A/N: There won't be too many of these as I'm not a huge fan. But I did want to thank everyone who has commented, followed, and/or favorited this story. I read all of the reviews and see almost all of the follows/favorites. Each one is a pleasant surprise since I didn't expect much in such a niche crossover category. Seriously, thank you all. I hope you enjoy my little drabbles.
He Who Protects
Chapter 3
"I've often wondered, Chronicler," The Emperor whispered, his voice carrying across the large chamber, "was it strength or cowardice when I made the decision to jump? To end my life? Countless years have passed, yet I've found no answer."
Tanaka wiped the tears from her eyes with a kerchief and stared at her Lord's back. Strength radiated as a golden aura from him, though it was subdued to ensure she could withstand his presence.
His back, unencumbered by the heavy, polished ceramite plate and rich forest-green cloak, bowed beneath an unseen weight.
"I know not, my Lord." Her eyes burned, having stared at his visage for too long. "I've not pondered such things before. Suicide is… Well, it's unheard of in today's society."
"Because I willed it and we made it so." The Emperor turned, walking to a portrait hanging near the entrance of his chambers. An oil painting filled with faces she didn't recognize, all of them smiling. "I do not care to recall those times. I was weak. I was no hero. I was nothing then. Katsuki Bakugo had been correct about me. I believe my turn to suicide was a weakness, but some days? I am not so sure."
She willed the conversation to change. To speak of such things about her liege Lord was too near to heresy for her comfort.
"Bakugo, my Lord?"
The Emperor pointed at one of the men in his painting. "A friend… of sorts. He'd called me 'Deku' when we were young, and, for a time, he was right."
"Heresy," she spat.
The Emperor chuckled. "We resolved our differences in time. He, aside from one other, was the one person I could truly rely on during those times."
Tanaka walked to stand beside the Emperor and turned her gaze upon the portrait. A crazed smile stretched Bakugo's pale face, his blond hair spiking up as if in mid-explosion. "He looks like a cornered and wounded beast. Dangerous."
"He was very dangerous." The Emperor reached out, his gauntleted fingers ghosting over Bakugo. "To his enemies. To me, he was much, much more."
"And that was, my Lord?" Her query saw The Emperor's lip twitching up into a bitter smile.
"Can you imagine being the Emperor of Humanity for a day?"
His question surprised her. Tanaka shook her head.
"Day in and day out, countless people tell me exactly what I want to hear out of fear..of misguided loyalty…or simply to play their political games. It is so very…tiring." His hand shifted to a woman with white hair before it fell to his side. "Kacchan always told me exactly what I needed to hear."
"Who are the others, my Lord?" Takana's gaze flitted across the larger than life portrait. So many smiling faces. Only one face, nearly covered by the others, one wreathed in green, frowned.
The Emperor turned from the painting. "In due time, Chronicler Tanaka. Now, where were we before I distracted us with my rememberings?"
"You slipped from atop the building, my Lord. You fell."
Her liege snapped his armoured fingers before coming to a rest atop the sword strapped to his hip. It was as long as she was tall. Shivers trailed down her spine at the sight of it.
"I did slip, yes," he replied. "There was no fall."
"My Lord?"
"I grabbed hold of the ledge as I fell." The Emperor thumbed the pommel of his sword. "I suppose a part of me still longed for life. All Might hadn't entirely left the roof. He heard me slip and pulled me back up. He saved me twice that day. In doing so, he condemned me to a year of torment."
Heat haze radiated from the sword at its master's touch. Sweat beaded on her brow. Whispers broke out in the back of her mind. Tanaka turned her gaze from the sword.
"What happened during that year?" she whispered.
He took his hand from the sword and the whispers stopped. "Nothing of note, I'm afraid. I wandered the Earth, listless. I was little more than a servitor going about my daily duties. I had no comrades, no hope. Not yet, at least."
"It sounds awful," Tanaka muttered.
"In a way, it was." The Emperor raised his hand, his golden luminescence cloaking it. "In other ways, what happened next was exactly what I, and this world, needed."
Her hand crept toward the light as if she were a moth drawn to an inferno. The tips of her fingers burned, yet tingles washed about her body. The Emperor snuffed the light and she dropped her hand, clearing her throat."
"What happened, my Lord?"
"The world ended, Chronicler Tanaka," he whispered, "and the Second Dark Age of Quirks began."
◹†◸◹†◸◹†◸◹†◸
Izuku slammed his pencil on his desk with a huff. 'What use is trigonometry if I'm not going to apply for the U.A. hero course? I don't need this crap to be a cop!'
With a sigh, he swivelled in his chair. His eyes roamed the empty walls. They'd once been filled with posters of heroes and their merchandise.
That'd been a year ago. All Might's words had disabused Izuku of ever becoming a hero. He'd destroyed everything he owned that revolved around heroes the next day.
"I don't want to be a cop," he grumbled. "Or a firefighter. Or an advisor. But what else do I want to do? What can I do?"
He'd honestly never thought of it. The very idea of being anything other than a hero had been unbelievable. Now though?
Many jobs revolved around having a quirk that was suited to it.
Izuku's shoulders slumped. "Maybe I can be a clerk at a convenience store."
His eyes shifted to his bookcase. The one thing in his room he hadn't been able to bring himself to destroy. Thirteen notebooks sat upon it, covered in a thick layer of dust.
"Che, I should just throw those out." Izuku stood on creaking knees and stretched. "They aren't worth anything to a store clerk."
Izuku's hand hovered over the last volume, thirteen, for several moments before falling back to his side. He turned with a sigh. "I'll throw them out tomorrow. Don't have the energy right now."
Trudging through his door, Izuku leaned against the wall. Tears built up in his eyes. 'Please not again. I've cried enough over this already.'
