Prologue
It was a crappy and run-down old house tucked away amidst bare rocks, scraggly trees and broken down construction equipment, barrels of waste and piles of unused logs. The sort of condemned two-story building the rest of the world could easily pass by. If anyone had been wandering this uncomfortably hot day in late September, they would have been astonished to see a man entering the place, a man in a long black overcoat, boots and full-length pants, spiky hair to match and only a loose, v-neck white t-shirt conceding any of the heat. Had they looked closer, they might have noticed the burns running down the man's arms, across his throat and mouth, the skin held together through the grotesque stitching of Frankenstein's monster, and quickly turned and run away. Had they been brave enough to see the man face to face, they might have noticed beneath the horrific burn scars the remnants of what would have been a softly handsome face, with striking, heavy-lidded blue eyes, and felt perhaps a hint of pity, until the cold terrible glint in the eyes met theirs, and they once again hurried away.
The man slid back the decrepit door on a scene of similar waste; live wires running about the walls, cracked windows and plaster, mismatched furniture with stuffing peering out of cushions. The fluorescents were peeling away or hanging from wires on the ceiling, a battered bookshelf emptied with broken glass shelves. Five others sat or stood about the scene of desolation: one woman, a teenager with blonde hair still wearing her school uniform, a tall slender man in a magician's hat, a larger more athletic man in a tight bodysuit and mask; a lizard-type heteromorph dressed in mask and goggles, and a lean, gaunt man with white hair, a wrinkled face, and top to bottom black clothes.
The man in the black cloak, who the rest of the world knew only by the villain name 'Dabi', rolled his eyes.
"You're all just kicking back?" He growled in a voice that spoke to the burning the vocal cords had taken one day long ago. "I guess I'm the only one pounding the pavement looking for recruits."
"Yeah?" Said the man in the bodysuit, known as Twice. "Too bad you roast everyone you bump into. And you haven't brought in any fresh blood!"
"They were all worthless. Just trash, living day to day without any real ambitions."
The girl, known by her real name Himiko Toga, smiled as she sampled a necklace from a recent robbery. "Maybe you're just bad at judging others!"
"You, of all people, don't get to say that."
The white haired man, who went by the assumed name Tomura Shigaraki, hissed out as he took a bite of a biscuit "It has been about a month since they caught Kurogiri, right?" After a moment's pause, his eyes traveled off to the distant view through one of the dim windows. "He said he was getting us some new power…Oh well. He failed, so that's that. No luck finding the Doctor either."
Unnoticed by the others in the room, the man who called himself Dabi turned slightly at the sound of the name 'the Doctor'.
"Kurogiri was your babysitter," Toga noted as Twice helped her fasten the necklace, "so you must miss him a lot, Tomura. What's so important about that Doctor anyway?"
"He was master's personal doctor. A real cautious guy. The only way to get in touch with him was through the computer at the hideout. Since he's the one who developed and managed the Nomu."
Dabi shoved his hands further into his pockets and set his jaw, turning away again from the rest.
The magician, known by villain name Mr Compress, nodded. "No matter how cautious the doctor is, you'd think he could drop us a line, and maybe give us a hand. Especially when you consider that his former employer's golden boy is reduced to squatting."
"He didn't deny missing Kurogiri," piped up Toga. "Aw, Tomura really does miss him!"
As they'd spoken, the heteromorphic villain known as Spinner had seemed to narrow his eyes more and more. There was a sense of something about to burst, and at last it did.
"Hey," he said to Shigaraki. "Where're we going with all this? I'm only here cuz Stain inspired me to take action! I was born in a real backwater place, stuck in the last century. Around there I was known as the Lizard freak. And I just accepted it! That whole time my heart was totally empty. That is, until I learned about Stain's final stand on the evening news! He was trying to change the world on his own! That day was the day I realized how suffocating society really is. I just couldn't take it anymore! This is the reason I joined up with you people!"
As he spoke, he began to storm forwards towards the sofa where Shigaraki lay slumped. Dabi, cocking his head to one side, asked, "So what you're saying is basically you're just an empty cosplayer.
"That's right! Totally hollow!" And he reached down to Shigaraki's cloak, seized it and pulled him off of the sofa. "Which's why I don't get why we're sitting around doing nothing! I was ready to have some new life breathed into me! To be inspired! So answer me, Shigaraki! Where're we going?"
There was silence. Twice scratched his nose. Mr. Compress was silent. Toga yawned. Dabi rolled his eyes.
"Like I said, he -" Shigaraki began - but he never got the chance to answer.
A rumbling sound interrupted him. Something was approaching.
Quick as a flash, Shigaraki seized a severed hand pile from a nearby table and assembled the hideous tableau of gripping severed limbs that the world knew him best for. The others followed as he dashed out the open door towards the rumbling ground.
"I WAS WAITING FOR THE SIGNAL," came a booming, terrible voice from far, far above. The six young villains turned their faces upward to behold a man - perhaps what had once been a man, rather a thing the size of a small mountain; a naked pile of chiseled flesh in the shape of a muscular, large athlete.
"ARE YOU THE ONE WHO SUCCEEDED ALL FOR ONE?"
Shigaraki tipped up the severed hand that covered his face and smiled. "Is this the power you alluded to, Kurogiri?"
Dabi tilted his head to one side, his jet black hair blowing over his eye in the breeze.
"Soooo, who's this?"
"You mean to say Kurogiri set out in search of this fellow?" Asked Compress.
"He must be the secret weapon Master left behind for me," hissed Shigaraki.
As he spoke, the giant discarded the radio which had hung from his neck. "I…DEVOTE MYSELF TO ALL FOR ONE. NOW, SUCCESSOR. PROVE THAT YOU ARE WORTHY."
The other members exchanged glances of some surprise.
Six weeks Later.
It had been a fight to change the course of history.
The public had watched on in terrified awe as Endeavor, aka Enji Todoroki, the recently minted #1 hero, had fought a battle to the near death against a seemingly unstoppable, super-powered Nomu monster. It had been a close and brutal fight, one in which the safety of the city was in grave danger. But in the end the hero had emerged triumphant, pumping one fist into the air in a manner that reminded many of All Might's triumphant last stand not long ago at Kamino Ward.
Now, the badly burned and beaten hero was slumping, and his co-worker ran forward to catch him. The hero who moved too fast for his own good, Wing Hero Hawks, was holding up the #1 quite gently.
"That's All Might's pose, you know."
"No. Different arm. He uses his left!"
"Who cares about that? I'm just grateful you won!"
"Zero points, though. A real sorry start for me."
"If I may disagree," smiled Hawks, rather gently for someone best known as a smirking, apathetic pro. "This victory of yours today was absolutely huge!"
As the two men spoke, and Endeavor took a seat to rest, neither noticed the dark figure nearby slowly approaching them.
"First, let's do something about your bleeding wounds."
"I can't move. Call someone for help."
"Just a minute now," came the soft growl. "None of this is how I planned it, but that's fine."
The two pros looked up and started.
Spiky black hair and long black cloak signaled the familiar frame of a well-known villain. "Well, Endeavor," smiled Dabi, blue eyes glinting with a gleam of amusement, "Should I say nice to meet you?"
