoon of quirk combatants the same size will have a force projection of no less than a full-sized regiment.'
—Excerpt from 'An Itinerant's Guide to Quirk Warfare' by Alexander Petros.
Today is a good day to be All For One, the Strongest Man Alive, though not the strongest to have ever lived. He is not so arrogant as to think himself the equal of the legends of the past—Hero, Titan, and Stormwind—but he is a close second. Of all who have come since, he is the only one worthy to be considered a contender.
The weather in Vancouver Island is beautiful. The sky is clear and the sun out in force. Well, given that it's the height of Summer, and the capital city plasters 'Beautiful British Columbia' on everything, anything less would be disappointing.
The sun won't set for another few hours. Which is good since he doesn't get much time in the sun so he may as well enjoy it.
Currently, he's seated on a large slab of stone he used to crush a group of heroes from Vancouver who thought they were ready to stand on his level. He's not sure who they are given how they fell in two seconds when he was focused on more important enemies.
Enemies like the broken body of the August General in Iron—a pretentious title for a weak man to claim—that he's using as a footrest. The Chinese agent, sent out as part of a reprisal strike against All For One through his allies on the island, had lasted just shy of five minutes. Which, all things considered, places him as one of the most powerful people alive.
Unfortunately, All For One is peerless in this modern era. Powerful doesn't cut it.
He huffs, amused. Even perfection isn't good enough. I wonder if you've grown, Toshinori.
The bodies of Celestial Archer and the Socialist Red Guardsman are strewn somewhere else on the farm that is now a battleground. The three members of the Great Ten battling together hadn't amounted to much more than a pleasant distraction from the boredom of controlling Japan from the shadows. Against enemies like Hawks and Endeavor, they'd force a draw at the very least, and he gives them even odds of victory.
A shame, he supposes, given that he'll have to hire someone to restore the farmland. No reason to have a farmer suffer without just cause. He'll make a large donation to whoever owns the land to forgive the devastation they've caused, half of it scorched to the ground and the other half a cratered wreck. Not least because this is the homeland of his allies.
"Was it not on this very spot that this organisation was founded centuries ago?" Sensei asks.
The woman near him looks up from her phone. She rolls her eyes, a starlingly young action though one that is endearing.
"You say that every time you're on the island."
"Do I? I suppose old age will do that to you." He rises. "And now your organisation has total control of Western Canada and the American Northwest. How fortuitous that the Hero Conglomerate chose today to attack."
He nods to the pile of corpses burning in the distance, dozens of the greatest heroes British Columbia, Alberta and Saskatchewan had to offer, now dead and forgotten. He's not sure which warp quirk brought them all here given that its owner fled as soon as the fighting started in earnest, before returning with a legion of reinforcements from the Americans.
Sensei had been so insulted with his gall that he had annihilated the legion immediately, not even letting them get an attack off.
"And suspicious," she adds.
"Come now, do you think they would be so underhanded as to use China's attack to launch their own assault in the hopes that you would whittle down a foreign invasion before crushing your organisation? Do you think the heroes would have then pinned the invasion on you in the aftermath? They certainly wouldn't have taken advantage of the unrest and suspicion in the aftermath to incarcerate anyone even vaguely affiliated with villainy. I very much doubt they'd tighten their laws until this province was little more than a police state run by heroes. That's conspiracy talk right there."
He nods towards the pile of corpses belonging to the Great Ten and their support staff, soldiers armed with quirks and ready for a war. He doesn't bother trying to see if he can see the plumes of smoke from the three ships that brought them over given that he sunk them a few hours ago.
He turns to face the other members of the Vancouver Island Villain Association, an organisation that he helped form centuries ago, and helps to this day. He doesn't control them even though he has a seat on the ruling council, but he does come to their aid when they request it.
A few dozen villains who look tired and weary and battered down by the years of facing off threats not just from Canada, but from the American Northwest, sit on the field. Some lie down, completely exhausted. Others still, are treating the injured, and carting those in critical condition to the field hospital that's being setup.
Still, there is an air of relief to them. They have just won the largest quirk battle since the Dark Ages when Warlords roamed freely and villains were synonymous with slaughter, not the villains of this modern era that are no more than vigilantes and revolutionaries. It is rare for more than a dozen quirks to battle in one battlefield. Today, however, over a hundred quirks clashed against each other.
It isn't only the farm that had been damaged. The coast the Great Ten had used is still on fire and there are smaller battles that occurred in the major cities, but most of the destruction had been contained to this vast tract of farmland.
He senses Kurogiri the moment he appears. His right-hand man looks agitated, his gases snapping and hissing more so than usual.
Sensei raises a hand to forestall anyone attacking his subordinate. That would be too awkward.
"Kurogiri," he says loudly. "How unexpected. I take it something horrible happened."
"Well, plainly put, we may be fucked."
Kurogiri glances at the many individuals behind him and the woman near Sensei.
"You're amongst allies," he says honestly. "Speak freely."
"Tomura kidnapped Izuku Midoriya."
He considers that for a minute, mulling over an endless array of scenarios and contingencies.
Izuku Midoriya, son of Hisashi Midoriya who is a threat because of his quirk—not to Sensei but to his organisations. Hisashi Midoriya who can call forth the Royal Guard and the assets of the Imperial Household. Hisashi Midoriya who has no problems throwing money at mercenaries. Hisashi Midoriya who will undoubtedly use abyssal assets in any battle.
Izuku Midoriya, the successor to All Might who is the only person to have forced a draw against All For One in two centuries. All Might with allies in the Hero Association that will answer his call because, when All Might goes to war, most people would willingly go to war.
He works through a thousand different connections between a hundred different organisations from the military to China and Australia and the Taiwanese remnants and abyssal cultists. It's a dense web of treachery, hate and tenuous alliances that he's spent most of his life manipulating to his desires.
Finally, he comes to one conclusion.
"Oh fuck," he says simply, cursing for the first time in decades.
All For One takes a deep breath and claps his hands together. Partly, it's to hide the sudden tremor running through his body and centre himself once more.
"Well, this was a fun diversion. If you'll excuse me, I have another war to win."
"Thank you as always, Sensei," their leader says, bowing. "Should you require aid, we will honour our debts to you."
He smiles freely, not worried about showing weakness.
"Come now, I do not abandon my allies. This is only natural."
"Will you speak to them before you leave?"
He sighs theatrically, but there is only fondness. He might as well enjoy a few minutes of peace before everything goes to hell.
All For One walks forward till he is at the edge of the slab. It places him higher than the other villains who observe him. Some, the youngest amongst them, do not know him, which is a shame. But he sees the reverence in their eyes and knows they are willing to trust him for his acts today if nothing else.
