Chapter Two ~ A Cyborg and a Succubus

Note: As loathed as I am to admit it I have enlisted the help of Grammarly. This is all you're getting until I finish chapter 5 at the very least. I want to make sure I am a few steps ahead of the game at pretty much all times. Chapters 3 & 4 are done, need to be looked over once or twice, but otherwise done. Again, not a literary machine. I'll admit I write better than the average person (trust me I am not bragging I have seen some disasters on here for all manner of stories), but I am far from an expert. So long as you enjoy I guess I am happy with that. If not? Eh.

Izuku snapped awake, expecting to find himself on the floor of the kitchen, but instead, he was tucked neatly into his bed. Slowly he rose, looking around his room in utter bewilderment. Everything was just as he left it, nothing moved, nothing changed.

Shaking his head at the thought he slowly rose to his feet, finding himself once more met by the smell of food creeping through the seams of his door. Had that all just been a dream?

Maybe not all of it he decided upon taking his first step, the soreness in his calves flaring to life. Although he had never been overly athletic he had always maintained some level of physical fitness. Which was to say he wasn't necessarily the slowest kid in gym class. He wasn't the fastest either but that was beside the point.

With that said, his body ached.

Every muscle was screaming out in terror of a day that entailed doing anything other than laying in the bed, completely still, forever.

The point being if his muscles ached then at least the vast majority of the day was decidedly real. So while he had no idea as to if the crazy ancient guy with the pointy stick was, or if he was a stress-induced hallucination, he knew that the Ares guy was real at least.

Real? Yes. A steroid-crazed fitness freak with an absolute disregard for child safety laws? Also yes. But a Greek god on Japanese soil who had for some reason decided to help a random nerd get a good lift in on a random Saturday? That part was mostly up for debate.

"Honey?"

His eyes snapped toward the door, worried for a brief moment that the strange woman from last night was real and not a figment of his imagination. Even if imaginary katsudon was the best thing he had ever tasted in his life.

Instead, his mother stood there, forest Greek hair in her messy morning bun, pink slippers on her feet, and dull green eyes gazing at him with a decidedly usual amount of worry.

"Is everything alright Izu?"

He blinked, he wasn't quite sure, "Yes?"

"You were all tucked in when I got home. I don't think I've seen you sleep that deeply in years." She cocked her head to the side slightly, then moved over to him in a few short steps. Her hands cupped his face, moving it side to side gently as she inspected him. "Are you okay honey? You look exhausted."

She was one to talk. He had no doubt she had gotten home late if the bags under her eyes were anything to go by.

"I'm fine Mom," he lied, "just tired."

She watched him for a moment before sighing, "Okay honey, but you can talk to me if something is wrong, okay?"

Accepting his nod she patted his cheek before going back about whatever she had been doing before coming to check on him. Deciding to follow behind her in the hopes of breakfast he moved to join her only to stop, deciding to grab his phone first. Then he paused.

There, on his nightstand just beside his phone, sat a small roll of parchment. It was just a small scrap he might not have noticed had it not been for the bright emerald green strip of fabric that sealed it. Surely not…

Despite his better judgment he chose to take the paper, carefully unraveling the knot and unrolling it. A short, neat letter written in golden ink greeted him.

You seemed quite tired so I put you to bed.

A new face waits for you at the beach, he is quite excited to make a new friend. Take your time, he will be there when you are ready. Do be patient with him, he is a bit eccentric even among our family.

~ H

A simple symbol was stamped at the bottom in bright red ink. Fire burning within a simple bason atop a marble plinth. What he could only assume to be an ancient symbol for the heart of a home, the hearth.

On the bright side, he wasn't crazy. On the downside, he had a new decision to make.

While in a world of quirks, he could not exactly say that the people who had decided to make him the focus of their attention were literal gods. For all he knew they were an enigmatic group of quirk users with a secret agenda. Which were weirdly common enough to be a viable option.

Regardless they had yet to do anything outright worrying. Was that a reason to go to Dagobah Beach? No, not really, no. In fact, if he wanted to stretch things, Ares' workout regime had probably broken a few laws here and there. Hell one of them had broken into his home.

'To apologize about her nephew, cook him dinner, and tuck him in?' His brain argued. To be fair it had a point. Hestia had been anything but malicious. He doubted she had a rude bone in her body but regardless if she wanted to hurt him she easily could have.

Well, he did want to get stronger. Which would be difficult using traditional methods considering he was quirkless.

gods above he hated his luck.

