It was another sunny day in Sao Paulo.
Pro Hero Reflection, or Emanuel Saraiva in civilian, was walking down the street towards his favorite bar. Today was the International Hero day, when a lion share of the best hero schools all around the world held festivals, centered around promoting young generation of heroes. Only Japanese did it a day after, if Saraiva remembered correctly. Emanuel decided to spent this day not cooped up in his apartment, but with his colleagues, discussing the young generation.
Not like he himself was one of the Old Guard, but he was confident in his abilities to make an offer for one of the students. He was not one of the most popular heroes, with his quirk being heavily depended on other Pros, but he had a hell of a track record of successful missions.
Emanuel entered the bar, and was greeted by a sight of his friend and colleague, Clear Sky, or Emila Maia in civilian. They attended the same hero school, and stayed in touch after the graduation. Though she got more successful with her career, her quirk being far more combat oriented than his. And flashier.
"Hey, Emanuel! Or is it Reflection?" - Emila greeted him, and beckoned him to the table, with a clear view of the TV screen. If it was any other day, Emanuel would say that they got lucky, but not like many people would go to the bar at nine in the morning.
Emanuel was dressed in his flowing robes, imitating a wizard. His quirk allowed him to copy quirks by just seeing them in use, but sadly for a short time. It allowed him to cover a lot of bases in any team, though, and Sao Paulo hero scene respected Saraiva for his contribution. Emila, by comparison, was dressed casually, in a simple white blouse and blue jeans, her jacket resting on the back of her chair.
"I am off-duty today, just thought that bringing Reflection get-up would get my head in the game." - Emanuel answered, his voice a bit muffled by the mask.
"That's the spirit. Though you should probably ditch the mask. I already took liberty in getting us some drinks. Oh, here they are, actually!" - Emila said. A waitress walked towards them, with two pints of beer.
"One Kriek Boon, one St. Pierre Blanche and one Leffe Blonde. Here you go." - she said, and placed the refreshments in front of them, another one left for Augur, who was running late.
"Belgian? At least you remembered that I like red ale." - Emanuel said, and sipped. The ale was good.
"Yeah. Why not try something new?" - Emila said, and drank a bit out of her glass.
Drinking at ten in the morning wasn't really Emanuel style, but this time he felt it was acceptable.
Not like anything would happen this day anyways.
Earth rumbled a bit under him, but Saraiva didn't pay it any mind.
Izuku was pumped for the upcoming fight. Him and Kamakiri, duking it out one-on-one face-to-face. No stupid fucking gadgets, no annoying pink haired inventors. No weak vine users, that would give up at the first face of danger. Just two Brutes fighting it out.
Reiko's and Todoroki's fight left him moderately juiced up. He would need to stall for a bit, somehow. But when his quirk truly kicks in, it would be glorious. Best fucking fight of this festival. Probably better than the finals. Because it's decided – Bakugou is going to win against Reiko, or not even fight, if she didn't wake up from her injuries in time. He is going to be so pissed if that's the case. And a fight between him and whoever wins this bout is going to be boring as fuck. Just mindless harassment from Katsuki, until he either tires, or his opponent gets pissed enough to leave him with a couple of burns or stab wounds.
Thank fucking God for Cementoss, or his juice would've entirely ran out if he was forced to wait for the arena to be cleaned any other way. Izuku already lost the jersey and flip-flops, leaving the exit to the arena only in his shorts. His body was considerably covered in scales, and more were itching under his skin. His palms ended in claws, his mouth already became a flower-like snout. He was ready to fight.
Kamakiri walked out of the opposite entrance, bare-feet and -chested too. His body was already spouting blades and hooks in some places, and chains protruded from his shins, clinking with every step.
"Togaru Kamakiri vs Izuku Midoriya! And the contestants are already ready, great! Start!" - Present Mic suddenly announced the match.