"When you're my age, you have an excuse to sit wherever you please," he says pleasantly. "How many of you are over forty? Over fifty? A century? None? And yet you sit in the dirt after your greatest victory. Get up."
And when they don't, he lets his overwhelming presence wash over them. It is heavy and cloying, a promise of destruction and unyielding strength.
"I said, get up."
They do so, wary, and some very close to pissing themselves. He doesn't blame them. Withstanding the full force of his killing intent is an accomplishment in and of itself. Obviously, he doesn't bring to bear even half of it, and not towards any single individual. He doesn't want them catatonic nor does he let it affect the medics and their patients.
"Eyes up, villains," he says strongly. "This is your country and this is your land. This is your moment and you have won. This is your victory against the heroes. You made China's Great Ten fall. You think you're scared for the future, but you're not. You think you're worried about the military, but you're not. That isn't fear. That's your sharpness, that's your power."
Someone slams their foot on the ground in tune with his words.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
It is a simple sound but it means much more than anything complicated.
"We are villains! There is no enemy we cannot beat. There is no hero stronger than us. You are the victors and the future belongs to you. Stand tall and never bend your back. We are villains and we are strong, we are sharp and we never feel fear. The future belongs to us!"
He raises his fist high in the sky and summons his power. He is the pinnacle of strength and the sky shatters at his command.
"VIVA la Revolution!"
For two centuries they have said those words. Today, the revolution is complete, and they are the victors. Today, the Villains have won.
"VIVA la Revolution!" they roar back. "VIVA! VIVA! VIVA!"
-TDB-
Izuku Midoriya doesn't like the look Kirishima gives him, equal parts disgust, revulsion and disappointment. They're friends and friends shouldn't look at each other with suspicion and distrust. Not when there's smoke in the air and their classmates are hurt. Not when everything is falling apart around them.
Things fall apart naturally given time. There's no reason to accelerate the forward arrow of time. There's no reason to break something that still stands.
"There's blood on your arm," Kirishima says calmly.
They both know he's not talking about Aoyama's blood as Izuku tries to keep his classmate from dying. He glances down at the red stains of Muscular's blood, dull yet vibrant against his skin. The villain he killed. Maybe there was no choice, and he tells himself that, but he feels no remorse for it.
Izuku swallows, glad that Kirishima can't see his face. It would be impossible to make a convincing lie right now.
"Yeah."
"What happened?" he asks. No, Kirishima demands that answer in a voice harder than steel and more unyielding.
"He was going to kill Kouta," he says weakly. "I couldn't let that happen."
"What did you do?" Kirishima asks.
Izuku stays silent for a beat, wondering how best to lie his way out of this situation.
And then the world lurches. It twists every which way rapidly and a part of him knows that his body is being squeezed into a shape crystal bones and dreaming gods should never be forced into.
What the fuck? Mikumo asks, bewildered.
The space is... not dark or even cast in shadow, but devoid of light, nonetheless. This isn't his domain in the slightest. It's a space that exists between the angles of time and beyond space. Even now, he can feel his perception of time shifting and fights against the sensation futilely.
And then the world shifts and Izuku's body elongates, returning to its natural state. The crystal lattices of his bones return to their nominal places, his organs shifting so that they aren't pulped by the sudden collision.
Izuku comes out swinging. He operates purely on instinct, lashing out with a vicious kick.
It hits someone and he's maxing out One For All to enhance his perception. The one he kicked is the lizard guy—didn't I fucking deal with him?—currently on the ground and holding his torso in pain. There's another villain in a theatrical yellow costume. A girl he doesn't know being carried by a much larger woman.
The gunshot makes him freeze.
He turns his head and sees the pale-haired villain from USJ. Then his brain catches up with the gun in his hand pointed at an unconscious Kouta Izumi.
"Do you think you're fast enough? I know you specced into a dex build but are you willing to take the risk?"
Those words make little sense to him but he understands the warning well enough.
"Don't you dare," he warns, feeling the darkness in the room deepen.
The shadows vibrate, a promise of endless darkness snuffing out every hope and dream and moment of human kindness. There are dead gods dreaming in the base of his spine and they threaten to spill out, threaten to build a throne out of blood and bone and unreal logic.
He forces a grin that is endless hunger and a wave of darkness that will subsume reality in anathema logic and crystal madness.
The villain digs the gun into Kouta's temple. "You sure you can live with that?"
For a moment, he doesn't care. All he wants is to beat them down, to break them over his knee and see them ruined for their crimes against him and his school. It would be so easy if he is willing to sacrifice the boy. The villain wouldn't even realise he is dead. The others might be able to react, but if he wants, they'll all be dead in a few seconds
They have no right to command him. He is a king, god with a big G, and greater than they will ever be. They live only because he permits it, and right now, he's close to seeing them die for their audacity.
Right now, he's willing to see the world die to satiate his desire for vengeance. Everyone even tangentially involved in hurting his friends needs to die, and they need to do so immediately.
Then he stops, forcing his rage away. There's a life on the line and it isn't his to gamble away.
The shadows lighten and the immensity of a world under eternal darkness vanishes.
The odds aren't in his favour. Being able to kill them means nothing if he fails to save Kouta, especially after he promised to save him earlier.
As he's learnt in the abyss, promises are the most important thing in existence.
"You're a fucking monster but you're not invincible."
You're chained only by your morals, brother mine. You are a God. Is the life of one boy worth your dignity? Is that all it takes to bind a God? You could win and end it all. Are you going to waste this chance?
He stares at kouta's unconscious form and knows the answer to that question.
A little girl in a sunflower dress haunts him as his greatest failure. He doesn't want to add this little boy to that list.
"What's your name?" Izuku asks calmly. "Tell me so that I know the name of the person I kill if a single hair on his head is harmed. Because I promise you this, there is nothing in this world that will stop me from ripping you apart."
He raises his hands peaceably, palms up.
"Cuff me or fuck off."
The villain scoffs. "Not today. Compress, show our guest his fellow captives."
The monitor behind the villain comes to life. It's split into four sections, each showing a prisoner.
Mandalay.
Pixie Bob.
Ragdoll.
Yaoyorozu.
Izuku grits his teeth. "You bastards."
Someone behind him giggles, not that he pays any heed to it. There are more important concerns in front of him.
"You're right," the pale villain agrees, "there is no physical restraint that could stop you. But you're a hero and that makes you weak. Can you live with their deaths?"
The bluster he's cultivated vanishes. The answer to that question is simple. There's no world in which a hero will let innocents die.
Izuku wants to be a hero more than anything.
"The name's Shigaraki," the villain says, smirking cruelly. "Now here's what's going to happen. You behave and nothing bad happens to them. You try to escape, I'll kill the girl first. You do anything that I think is suspicious, then I'll kill the boy. But only if you do something."
"I hate you. One day, I'll have your life in my hand and I'll remember this moment," Izuku promises and he means to keep it.