"I-Izuku!" His mother's tremulous call shot through him like an arrow. "Sweetie, I think you should come see this."
His mother hadn't spoken that way in years. 'Something's terribly wrong.'
Heart pounding, Izuku vaulted down the stairs. He ran into the living room shaking like a leaf and his eyes fell upon his mother. She was staring at something as if she were in a trance.
"Mom!" He grabbed his mother by her shoulders. Her head whipped toward him. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
His mother raised one trembling hand and pointed behind him.
"The television?" Izuku quirked a brow. 'Did her favourite soap character finally die?'
He turned his head and braced himself against the wall.
'There's so much fire. It's like the apocalypse. What's happening?'
The footage shifted to a corner of the screen to be replaced by a late night news anchor. Sweat streamed down his face. The anchor raised a violently shaking hand to adjust his glasses.
"What you are seeing is live footage of a battle between the number one hero, All Might, and an unknown villain in Kamino Ward." The anchor paused to take a few unsteady breaths. "The villain seems to be fighting All Might evenly and has caused widespread destruction. Death tolls are currently estimated in excess of five-hundred with all other pro heroes on the scene either dead or incapacitated. Live on the scene, Takahashi will provide you with updates."
The live feed shifted once more to fill the entire screen and the camera zoomed in on two figures. The villain looked more like a very unfortunate burn victim than someone who could stand against All Might. The little skin that could be seen was burnt to the point that it even covered his eyes. Some sort of life support mask covered the lower half of his face. And…
'His suit isn't damaged at all.'
Izuku's eyes widened at the sight of a ragged red, white and blue jumpsuit. 'All Might! He's hit his limit. Now everyone knows. He's taken so much damage. Please, All Might, go beyond. Beat him. One final victory'
The camera zoomed back out, showcasing a hellscape the likes of which hadn't been seen in nearly a century. Pained screams buzzed, faint against crackling flames and distant explosions. Corpses, covered in ragged hero costumes surrounded the two combatants, painting a macabre portrait of death and destruction.
Black…things lumbered around them, seemingly stuck to the outskirts. Some of the monsters sat hunched over the corpses and the faint sounds of tearing flesh reached the camera's microphone.
Rubble fell to the ground with great crashes, but the two combatants didn't so much as flinch. Their hatred for one another could be felt even through the television's screen.
Izuku's eyes widened. 'That's him, the one who hurt All Might!'
"Takahashi, can you tell us what we are seeing?" The anchor's words buzzed in Izuku's ears.
"The fighting has stopped for the moment," Takahashi yelled over the helicopter's whirs. "All Might and the unknown villain have been talking for nearly a minute."
Izuku caught hints of movement from within the rubble before the camera zoomed in on All Might's grief-stricken face. The teenager's shoulders slumped and tears filled his eyes.
'No.'
"We can't make out what they are saying from this high, but it appears to have shaken All Might!"
"Takahashi, can your crew get closer?"
"No, when they fought previously the sudden changes in air pressure and winds nearly caused us to crash," Takahashi replied. "Oh, wait. I see movement."
The camera shook and the screen flickered between static and still shots of the crew. Mournful wails filled Izuku's small apartment.
"Change it to another channel."
His mother flinched, but snatched the remote from the couch. The next channel's image was grainy, but he could see… something.
"I can't keep up with them, sir! They're moving too fast."
The camera flitted randomly for several minutes. Izuku waited with bated breath for a shred of information. For anything.
"There, point the camera there. Zoom in."
"Oh, fuck… No. All Might." The words slipped from Izuku's mouth, the situation dire enough that his mother didn't reprimand him for his language.
On the ground in front of the villain laid All Might. Blood streamed from grievous wounds strewn across his body. His arms and legs, once the premier symbol of physical strength, were withered and bent in unnatural angles. A gaping, gushing wound had ripped his chest to ribbons of shining flesh and bone.
"All Might… he's… dead."
A roar came from off screen just before a blond teenager dressed in red, white and blue with the number "one-million" on his chest appeared from the ground in front of the villain. Gold lightning flickered over his body.
"Lemillion is here!"
The very next moment, the monster glowed a sickly green, and the teenage boy fell at the villain's feet. The hero's hands shot to his ears as he screamed in agony, only to be silenced by the villain's boot. Golden lightning disappeared in faint whisps.
Slowly, ever so slowly, a smile peeked out from behind the villain's mask. He grabbed the unconscious hero and All Might's body before looking up at the camera.
"Soon," he whispered before disappearing into a black mist.
The television cut to static.
"Mom," Izuku whispered after several minutes. "What just happened."
He turned to see tears streaming down his mother's face. She hadn't been this upset since his diagnosis as a young child.
"I don't know, sweetie." Inko Midoriya stood on shaky feet and walked up the stairs. She paused at the top, her voice carrying. "But, unless someone can stop that man, I fear for us all."
Izuku sat, staring at the static screen. His mind felt as though chaos reigned within it, yet it was calm at the same time.
He looked down at his hands. 'Powerless. I couldn't do anything.'
"He killed All Might," Izuku whispered. "Nothing can stop him."
Sliding from the couch, Izuku fell to his hands and knees, tears and snot streaming down his face and onto the carpet. Fists clenched, he did something rarely done in modern society: he prayed.
"Please." His throat raw, Izuku coughed. "Please. Whoever's out there… Whatever's out there… We need help. This monster… This thing… We can't stop him! Please help us. Bring a stop to the madness before it starts. We need a hero. We need…a saviour… Please, help us."
Choking sobs wracked his body and drove his nose into the carpet. The apartment was silent besides his pleading.
"My son."
Izuku's head shot up, his eyes daring over the apartment. 'It's empty, but I know I heard something.'
"Worry not, for I am here, my son. I have always been here…with you."