Izuku immediately opened with his favorite one – a fireball to the face. Kamakiri got lucky with starting his transform on the way here, if he didn't do it, he would've probably eaten the flames with his face. The fireball harmlessly splashed on his metallic body, only heating it slightly. Kamakiri contorted his body, and jumped towards Izuku, aiming to end this fight quickly. Izuku rushed him head on, uncaring of the injuries, the only though in his head screaming to get further from the edge.
Togaru's massive body slammed into Lung, flinging him back, his body centimeters away from the boundary, probably breaking his ribcage in every way that mattered. His reinforced organs thankfully absorbed the blow, but the pain still blindsided him. Fuck, that hurt. Izuku let out a roar, and started throwing flame at Kamakiri, trying to blind him. Lung needed to buy time in order for his quirk to patch his ribs up.
The pain in his chest was getting better by the second, Izuku was slowly moving to the center of the arena once again, trying to avoid Togaru ending the fight in the same move. He probably wouldn't do it, scared of flinging himself over the boundary too, or maybe not in mood to crack more of Lung's bones. Chains started flying from his body, trying to entangle Izuku. He and his flames were strong enough to rip through them, even if with considerable difficulty.
Izuku continued with his fire barrage, content with not letting Togaru to see anything rather that his orange flames. Kamakiri started throwing his chains in every direction, going for a feeler network of those to orient himself in the space. Izuku's blood was pumping – he started blowing more and more fire, not needing to think of burning Kamakiri, like the weaklings before. The arena was filled with it, one rolling wave of flame after another, splashing against Togaru. He felt Izuku with his appendages, and barreled straight towards him. Izuku, almost fully healed, and almost two and a half meters tall, decided to meet him head on.
Kamakiri slammed into Lung, who exerted a lot of effort to stay upright. Fire started blooming around them, heating Togaru up. Izuku started biting with his maw, trying to rip off chunks of his metal-flesh from the whole, to weaken Kamakiri. The blades and hooks bit into his mouth, leaving deep gashes and cuts, one hook almost ripping one 'petal' of his snout from it's place.
Izuku roared, and let out a fire breath, trying to soften the metal of Togaru's body. Kamakiri responded by repeatedly slamming chunks of himself into Lung, breaking bones with every blow. Blades bit into his scales, glancing off some, but piercing through others, opening long tears in Lung's skin. Those cuts quickly healed up, but blades gouged more, and the cycle continued.
Metal was thrown in every direction, sprays of blood flowed between them, boiling in the heat produced from the flames around them. It was glorious. Izuku felt alive the first time in this entire fucking day. No, week. Maybe even more. He ripped more of Kamakiri's body, and he ripped more of his, the fight descending into a fight of endurance – whose quirk is going to fail first.
An unbridled thought came into Lung's mind – it was probably the bloodiest fight in the history of UA sports festival. The only saving grace that prevented referee from stopping this much was the blinding flames and heat produced by Izuku, covering this carnage from the outside view. And even if they did try to stop this, Izuku wouldn't listen. This was a long time coming for him to stop half-way. He is going to beat Kamakiri, and he is going to enjoy this.
Hooks bit into his left arm, which was still a bit weaker than his right. Fuck you, Kamakiri. With a sickening crunch, Togaru ripped a considerable chunk of muscles from his arms, which dropped to his side. Izuku turned his head towards it, inspecting the damage. It gushed with blood, but it got better with every second. And it wasn't the fucking shoulder this time, at least. Izuku decided to not disengage, and redoubled his efforts in ripping Togaru apart.
Thank God his flames didn't require any fuel source. Izuku could breath CO2 if needed, and Kamakiri didn't have a single human organ, ergo, no need to breath at all. But his fire would've ran out of oxygen in the vicinity, sooner or later.
Izuku was almost three meters tall, when Kamakiri disengage from him. His chains entangled Izuku during the fight, keeping him in place long enough for Togaru to prepare his ramming move, slamming into Izuku once again, this time with all of his force. Lung, even as heavy as he was now, was flung from his position back, his only saving grace was sticking his claws, both on arms and legs, into the concrete to brake. Most of his fingers and toes were broken, but he managed to stop himself in time. His midsection once again bloomed with pain, clouding Lung's mind.