"Toga, collar time."
He tenses when someone touches him. But then the villain digs the gun further into Kouta's temple, forcing him still.
The collar is metal and cold on his neck. It doesn't seem to warm up to body temperature no matter how long it stays on.
"This device is pretty simple. There's a signal constantly being sent between the collars and this base. Yours is the master collar. If that signal stops sending, well, they'll be a fine red paste. Do you understand?"
He doesn't respond because he's afraid he'll leap forward and strangle the villain, odds be damned. This isn't just cruel, it's shameful and embarrassing. He's the strongest person in this room, and they all know it, and yet he's being controlled.
"I asked you a question. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he grits out.
"What do you understand?"
"If I try to escape, they die."
"If you try to tamper with the collar, the signal stops sending. Do you understand? If you piss me off, then five people die and that's on you."
Izuku sighs. There are too many people here to fight and too many who will die if he tries. Shigaraki and Toga, a bulky woman and a reptile, and finally the man in yellow. They have total control.
No, they don't, Mikumo whispers. They have the illusion of control. Show them the strings.
"Alright, take me to your leader," he demands. "Hurry up."
"What?" Shigaraki snaps.
"You're not the leader of this operation. Maybe you lead the goon squad but you'd have been arrested a long time ago. The only reason I'm here and standing, instead of chained to a cell like the rest, is because your boss wants to meet me. Now take me to him and stop wasting your very finite life."
Sometimes, all it takes is a bit of confidence and bravado to get what you want.
These villains, or Shigaraki at the very least, aren't threats to him. They would never have the audacity to take him if they knew who his father was. Maybe they didn't have that information, which means they're going to perish in a few hours.
Or, more chillingly, they knew and didn't care. And only a powerful backer could do that. Only someone as powerful as All Might could do that.
There is only one man who fits that description. The one person All Might fears.
Izuku glares at Shigaraki.
"Take me to your master."
They do so. Kouta is passed to the lizard with orders to kill him should anything seem suspicious. To his surprise, the lizard shifts uncomfortably for a split second before taking the boy.
He's shoved forward through a dozen different brightly lit corridors that look identical. He's long ago lost any sense of direction.
The room is shrouded in shadows, too uniform to use. The scent of antiseptic burns his nose and he can hear the beeping of a medical device. He feels he should know, given how often he's been in a hospital.
It bothers Izuku that the man is so still, not even displacing the shadows around him.
Remember that they hold the illusion of control. You can break it only by playing their game.
Shigaraki shoves him forward and he stumbles.
"Sensei," Shigaraki says brightly, and not at all the dry and menacing Izuku is used to. "We failed to retrieve one of the targets but we made up for it with this one."
"You did well, Shigaraki," the man says in a deep voice distorted by the breathing apparatus Izuku can barely see. "But I believe young Midoriya has all the answers we need. I can't help but find myself curious. Leave us."
He only just manages to hear Shigaraki swallow then laugh lightly. "Sure, sensei. I'll see to the others."
"Hello, my boy," the man says after his servant is gone. "I've heard much about you."
"Hi," he says softly, naïve innocence lacing every word. "Who are you?"
The man cocks his head and it is unnerving seeing a statue move.
"Have a seat," he says instead.
There is a plain wooden chair. He contemplates rebellion. Decides everything hurts and sitting hurts less than standing.
Besides, there's less a chance of someone dying if he behaves.
"I will be very disappointed if you can't figure out my name, though I sincerely doubt you don't already know it. I saw your fight against Endeavour's son. You broke him down to size with a few words and… saved him." He says the word with the same tone as a parent trying to break a child's bad habits. "Don't tell me that intelligence was a single occurrence."
Izuku inhales deeply and winces. Everything still feels broken from the fight with Muscular. But the pain brings clarity. And if his mind is clear, he can make a plan to win.
"I don't know your name," Izuku says with a level of calm he doesn't feel in the slightest.
"I know you do." He sounds amused. It makes Izuku's arm tremble. "I will admit I was surprised that Tomura liked you so much. He hates All Might and I very much expected him to hate his successor."
"I'm not and he hates me," he says fiercely. "You know for a fact that my quirk is Shadowshield."
The man chuckles roughly and it makes Izuku wonder what trauma his vocal cords have gone through. "Would you like to try again? One For All incorporates any quirk the wielder has. We both know this as we both know who Toshinori Yagi is."
Everything is wrong about this. The man is All For One, the same man that wounded All Might and ordered an attack on his class. This is the same man responsible for every injury his friends have suffered. Worse still, if any of them died—which he hopes is simply a walking nightmare—then this man is responsible.
And yet, there isn't a single hint of malice. Interest and empathy in spades, yes, but not a single fleeting instance of cruelty.
Izuku shakes his head, uncertain.
"Shall we dispense with the falsehoods, dear boy?"
It isn't a question. There's a threat in villain's voice, a warning to avoid antagonising him. This, now, is something Izuku understands.
"All For One," he says blandly. "They call you the strongest man alive. I mean to see you dead, regardless."
The villain rumbles. It takes Izuku a moment to realise he's laughing.
"Yes, I suppose I can see why Toshinori chose you."
"Why am I here?" Izuku asks. "You know exactly who I'm related to."
"You're a hero through and through," the villain says instead, ignoring him. "That is why Yagi chose you. You gave your life to save your teacher, and you can't imagine how angry it made Tomura by defeating his favourite Nomu so handily. And then you stood against Stain, a man Tomura hates almost as much as Yagi, and you tore down his ideals. You picked apart every fault in his thinking during the heat of battle. What was it you said, 'we can make a paradise so long as we have a will.'"
He nods his head as though in respect.
Izuku doesn't want his acknowledgement, especially not when he can't tell what's right and who this man is supposed to be. He's supposed to be a criminal, ruthless like Tomura and more malevolent than Muscular. Except he's just praising Izuku like a teacher—or maybe a fond uncle—would. It hurts his head and only the pain gives him enough clarity to not simply agree.
And it's so fucking hard after Kirishima left him unbalanced, questioning every action he's taken so far.
"Unfortunately, those same qualities that make you a good hero make you weak as well. Tell me, dear boy, how easily could you have escaped if you wished it? If you were willing to sacrifice five lives."
"Fuck off."
The villain makes a sound deep in his chest, almost like thunder.
"Yui Ikari is a woman I admire greatly," the villain says, amused, but changing the subject. "Using her words alone would have earned you my respect, young Midoriya. But you also cut down the entire Modern Age of Heroes as well. You are truly vicious to tear down the pillar your mentor stands on. And you said it so articulately and passionately during your interview that it moved Tomura. Very little does so, and yet, your words did so. Can you imagine the reaction the world had to your words? How old are you? Fifteen? And yet, you spoke so casually and succinctly of a societal revolution that anyone could follow your words and thoughts. Why, I think, even Spinner quotes you now."
