A small kindergarten stands in the city's heart amidst the towering structures made of marble and glass. The starting point for hundreds of young children who will be nurtured and educated to be part of the beautiful society that is the hero society.

In this utopian society, life is better than it had ever been, and problems were nothing more than forgotten concepts formed from terror-soaked imaginations, all left in the grim past.

Children have the privilege of experiencing a carefree childhood while also receiving the necessary education to ensure they will become ideal civilians.

Yet, behind the glimmering facade of the city of glass lies a sinister truth that many residents choose to overlook or abuse.

The weak are forbidden in this city.

The playground usually filled with children was left nearly vacant, the empty swing dangling uselessly in the slow breeze. Only four figures remained the proof that the park was not abandoned - a tiny boy scrambling on the ground, drained by the scorched marks perforating into his body like cursed tattoos and his tormentors who surround him from all sides like bloodthirsty wolves, cruel smiles stretched weirdly on their young faces.

The boy's begs for mercy fell on deaf ears as the children in front of him didn't see him as human enough to be worthy of their "generous" compassion.

It was the unspoken law of the hero society that strength was supreme, and it was only natural that the strong would always rule the weak, for they were destined to become heroes.

Those whose power was lacking, however, should be grateful they were protected by the great and shining pillars that held society together.

This is why he was punished. Punish for something he had no control over - the irreparable defect he was born with, and even as tears spilled out of his eyes, the three boys didn't display an ounce of empathy for his pain.

Each blow sent a sickening tremor through his frail body, skin cracking under the force of the relentless punches of his persecutors.

Plastering on their face were mocking sneers, and in their eyes, a sadistic glee blooming in their eyes that would have been attributed to a villain in normal circumstances. Still, they had powers while he didn't, so it was fair in the eyes of society. For all who can't meet the high-status society imposed onto its people were not really people, now where they?

It was the reality a 5-year-old shouldn't ever face, the truth that humans are not equal, and those born with power have the right to maneuver the rest of the bunch, and Izuku was part of that bunch. A truth so sickening that it made his heart ache, shattering the illusion of equality he was made to believe in.

He could try to run, but explosions are always faster.

He could try to fight, but the heat behind the explosions would hurt much worse.

He could try to live, but the explosion would burn him over and over.

"That's what you get for getting in my way DEKU."

The leader of the three sneered as his palm seared through the skin, leaving dark bruises on Izuku's shoulder.

"It w-wasn't f-fair Ka-kacchan," the boy tried to explain himself, but his word entangled themself into an ugly mess, his quivering lip only accentuating his stutter.

This infuriates the trio leader even more, forcing an animalistic growl to reverberate in Bakugo's throat as he lunges at Izuku, his fingers wrapping around the boy's neck. With no effort, the frail boy is lifted in the air as the airflow to his windpipe is slowly blocked off.

Of course, someone with an elite quirk like Kacchan would be infuriated when a weakling like Izuku would stand up for himself, even more when the powerless boy tried to stop him from harassing other children for simply existing.

He was powerless to do anything as he struggled in vain in the tight grip, Kacchan's blazing azure eyes glaring daggers into Izuku's crimson orbs. Any other five-year-old in kindergarten had tried the same maneuvers he could have escaped their hold without much difficulty.

But Kacchan was something else.

Just as his vision was fuzzing over, a right hook smashed into his face, cracking his nose and tossing him into the air. When he collided whit the ground, the burning, an unfamiliar flow of adrenaline rushing through his vein alleviated a bit of the pain that clung to his body like a plague.

However, what was not soothed, was the harsh ringing that enveloped the inner canal of his ears, forcing his eyes to clench in pain, leaving him utterly oblivious to any attack he couldn't see. Yet none came anymore, and the boy soon realized he was alone, which could only mean his tormentor got bored of him.

Thank heavens

With great effort, he picked himself up, ignoring the blaring pain that shot up his spine as he straightened his back. Taking a tentative step, he hissed in displeasure as he felt the muscle of his legs cramps up. Nonetheless, he moved forward, even when his breathing became labored, and the adrenaline that helped him deal with the pain was quickly running dry.

'He deserves the pain, for he was a quirkless freak, and he should be thankful that Kacchan didn't damage him any further' A dark part of his brain spilled through his thoughts.

Shaking his head slightly, he cleared his mind and redirected his body and thoughts to the only place he could call safe.

His home

Walking was challenging, but so were the thought and questions that curled around his mind.

Wondering where it all went wrong.

Questioning how things were different three months prior, as almost everyone was technically quirkless, and preschool was much more manageable. People didn't hate him, and he actually had some friends he could talk to besides Kacchan.

He was...happy. But of course, things couldn't remain like that.

And it was absolutely his fault.

For how naive could he be to tell Kacchan that he was quirkless without thinking of the dire consequence that would follow.

After that, life became worse than anything he could have imagined.

Quirklesness was worse than a death sentence, and Izuku has yet to fully understand this life lesson.

So this is why his burning desire to prove them wrong grew stronger, to prove that Quirkless doesn't mean useless.

Izuku knew he wasn't thinking logically, as the only way you can survive in the real world is by bowing to the strongest. Still, he promises to never kneel before this "hero" society. He will become something more than just a quirkless nobody. People like Kacchan( that are strong, loud, and perfect hero material) will have to see that he isn't pathetic.

They will witness how Izuku becomes a beacon of justice that shines brightly even in the shadow of All Might.

"I am going to become a hero no matter the cost" His words echoed throughout the empty street, a statement against society only for him to hear.

However, Izuku would soon realize that this world is far crueler than he imagined.

Society, unbeknownst to him, has already written his future into stone, forcing him on a road that will lead him to a pathetic end, forgotten by the people he looked up to.

Yet even then, Izuku will still try with all his might to change the road paved by the brutal status quote of the hero society, but sooner rather than later, he will learn that his "all" is not enough, and he will perish like all who tried to change anything in this godforsaken world.

He will lose everything, but Izuku won't die.

They will not permit such a crime.

Blood will be spilled to fill oceans, and death will follow him like a second skin, and only when he sits on the throne above eternity, his crimson crown held high above mountains of corpses, would they be satisfied.

Because they are the voice in his mind, the deafening death that had shattered the abyss, and with their help

The Blood God will never die

Notes:

The rewrite of this chapter is finished.

Please don't forget to comment if you like the rewrite.