He roared, and let out a wave of flames after a wave of flames, Kamakiri's body now flaming hot. He tried to stand up, but his feet were too mangled from the charge. Izuku looked at Togaru, who was as worse for the wear as him – a lot of his mass was now lounging around the arena, out of reach. He was gathering the metal that was in his vicinity, trying to bulk up once again.
With a crunch after crunch, Lung's fingers healed themselves back. He stood up, and flames were left in his wake. He started walking towards Kamakiri, still unsure of placing excessive strain on his feet. The majority of the flames, without his support, died out.
"Finally, Eraserhead! Well, both of them are still standing. But they don't look good, if you catch my drift." - Present Mic commented.
Izuku was in a better state than Kamakiri, though. He didn't waste energy, or needed outside material to regenerate. He was unstoppable, capable of fighting for hours. Maybe even days.
Or maybe forever.
With every step, he grew more confident of himself. Of his body, now almost back to full health. Fire once again rolled from him in waves, searing heat burning everything in its wake. Kamakiri's body was still red hot, weak to his blows. Instead of tanking the blow, Togaru too decided to slam into Lung, once again trying to end the fight.
His body was, for the moment of his ramming, in a very compact state. Not the amorphous mass of metal that it is most of the time, but a coiled spring, rushing towards his destination. He was fast, but Lung's reaction, his explosive strength, and the distance between them allowed him to dodge the blow, grab Kamakiri, and use his momentum to fling him to the side of the arena, throwing him over the boundary.
Togaru slammed into the ground, and spread himself over the surface, his defeat evident. It was pointless for him to continue the fight – he lost his chance a while ago. But better to go out in style.
Kamakiri didn't transform back, his uniform, as is Izuku's, torn to shreds. But he moved over to Lung, and offered him an improvised arm, made out of chains, blades and hooks. Izuku took it, shaking it with vigor. He wanted to say that this was a great fight, but only snarls came out of his throat. Kamakiri clinked his chains in response, too unable to form a single word.
Izuku snorted, and retreated from the arena.
One more fight left.
Emanuel and Emila were on their third pint, when Augur finally graced them with his presence. He looked disheveled, his clothes a bit scuffed, like he was in a hurry. Augur, or Pedro Marques, was dressed in a dress shirt and jeans, with thin-rimmed glasses.
"Oh! Look who showed up! Augur, where were you? The ceremony is the only thing left!" - Emila exclaimed, excited to finally see Pedro.
"Yeah, Pedro. What happened? I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. Or answer my text. I was so ready to call the police, you know?" - Emanuel chided Marques.
"I… fuck." Pedro cursed, which he never did before. "I don't know. Something happened to my quirk."
What? That was… alarming, to say the least. His quirk, tautologically named Augury, allowed him to live through a modeled reality once per day. It didn't cover the entire world, sadly, so no predicting natural disasters, or devastating villains attacks, but it was enough to cover Sao Paulo, and immensely help the Pros hero. Something happening to his quirk could be devastating for heroes of this city.
"What? What happened? Why didn't you call us?" - Emanuel questioned, his face bewildered.
"I forgot. To call. And… it doesn't work. It's there, I can feel it. But it just doesn't activate. Like something is blocking it." - Pedro said, dropping into the open chair. "Get me some beer. I need to clear my head." Emila immediately motioned for the waitress. "Petrus Red, please.", Marques said, and waitress retreated back to the bar table.
"That's… fuck. Okay, let's wait a day, and if it doesn't come back, we need to tell other Pros. Find someone who can work quirks, or something. If only I could copy quirks forever, than we could check if the problem is with you…" - Emanuel said, deciding on a plan of action.
"Yeah. Wanna get out of this bar, get somewhere else? The festivities would be in full swing soon." - Emila offered, concerned about Augur.
Augur nodded, and when waitress came back with his pint, he drank it to the last drop in seconds.