The lizard guy, Izuku wonders but tilts his head in confusion, a plan already forming.
Lock it away, Mikumo snarls, reprimanding him like a lightning strike. Whatever you're thinking, lock it away. He'll see if you don't.
He's never felt so outmatched before, at least not like this. He knows that everything he doesn't say and every controlled reaction gives the man the answers he's looking for.
"He wasn't the biggest threat," he says instead.
All For One pauses and then laughs, clear and bright despite the distortion and breathing apparatus.
"I hope he didn't harm you too much," the villain says, meaning his arm. "Sometimes, it seems they forget I don't condone the deaths of children."
Izuku stills, his hands balling up into fists.
He laughs, because that's all that he can handle, and it sounds like he's both sobbing and choking. Because how fucking absurd is that idea? There's a collar around his neck, and if he tries anything, Kouta and Momo will die.
That certainty is all that stops him from ripping All For one limb from limb.
"Really now," he says between a choke and a sob, grief and rage warring inside him.
He doesn't care that All For One is watching him carefully, dissecting his reaction. "Is it truly so difficult to imagine?"
"Maybe you should have told Muscular that before he tried to kill a little kid for standing in the wrong place."
He only realises his mistake after the fact.
The wave of dread from this man silences him, makes him want to run far far away because there is no surviving this. It's like seeing the deepest depths of the abyss, the monsters who only care for death and destruction, contained in a single human. Izuku is confident in his powers but now he understands All Might's warnings to flee from the man if he ever saw him.
This mortal man is as close as you get to god with a capital G whilst staying purely human. Every instinct tells Izuku that he can't win a fight against him. Sure, he could die and that would solve the issue, but he knows the villain would never allow that.
"He did what?"
This isn't like Muscular. Comparing All For One to Muscular is to compare a bonfire to an erupting volcano. The difference in magnitude is so large that it might as well be infinite.
"Would he have happened to come back with the rest of the Vanguard Action Squad?"
Izuku knows, just knows, that he can't win in a fight against this man. Martial prowess means nothing if you can't stand and you're a moment away from shitting your pants. His only saving grace is that this menace is directed towards someone else.
It isn't that he hasn't seen beings more terrible and fearsome—in his spine reside dead gods dreaming and waiting for a chance to consume the stars—but seeing it in a human, one without a shred of abyssal divinity, leaves him truly stunned. It makes him wonder at the strength of Hero and Titan and Stormwind, those who towered over everyone else. Would they have the same presence? Could the threat of their malevolence freeze armies and kill the weak-willed?
If they truly stood at the pinnacle of the world, then doesn't that make them physical gods? If they had touched a shard of abyssal divinity, would they rule over the world as iron gods, their strength reshaping continents on a whim?
"No," he whispers.
"Good."
And just like that Izuku can breathe again.
He inhales deeply, not caring that it hurts. There is no menace, no indication that this man nearly crushed his spirit from a fit of anger directed at someone not even in the same room.
It makes Izuku nervous. Which is real? The rage and malice, or the calm praise? Are they both equally true?
Focus, Mikumo snarls furiously. Everything he says is part of a plan, one move in a chess match. You're a piece and he controls both sides.
Izuku looks at All For One. Sees the villain's relaxed posture. Accepts that simple fact.
Listen to me, brother mine. I am here and he doesn't know. I will be the keeper, the lock and key. Your strength lay in truths, mine in secrets. Together, we can defeat him. But you must show weakness.
"I take it you fought him?" Izuku nods. "How did you defeat him?"
You must show him your truths until he believes them. Manipulate him with your honesty until he shows you his heart. That will be the moment you strike.
Izuku swallows and trembles, looking away. He doesn't want to answer. He's not ready to acknowledge the truth.
"My boy"—Don't call me that—"I will not press you to answer. Have you read the works of Hinata Ononoki? I see that you have. So, tell me, do you believe that you acted in accordance with the law? Did you uphold it strictly and without mercy?"
It hurts because he respects the woman and agrees with much of what she says.
She was one of the great quirk philosophers and her works had negotiated peace treaties. What is he supposed to say to that? He's being absolved by a villain, the same villain who ordered Muscular's attack, and maybe it is because All For One gave the order that he is forgiving Izuku without knowing the details.
The truth is that you are scared and lonely and shamed. Show him that truth. Use that truth. Let him win this battle and each battle to come until the very last. And then, you will kill him.
The tears stream down his face before he can stop them. And he doesn't want to cry before this man. Physical weakness isn't the same as emotional. But his chest hurts from much more than his fight with Muscular.
His heart feels like it's going to break.
"My dear boy," All For One says softly, compassionate yet without pity. "What did you have to do?"
The way he says it, as though Izuku had no choice, makes it infinitely worse. Comfort and kindness should not come from his enemy. Yet it has.
"I killed him."
The sound he makes is animal grief and human empathy rolled in one. Taking a life is no easy task.
It may have been easy in the heat of the moment when Kouta's life was on the line but seeing Kirishima's disgust and revulsion had rocked him right to the core. Knowing one of his closest friends could look at him like a savage beast had shaken loose every fear he thought tightly hidden and brought them to the forefront.
"I killed him. I couldn't win and keep Kouta safe. Not without—not without doing it. He was too fucking strong!" Izuku shouts suddenly and then whispers, "And I was too weak."
He looks at his hands, sees the scars and bumps, sees every flaw and imperfection, and realises that the scarred exterior is infinitely better than the monster within, hiding beneath a thin veneer of humanity. Those hands have blood on them, blood taken willingly through force and violence.
Doesn't that make him a villain?
"I was too weak to be a hero."
"I believe I can understand you now, my boy," the villain says, and it's so much like All Might that he wants to scream and rage and just accept the kindness.
Izuku shuts his eyes and wants to shut his ears as well.
"I have seen heroes kill for less and not feel remorse. I have seen villains save others and fight fiercely for those they love—you know very well of Shinobu's Vow. You are neither. You are simply a boy and a boy should not make the choices you have had to."
He's lying, Mikumo screams desperately. Remember the malice. Trust in his rage. Don't forget that you're a piece on a board.
Izuku takes a deep breath. Centres himself through the pain in his arm and torso. Accepts that he has lost this battle.
He feels the shadows around All For One twist. The man can tell. His smile is gentle yet victorious.
"But I had to," he says finally, playing the role with perfect sincerity. "This world is cruel."
"Yes, it is. Your teachers espouse its virtues, yet you have seen the grim reality of this era. They did not teach you to think critically and yet you learnt despite their failings. They taught you through lies and logical ruses, but you have found strength in empathy and honesty."
He grits his teeth so hard that a few break. He swallows tooth shards and crystal bone and thick blood, not wanting to give away anything.
The villain smiles benevolently at Izuku. "I had wanted to see the boy who might one day grow to become my greatest enemy. I wished to take your measure and hoped that you might come to see the man I truly am. Despite my misgivings, I must applaud Toshinori's teaching skills. I never once thought he would groom a successor for me."
Izuku recoils, raising his head in defiance. He lets the mask slip, and maybe it's a mistake, but he doesn't bother hiding any of his bottomless rage.
"I would never," he spits out, acid and hate lacing every word. "Do not. For a single second. Think I'll be like you."
Calm down. Everything he says is a trick, a method to elicit a reaction. He's adjusting everything for you. Every truth he says is based on your previous reaction.
"Oh," he says like a parent humouring a child's newest discovery. "So, you don't believe that this system of monetary gain and wealth in exchange for heroics is a detriment? You don't believe that this ranking system leads to corruption? You don't believe the government has failed too many people? You don't believe in Shinobu's Vow? Believe in any of those things and society will label you a villain just as I am called a villain. Were your words merely the boast of a fanciful child?"
His bones creak from how tightly he's clenching his fist. "I never meant it like that."
"Really now. How many villains have been labelled so simply because they disagreed with the systems put in place?"
Too many, Izuku knows. Any number more than zero is too many. Izuku won't rest until the world isn't like that. He won't rest until good people can be happy and safe and protected.
He won't rest until a girl in a sunflower dress can grow up to be happy.
"That doesn't excuse villainy."
"Civil liberties exist only so long as you have power. You wish to change the system, as do I. Our methods might differ, but our goals ultimately align. A word of warning, Izuku, already many people call you a villain for your words against Stain. They remember your fight against Endeavour's son and the strength you displayed, and they fear your code of ethics and charisma. They remember your interview and fear your candid vulnerability. How many heroes will side with you when you take away the system they profit from?"
He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath. Every word the villain says is one of his fears articulated. Didn't he see many of his classmates disgusted when he said Stain was right? If they, the people who know him best, find it hard to trust in him, then what of a stranger?
If Kirishima can look at him as an enemy, then anyone can. If a friend can turn on him in a moment, then the world most certainly will.
"I can tell you wish to believe otherwise. A trade, perhaps. An honest answer for an honest answer."
Izuku eyes the man warily. Everything he has said has been honest, as far as he can tell. He nods, though, because this may be a chance to learn something from the villain.
Perhaps, he can uncover a secret to destroy All For One.
"I will permit you to ask your question first as a sign of goodwill." That surprises Izuku. "Obviously, I will not tell you the location of this base or anything that will aid you in escaping."
"Obviously," Izuku says wryly. "Why don't you condone the deaths of children when you're prepared to kill two of them if I escape?"
"Because it is the best way to chain you. But the children won't die first. It won't be young Kouta or Yaoyorozu. No, it will be Pixie Bob or Mandalay or Ragdoll who die first. And you won't accept their deaths. No hero borne of All Might's image would."
Izuku swallows. That is chillingly callous. There are three adults who stand to die if Izuku tries anything, and there's no guarantee that the villain will kill them quickly. It may be long and arduous torture first.
"You must learn to be more specific with your questions," the villain says gently. "I will give you another answer freely."
"Why?"
The villain chuckles. "Because I can. Hear me well. I don't condone the deaths of children because of the system of ethics that governs my life. Children and innocents are safe from me. And now you think of the Sports festival and think I am a hypocrite. But you see, my plan would have only destroyed an uninhabited part of the stadium. The ones who went against my plan were punished."
"What did you do to them?"
"To one, I took away his hands," the villain says casually. "And to the other, I broke his spirit. This attack on your camp was conducted whilst I was on the other side of the world. I'll investigate the matter and give out appropriate punishments to those involved. I do not betray my ethics, dear boy. And now, for my question."
Be ready for it, Mikumo warns. It will shatter your defences.
He tenses, prepared for whatever the villain may ask.
"Do you regret killing Muscular?"
"Yes," he says easily.
The malice returns. It is a crushing tidal wave of hate and malevolence, an elder god's will imposed upon the world. This is the power of a man who can reshape a nation.
And it fucking terrifies Izuku because no human should feel like a monster from the abyss whilst being entirely human.
"An agreement between men must always be kept." The villain leans forward, easing the pressure just a bit. "I'll ask you again. Do you regret killing him?"
He feels numb answering.
"No," he says, forced honest by fear and terror and resignation. Forces honest by the shape of his plan for victory. He can't lie or hide a truth if he wishes to win. No, Izuku must lay bare his soul for this villain to dissect.
The villain makes a sound of amusement before the pressure vanishes completely. The weight of the world disappears.
"I think I enjoyed it," he admits to the beep of a villain's heartbeat.
He remembers the sense of conquest, the heady rush of victory and dominance. He remembers being so tempted to plunge his hand into Muscular's chest and rip out his heart, to consume it and grow fat from his strength.
The only thing that had stopped him had been Kouta. A mortal boy had chained a god's desires. Maybe, that's why he did what he did to the Nomu.
Izuku shuts his eyes. "And then I killed the Nomu because I could."
Who judges God but God himself?
-TDB-
Kurogiri answers his master's call the moment it comes, warping away from his surrogate son.
"Kurogiri," Sensei says the moment he arrives. "Do you understand what Tomura has done by bringing that boy here?"
"Declared war on the Imperial family."
"Hisashi brokered the peace between me and your former family. And now, we've taken the son of a singularly dangerous entity. I do not doubt that he will mobilise the Royal Guard to enact a kill order."
"Then send him back," Kurogiri says calmly. "I can have him returned to his home immediately. The one who hurt him is dead and we can pay reparations should it come to that."
"Yes, we could return him. Heal him, even."
Kurogiri freezes. He has never heard hesitance in Sensei before. Consideration, yes, but not hesitance. He sweeps his gaze over the great villain, noting the tiny muscles twitch in his neck.
"You don't want to," he says, horrified.
Sensei stays silent for a beat.
"You've seen my power, and I assure you, it is nothing compared to my prime. One For All has… worn me down over the centuries, one tiny injury after another until All Might's most recent blow. Unlike other wounds, they never fully heal. Given time, One For All will win if all torchbearers continue to oppose me. A part of me knows I can never get the quirk back, but if the next wielder is not a hero, then even if they oppose me, I will have won the future."
Kurogiri is incredulous, tilting his head as though hearing an Alien language for the first time.
"That boy will never be a villain. Even you admitted to that."
"No, he won't, but maybe he can be something different," Sensei says. "Maybe he can move past the definitions of heroes and villains and vigilantes. Maybe he can force us into a new era."
"This is madness."