Ground shook under Reflection, but he didn't notice it, writing it off as beer making him woozy.
Katsuki was, simply put, pissed.
"Sorry Firecracker, but it seems you'll get one less fight this year. Or are you in mood of beating up a person who can barely sit upright?" - Reiko said, a tired smile on her lips.
Fucking hell. Bakugou was really looking forward to this match, but of course those retards need to basically fight it to the death. Todoroki was a bit better than Reiko, but he lost. Reiko, to put it kindly, was exhausted. Healing Hag restored her body, but she woke up only now. Bakugou would say till his last breath that he just came into the infirmary, and wasn't sitting by her bedside the entire time. Which is true. Because he was sitting outside, fucking Healing Hag not allowed visitors. Bitch.
"Fuck you, Reiko. Couldn't you not say the shit that led him to blowing you up? You had him there, you know? A couple more rocks, and you would've beaten Half and Half." - Bakugou ranted.
"Yeah. Half and Half." - Reiko said, and closed her eyes. Probably falling asleep.
The fuck did she meant by that?
"Okay, time's up, young man. And your match is soon, shoo-shoo." - Healing Hag said, trying to force him out of the chair. She predictably failed.
"Okay folks, it seems that Reiko Yanagi is out of the tournament. She is too tired from the healing provided by Recovery Girl. So, it's time for the… Final! Katsuki Bakugou, versus Izuku Midoriya! Two absolute powerhouses! Who would win? Let's find out!" - Present Mic announced Reiko's disqualification and his bout. Katsuki got up, picked up his long sleeved jacket, and proceeded to the arena.
Lung was already waiting for him, clearly impatient for the fight. His quirk was barely powered, or even turned off entirely. Bakugou strolled up to him, and offered him a hand. Lung took it.
"No quirk?" - Katsuki questioned.
Lung nodded. "Wanted this to be a fair fight. No fucking cop outs, like powering up before the bout." Yeah, if Lung didn't use his quirk before his match with Kamakiri, he would've lost. But Bakugou didn't want to win this way. It would feel unearned. What's interesting about beating up an almost quirkless person? And doing this to his friend would be twice as scummy.
"I'll give you a head start. A minute. Make this more even. Don't want to win this in seconds." - Katsuki said, and grinned. Lung snorted, and took his arm back. Bakugou walked back to his position.
"Well, this is it people. Ready! Steady! Go!" - Present Mic shouted, but Bakugou just stood in place.
"I thought you were joking, Katsuki!" - Lung shouted. "And what's the fucking point of you just standing here? You fucking now that I need a fight to ramp up!"
Okay, that's fair. Katsuki blasted in Lung's direction, covering the entire distance between them in a matter of seconds, stopping a couple of meters before him. Lung's fighting style was always unrefined, relying more on brute and Brute strength, rather than skill. It allowed him to make mistakes in his strikes, or moves, and still consistently mow down his foes. Not with Bakugou, though, and definitely not unpowered. Lung went for a wide right hook. Bakugou blocked it, and grabbed his forearm, inserted his right arm under his armpit, turned and threw Lung over his shoulder with a satisfying impact.
"Fuck!" - Lung cursed, but was too disoriented to disengage, which allowed Katsuki to get into a mount. Bakugou scored some quick hits at Lung's temple, but soon disengaged himself, wanting to give Izuku more of a chance.
"You should learn how to fucking fall, Lung." - Katsuki taunted. Lung snarled, and blasted a couple of small fireballs at him. Katsuki deflected them with his explosions, dispersing the fire with the blast waves. "Okay, I though we were doing this man-to-man, you bitchboy. No fucking quirks."
"You yourself said about giving me a head start, retard.", Lung countered. Fuck, Katsuki did say that. Well, using blasts to move probably doesn't count, does it?
Katsuki went in for a fake punch, and Lung tried to counter with a cross. Katsuki slipped past his arm, and went for a grapple. Bakugou crossed his arm over Lung's back, getting a head-arm control, took a step forward, unbalancing his opponent, hooked his leg behind Izuku's, lifted him, and performed a takedown. Katsuki maintained the control down to the ground, going for a choke.