"Yes, it is, but the only difference between madness and genius is success."
"This is a path to failure," he snaps.
"I will kill All Might and fulfil my half of the agreement we mad on that mountain decades ago," Sensei says softly. "But the spirit of One For All will pass down to another who will perpetuate the same system and eventually, our ideals will fail. But this boy is… he is not a hero, not yet at least. He can be shown the truth."
Understanding blossoms, unfurling like the petals of a lotus, and dread fills his heart.
"You're willing to gamble the League against the heroics industry. Against UA." He meets the eyes of this singularly dangerous man. "Against the Royal Guard. You wish to face Japan in its entirety for the sake of one boy."
"This boy represents All Might's legacy. He represents the future of heroics. If he turns away from heroics, then we win. Permanently. If he falls, then never again will there be an age of heroes."
"If you fail, then we all die for nothing. The Guard will find us. Hisashi knows our bases."
"Not all of them." Sensei stands, filling the room with his dark presence. "There are some which I built to hide against abyssal means of detection as a final contingency."
"That isn't guaranteed. Hisashi is… mad on his best days. I do not want to face him mad with grief."
"Nothing is ever guaranteed. The best you can hope for is that you have chosen wisely. In people most of all. I cannot achieve this ultimate victory without you." There is cruel honesty there. "Of all my subordinates, none have served as well as you in two centuries. I wish, often, that you sought more than All Might's death. You are strong-willed, patient, and cunning. You have the makings of a good leader. A good successor. Perhaps the best I've ever known. You were the one I most hoped would succeed me."
Sensei stands before him and does something impossible. With one hand glowing a deep and vibrant gold, he lays his hand on Kurogri's shoulder, on his flesh and blood shoulder.
The sensation of his quirk disappearing in that one area is disquieting, almost nauseating. How long has it been since he felt wind and warmth through human flesh, and not an analytical interpretation of gaseous interaction? When was the last time he felt this human?
Decades?
Maybe never.
"Will you stand by me? I will kill All Might. But to destroy his legacy totally, I need your aid. I can only end this age of heroes with your strength. I will make you the legend that set a new era in motion. I just need you to fight alongside me a bit longer, my friend."
There is an earnestness to Sensei that is stunning. The man is being totally honest with him, hiding nothing. Kurogiri can see his weariness, the weight of two centuries on his shoulders, and the burden of being the Strongest Man Alive.
This is like seeing the secrets of the universe revealed before your very eyes.
To have Sensei call him a friend is like nothing he's ever felt before. It leaves him feeling light. It leaves him feeling free.
He feels grateful, more than ever, to have had the pleasure of knowing Sensei. How can he ever betray the trust of the only person who has been honest with him from the beginning?
How can he ever forsake his one friend?
"What do you wish of me?" he says, willing to trust Sensei one more time and every time after this.
Sensei relaxes, the tension in him suddenly disappearing. It's like watching a power station shut down, the eerie hum of power that you forget about fading away.
"We have the advantage whilst they regroup. From what my spy tells me, UA is still in disarray and no official communications have been sent. We have a tiny window to operate in. Your first objective is to relocate essential League personnel to our new primary facility. Secondary combat personnel will be moved to smaller hideouts."
"It will be done."
"Good. We will have to destroy their capability to track us. The police force investigative division will be your targets. Naomasa Tsukauchi's death is a priority. Despite appearances, he is a senior official in the state's intelligence apparatus. I will provide secondary targets. Do not hesitate. Show no mercy. And eliminate officers as you see fit to demoralise them. Finally, I will give you control of the Nomu."
"All of them?"
"All but a few High-end Nomu. Use them to wreak havoc across Japan. Utilise our combat personnel to supplement them. Your primary goal is to attack strategic locations—police stations, hero agencies and military command posts are prioritised—and sow fear in our enemies. This is a delaying action. We have the momentum and we must maintain it until we destroy All Might's legacy. Stay no longer than you must and never fight unless you have every advantage. You can't absorb casualties."
"I've never led an operation of this scale."
"I will give you the quirks of Ragdoll and Mandalay. Use them to coordinate. With them, you can monitor the status of a hundred people and send them orders instantly. With your warp quirk, you can provide support as needed."
It happens suddenly. He feels the pain of needles stabbing through his shoulder and shudders. Something foreign and alien snakes its way through the bits of him that are flesh before joining his gaseous body. It's like all the blood in your body suddenly flowing in reverse, something different and disquieting.
The feeling of another quirk is disconcerting.
But at the same time, it isn't him who has the other two quirks.
Every time he uses his warp quirk, there are always three iterations of Kurogiri, two of which are destroyed by the universe resolving that paradox. He thought they were oddities of his quirk, no truly separate entities. Yet, the burden and strain of the additional quirks aren't forced on one person, but split between three entities.
One Kurogiri feels his mind expand as he perceives his master in a new fashion. The man before him is like an endless pool of power to his senses and Kurogiri knows he will always be able to track Sensei no matter where he goes. He senses the injuries Sensei has accumulated in his lifetime, a staggering number of wounds that would have killed any normal human a thousand times over.
The second quirk sees Sensei's mind as a signal tower that he can communicate with at any time. There should be a range to it, he knows almost instinctively, but when combined with the other quirk, no distance is large enough to separate them.
They could be separated by the span of a galaxy, and Kurogiri would still be able to speak with his master.
Finally, the Kurogiri who exists in the real world hums. Is this working?
Sensei tilts his head. "Yes. I believe this is working."
Sensei steps back and Kurogiri's shoulder returns to its gaseous state. The Strongest Man Alive with over a dozen quirks held in his body, each capable of elevating a single man to competing for the top ten spots, claps his hands together.
It gives Kurogiri a headache trying to track the interplay of quirks there. At least three separate vitality quirks and a regenerative quirk as well. One hardening quirk and a few to affect the natural laws to varying extents. Many more supplementary quirks that he can't figure out.
The strongest two, however, are like supernovas compared to the rest. One is like the sky shattering beneath the immensity of Sensei's power. The other quirk feels like the atmosphere itself. It feels like the power to threaten Japan and rule it without challenge.
"Extract every operative we have working with the Royal Family. All non-combat personnel are to go into hiding. No matter how this ends, the foundation will still be in place for whoever comes next."
Kurogiri nods.
"And Tomura?" he asks though he can feel the boy.
He's in a room with Dabi and Spinner, calm for the moment. His senses expand outward and he feels Magne and Twice and Compress, Kouta and Yaoyorozu, the remaining Pussycats—two lacking their quirks and the other pumped full of drugs—and the miscellaneous staff they have on hand to keep the facility running.
He stays the fuck away from sensing Hisashi's son. There is something altogether too terrifying when he tries, a whisper in the back of his mind that speaks of death, and a form of power so alien—yet so similar to Kurogiri's warp quirk—that it almost disperses his body.
Sensei, thankfully, doesn't notice Kurogiri nearly die to the dead gods dreaming in a boy.
"Should my gambit fail then you are to do everything in your power to ensure his survival. Sell out the League if you must, but do not let him fall. Protect and raise him."
"He was meant to lead."
"I will not risk him. They know you and have seen you before. The League respects you, but in Tomura, they see a child with too much power." Sensei shakes his head. "He cannot know. Tell him that he is to organise the Vanguard and security for the new facility. Whatever it takes to keep him away from this war."
Sensei steps back even further, giving Kurogiri room to breathe and think, even though his presence is even heavier now that Kurogiri can accurately sense the power he holds.
"This is a heavy burden. Can you do it?"
It is an honest question and he knows, just knows with every fibre of his being, that Sensei would accept it if Kurogiri said no. He would accept Kurogiri's decision to leave and flee from the coming war.
Kurogiri nods, accepting the responsibility he must now bear.
It is crushing in its immensity. His only goal for the longest time had been to All Might die. Now, he is thrust into the forefront to bear a burden only he is suited for.
And yet, that this authority is given so freely is a testament to the man he calls Sensei.
"I will follow you to the very end."
All For One chuckles, a deep promise of violence to come. A warning to their enemies. But to Kurogiri, it brings only a comfort. After all, that malevolence is directed only at their enemies.
"I know you would. Now go. Victory only comes to those with the will to grasp it. The future is promised only to those with the strength to take it by force. Stain your hands red and destroy this society that would take away an innocent child from a father."
Ino, Akane, I hope you understand.
Kurogiri opens a warp gate. One becomes three. At the end of his journey watched over by creatures of cruel machination, two fade away and only the man Sensei trusts enters the room where the Vanguard is gathered.
"Pack your things," he commands coldly cold and unwavering. "We are moving facilities. You have three minutes to get your possessions."
"What the fuck?"
Kurogiri turns his sulphurous yellow eyes on Spinner. "You fools started a war with the Royal Family by taking Midoriya. The people who sunk an island will come for us. They will see all of us dead if you waste any more time. Now go. You have two minutes."
"You aren't—"
"Silence," Kurogiri growls, cutting off Dabi. "The fragile peace keeping Japan from civil war has just been broken. In a few hours, there's going to be fighting on every island and every city. Spinner, contact Compress and get our guests ready for transport. Now move."
He doesn't wait for a response and walks through another warp gate. He gathers up the facility's staff, giving them no chance to ask questions before he transports them to the new facility they are using.
"I'll explain soon," he promises to the group of twenty.
And then he's gone, relaying orders and commands to the League of Villains. They're startled, unnerved by the sheer speed at which he moves and gives orders.
"You need to go to ground," he orders the Division Commander of Shikoku. "Every operative you have, tell them to get out. Stock up on resources and supplies. Don't waste time."
And then he's gone once more. He heads towards the hideouts of the League's combat cells and wastes no time.
"We're at war," he says to people who have lived their entire lives fighting in warzones across the world. He opens warp gates for them and they move through them without question.
Finally, when that is done, he returns to the facility and finds Tomura standing alone. His expression is carefully blank but his eyes reveal everything.
He knows.
"I'm sorry," Kurogiri says.
"The League was meant to be mine," Tomura says, a deep sense of sadness filling his voice. He isn't unintelligent despite his immaturity.
"You took Izuku Midoroya, the son of the man who keeps Sensei in line. You're not powerful enough yet to stand on this stage."
"I haven't made you proud, have I?"
Kurogriri stills, uncertain of Tomura for the first time in years. Kurogiri has always thought of him as a son and he's watched him grow into a man. The pride he feels is pervasive, his love for Tomura a cornerstone to his existence. He had always thought those feelings unrequited.
Perhaps Tomura does care for Kurogiri just as much as Kurogiri cares for him.
"You've made me prouder than you can imagine. But if you fight this battle, you will die." He offers what amounts to a smile with a body made of mist. "And I refuse to let you die."
No matter what it takes, Tomura will die old and surrounded by those he loves. It'll be the greatest gift Kurogiri can give to his son.
-TDB-
Naomasa Tsukauchi is a tired man.
UA has just been attacked, a coordinated strike that occurred simultaneously with five others in the area. Those attacks had stymied rescue operations, held up heroes, and destroyed the communications network which left the area a dark zone.
It is one of the most effective assaults they've organised, with a level or precision Naomasa would be hard pressed to match. He wonders if they hired foreign militants to aid them, then discards that thought. He knows exactly how dangerous Kurogiri can be when pushed. There's a base in Djibouti that was destroyed and Kurogiri was seen there when it happened.
Right now, he's in his office. Not the one in the police station but the real one in the Public Security Intelligence Agency HQ.
He has no official rank but that doesn't change the fact that there are only four, maybe five, people higher up in the food chain than him. Honestly, he likes being a detective and working with heroes for his day job. It has the added benefit of giving the PSIA accurate information on the current state of heroics.
Besides, Toshinori knows who he works for and he's never told Naomasa to stop. They dance around the matter when they work together, careful never to put each other in compromising positions. The few times that occurs, they usually talk through it honestly.
He's reading through the casualty report—thirteen dead; eleven of them students, Vlad King who is a competent teacher, Tiger; and too many injured that they don't even bother listing their names—when someone bursts into his office. He recognises the woman, a rising rookie with a lot of competence but just a tad too much arrogance for anything other than fieldwork. A shame as she's one of the most methodical agents he's seen. If she could get rid of the arrogance, he sees her running the Agency in a few decades.
"Calm down," he tells her before she speaks. "It can wait—"
"Sir, the villains attacked a hero agency in Chiba prefecture," she says breathlessly.
Already? How bold.
"Then send heroes to—"
"You don't understand, they're already gone. They came in with thirty Nomu and left in under two minutes. They didn't even hesitate to slaughter everyone."
His eyes widen. That's… insane. Killing a few dozen people in a year is exceptional for villains these days. To think that they would actively slaughter the entirety of a hero agency leaves him horrified.
"How—"
The door opens, an intern stumbling in. "Sir, a police base in Okinawa prefecture was attacked."
"What the fuck? That's on the other side of the country."
The reports stream in.
Villain attack after villain attack after villain attack.
They never stay long. No, they appear and then move to the next location, leaving death and destruction in their wake. And before any defence can be organized, they're on the other side of the country attacking a different organization.
The reports are so varied and numerous that he's moved anyone of any importance to a shared space on the thirtieth floor. It is a secured meeting room with hard-line communications to every other PISA comms hub.
Every monitor displays information on Japan from military operations to hero rankings to their current foreign relations. The largest, however, displays a map of Japan with several crosses. Each cross represents a new attack location and the number never stops rising.