"Fuck, just wait a minute or so, and you are fucked." - Lung croaked through the choke. Katsuki decided to let go, and disentangled himself with a quick blast. Lung stayed on the ground, wheezing for a little way. Katsuki caught a quick breath himself.
A minute he gave Lung for headstart passed.
Then, Lung sent twin jets of flame from his soles, and jumped to his feet. Katsuki slipped by them, and engaged Lung in close quarter combat once again, the audience muted reaction and Lung's continuous failure to do anything without his quirk driving him to a logical conclusion of ending this stupid fight.
Izuku blasted flames at his face, Katsuki threw himself down, using recoil from his explosions, and planted his hands on Lung's abdomen, blasting him over the edge.
It was so fucking anticlimactic, that nobody reacted to the literal end of UA Sports Festival.
Bakugou tried to gauge everyone's reaction to the fight – was this shit was so boring that everyone stopped watching, or something?
And yeah, nobody was fucking watching.
Just staring at the phones, in mute horror.
Wait, what?
It was around three or four in the morning, and Emanuel and Emila were dragging a hammered Pedro back home.
"W-why is it not working. Why? Come back, please." - Marques rambled, distressed over his quirk.
Maia and Saraiva, in comparison, were almost sober.
"Fuck, maybe you should fly him home, or something?" - Emanuel offered. Maia thought it over, but decided against it. "I don't have my license on my. Don't want to explain to cops why the fuck am I flying a shitfaced guy, while drunk myself. Won't end well."
Ground shook under them, as it did the last several hours. But this time it felt even stronger. Saraiva was a bit concerned – earthquakes like this didn't happen in Sao Paulo before. This was the first one on his memory.
"Emila. What's with the earthquakes? I don't get it, this is not a seismically active zone." - Emanuel asked, not really expecting anything.
"How the fuck would I now? I am not an earthquake scientist, or something." - Emila responded.
Suddenly, Augur's entire body started shaking. And then he let out a blood chilling scream, and raved something about the end. About death. Saraiva stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do. What to do, as his friend dropped dead, blood flowing out of his eyes, nose, mouth, ears.
And then he heard it. It was the same quake, that was happening throughout the day, but this time it was the loudest. And it was close. Closing every second. Then – sound of cracks appearing in the ground. Emila, too frozen by the scene in front of them, shook off the stupor, and engaged her quirk, glowing a bright white light. Emanuel's, no, Reflection's, instincts kicked in, and he used his quirk on Clear Sky, copying her quirk. A rainbow-colored beam appeared between them, granting Reflection Clear Sky's ability. He flew up, and away from the sound, deciding that disengaging is their best bet.
Then he heard another sound in the cacophony of crackles – a quick cry. Then, cracking stopped. And then Reflection stopped hearing anything – his eardrums burst from a literally deafening roar.
He decided to turn. To witness. And then he saw it. A monstrosity. A giant… something, more than fifteen meters tall. Larger than buildings around it, whose windows too popped from the cry. It was a humanoid, a statue made out of magma, with thick, obsidian-colored body, riddled with countless jagged protrusions. It's face was adorned with a giant, glowing red eye, almost carved out between two obsidian-like horns.
It was terror made flesh.
It was fear in bodily form.
It was dread brought to life.
And the Monster first killed Augur, the It too much for his quirk to comprehend. The quirk was trying to save him from his fate – to prevent the brain damage he suffered from trying to recreate This using his quirk. And It killed Clear Sky, God knows how. And it was going to kill him.
Reflection engaged Clear Sky's, no, Emila's quirk, firing a searing white beam of energy at the It. But It wasn't even shook. A blast that could level buildings, and It just stood there, menacingly.
And then, Pro Hero Reflection, Emanuel Saraiva knew nothing.
One of the first to fall in the face of Behemoth, the Herokiller.