"Sir, the military base in Shikoku was attacked. An incendiary device right in the command base. We lost half the senior officer staff."
Naomasa barks out orders quickly and efficiently. He needs every ounce of cool he has given that the junior agents look like they're about to fall apart and those with experience are too busy dealing with a dozen different problems.
"Where's the boss?" he asks when neither of his superiors has shown up or made any attempts to communicate.
"Dead, sir. You're the highest-ranking agent still alive."
His eyes widen even as the room falls silent. That was not what he was expecting. The boss has been a constant in their lives for decades. She had been strong-willed and obstinate, but incredibly competent and always worthy of his respect. The idea that she's gone is just… Then he thinks of what she would say and knows he's doing her spirit a disservice.
Then he glares at everyone. "You can rest when you're dead. Get back to work."
"Get the Prime Minister on the line," he orders. "Direct line to his office. Tell him to declare a state of emergency and prepare a line of succession."
"The power station in Niigata was destroyed by—"
He ignores that one. Not very important all things considered. "Someone find Nezu and shove data at him. We need a plan and he's the best data analyst."
"—they just attacked the Fleet Admiral—"
He curses and slams his fist on the table. Barely anyone notices. "Make sure the fleets don't try to flee. Destroy their contingency facilities if that's what it takes."
"—airport was targeted—"
He rolls his eyes. An airport can wait. "Get information to the Minister of Defence's office. Recommend they start preparing for foreign invasion. Get them to activate whatever backdoor channels they need to confirm our international allies are still our allies."
"—thirty dead—"
The reports don't stop streaming in. Naomasa doesn't stop giving orders. They work for hours, tirelessly trying to create some semblance of organisation. After six hours it becomes apparent that there's hardly any central authority in the groups that need it most. After twenty, it becomes obvious that they're organising an entire country at war. He's become the central hub for organisation and information across Japan, a vital part of the network connecting generals and ministers and heroes to try and coordinate something.
In the span of a day, Naomasa had gone from unimportant to more critical than the Prime Minister. His orders dictate the movements of soldiers and police, his words directing national policy, and his commands diverting police from major drug operations.
Those around him tense and the base alarm screeches.
Naomoasa doesn't hesitate—neither do any of his agents who are all reaching for their guns or arming their quirks. He turns, withdrawing the gun beneath his coat.
He squeezes the trigger and fires.
His bullets hit a shimmering barrier. Then a dozen more bullets all hit the barrier, each as ineffective as the last.
There, standing as though he belongs in this room, is Kurogiri. Behind him are a group of four and they exude a sense of menace. Each of them looks like a trained killer bred in violent warzones across the world. One has her arm extended and she's the one generating the shimmering barrier making their attacks ineffective.
"Good, you've gathered the rest of the command staff," Kurogiri says. "Thank you for making this easy. Good night."
Naomasa realises his mistake too late. The only reason they hadn't been attacked was for this very moment. The moment where they consolidated their strength and hid behind their fortress walls. The perfect moment for an enemy to slip past all their defences and escape. Without him, any organisation Japan had will completely collapse.
He's the strongest link in the network, the most vital aspect keeping the country running right now. That makes him the critical failure point.
Damn it. Toshinori, it's on you now.
Naomasa sees the edge of the warp gate around his neck. He sees Kurogiri throw an incendiary device and watches his subordinates leap away futilely.
And then he sees nothing more.
-TDB-
Turn your head and listen carefully.
Can you hear it? Wait and focus. Still your breathing and calm your heart. The sound is everywhere. It's carried by the wind and running through your bones. No?
Do you not hear the sound of rain washing away arterial blood? Do you not hear the snap of fat burning and the sizzle of flesh cooking? Do you not hear grieving mothers curse their enemies? Do you not hear the final words of the dying?
Listen: Japan is at war. The world hears the cries of a nation besieged. Are you still deaf to it?
This is how it feels to be Shouta Aizawa, teacher of the dead. You want to scream and rage and turn back time to fix every single mistake in your life. But that rage is only a means to avoid the present. Your students have been attacked and too many are dead. Sekijirou, your fellow teacher, has died and you must handle this situation. They hold you responsible, as they should. The only reason you aren't in cuffs is that you have information on the villains who have just started a war.
Listen: the dead howl and demand bloody payment for blood spilt. The dead live in our memories. They live in the oaths children make as they pick up their fallen father's gun. Pay attention and you will know that each shot fired is that father screaming defiantly against death.
This is how it feels to be Kurogiri, right-hand to the Strongest Man Alive, and strategist of the League of Villains. You wage war alone, only ever staying in one location long enough to cause maximum havoc. There are dozens of Nomu under your command, those most dangerous and optimised for combat. They are your artillery platforms and your tanks. To command them, you have forty of the most lethal members of the League, all members who have had combat experience in the sweltering hot wilds of Malaysia and the concrete jungles of Georgia. They are lethal and brave and used to guerrilla warfare. But those are the people you allow to be seen. There are others, a group of twelve, who exist as assassins and sow terror by attacking the families of heroes and police officers and commissioned officers in the military. Soon, Japan will know the terror of a Warlord. Soon, they will learn to hear your name and tremble.
Listen: peace is only an extended ceasefire. Do you know what peace sounds like? It's the honeyed words of politicians trying to stop the next war starting. It's the staccato fire of soldiers running drills as they prepare for the next war. It's the hushed conversations of generals deciding which cities are strategic resources and which will be abandoned to enemy occupation.
This is how it feels to be Captain Yosuku Kadomatsu of the Japanese Navy 2nd Fleet. Your homeland is at war and you're stuck out at sea. Your first loyalty is to the navy, and you would abandon Japan to protect it, but you do not want to let your people perish. The war has barely started and two admirals are dead. You do not have time to mourn those great women you respected. No, now you must ensure your ship is ready to defend Japan from China. You observe their ships on radar and wonder if your commanding officer will give the call to attack now before they have reinforcements.
Listen: the living suffer and must fight. It is the burden of life, the great legacy the dead leave behind. To live is to struggle. To die is to admit defeat.
This is how it feels to be Eijirou Kirishima. Too many of your friends are dead. Those you knew and loved are dead. Those that remain are shell-shocked and horrified as reports of the death toll streams in. This shouldn't have happened. There was no reason for one attack to become a war. But, as you look at Shouto who has stayed silent, you fear that this war is because of Izuku. You fear that your friend started this somehow. You fear that your fears aren't unfounded. You fear that one day you'll have to make a choice and stand against the monsters in your midst. And you know you can't win that fight.
Listen: Claim your destiny with your bloody hands and fight off all contenders to your throne. The future cannot be avoided. It can only be taken by those who are strong and determined.
Listen: The time for Ascension has begun.