With a heavy sigh, he put on a pair of comfortable clothes and told his mom he was going out for a bit. She hardly looked away from her most recent binge-watch to tell him she had packed him lunch just in case. Giggling at some gaudy romance sean like a school girl all the while.

Fortunately, he had somehow still managed to wake up a bit early, an old habit he had never quite shaken. Only a handful of people walked around the streets and the air was still a bit cooler than he knew it would be later in the day.

It was a pleasant but somewhat anxious walk to Dagobah. I mean for all he knew another psycho with a muscle addiction was waiting for him.

Upon arriving no one was waiting for him among the garbage as he had expected. Instead after a minute of searching, he noticed the sound of metal being moved about. Stepping around a couple more mounds he was finally greeted with who he assumed to be the person he was here to meet.

In a small patch of relatively clear beach, a large man sat before an old washing machine that boasted some strange modifications. His hair was thick and brown, singed at the ends and smoldering in a few spots. A long beard fell from his face, tied into thick knots occasionally ringed with gold and capped with a similar metal.

He was shirtless, revealing mounds of muscle behind the same olive-colored skin as Hestia and Ares. Thick leather gloves covering his hands, well one hand, an equally thick leather skirt about his waist.

Really though Izuku's eyes were drawn to his right side. The attached arm was not made of flesh and bone as the other was, but instead was a patchwork of golden plates shaping out the rough shape of an arm fixed atop pistons and gears made of silver and bronze. Occasionally as he moved steam escaped from the shoulder or elbow with a quiet hiss.

"Mind handing me that wrench?"

Izuku's attention snapped back to the man as a whole, noticing his natural arm stretched out behind him, palm held out expectantly.

Had he known that Izuku had been standing here the entire time? Wait, was this the man he was supposed to meet? What even was going on right now? Why was this guy tinkering with a random washing machine? Wait, why did the washing machine have an old TV wired into it?

"You hear me back there kid?" The stranger asked, head still buried in the core of the machine.

"Oh!" Izuku shook off his confusion. Rapidly he searched over the debris scattered about them before finding a strange-looking bronze wrench. He lifted it, noticing a strange warmth radiating from it as he did so.

Handing it to the man he was surprised to watch as it shifted, melting into liquid metal before reshaping itself into a screwdriver. Unfazed by this sudden change in tool the man went back about his tinkering.

For a bit longer than he would have liked Izuku watched silently as the man tinkered away. Not quite sure if he was supposed to be here or if this was even the man he was supposed to be meeting. Until finally the man removed his head from the interior of his junk pile. Returning the now hammer to his waist where it hung from a small leather strap the man dusted his hands together and stood.

For the first time, Izuku noticed his right leg was composed of the same machinery as the arm it was paired with.

"Well?" The man asked, warm brown eyes focusing on Izuku atop a proud smile, "What do you think?"

"Uh…?" Izuku glanced between the man and his strange machine.

"Oh, right, we haven't met yet." The man rubbed at his bearded chin, eyes cast down thoughtfully and lips downturned in a small frown. Suddenly he jutted out his mechanical hand as if having made up his mind on something, "names Hephaestus, god of Blacksmiths and a whole other bunch of nonsense, call me Festus."

"O-oh, uh, I-Izuku?" He took the giant's hand, taking note of how warm it was despite its appearance, and was nearly thrown off his feet as the man gave it a mighty shake.

Festus, as he wanted to be called, laughed merrily, releasing his hold on the vertigo-stricken boy and motioning once more toward his project, "So?"

"Oh wait!" Hephaestus exclaimed, snapping his metallic finger in the air as he remembered a crucial part of his presentation. The giant reached over his machine, twisting the knob that controlled the washing machine.

Suddenly the television atop it flared to life, a single unblinking eye displayed on its screen. The image grew fuzzy for a moment, and then the bits of metal strapped to its sides moved, extending out with a whirring noise and lifting the entire thing from the ground. Arms, those were arms Izuku realized. Becoming even more surprised when, once a foot or so off the ground a pair of legs presented themselves.

"Eh?" Hephaestus, who had moved to stand beside him, nudged him slightly. The god inclined his head toward the automaton, a proud smile on his face and eyes glowing with the excitement of a child who had gotten a new toy. "I call it the dryclops."

Honestly, Izuku might have found the pun funny, but his stupid mouth in all the confusion chose to betray him as it always did.

"That's a washing machine…"

The god turned back to meet Izuku's wavering gaze, blinked, turned to his machine, then pursed his lips, nodding slowly. The forge god scratched at his cheek with his normal hand, a quiet hmm sound escaping him as he looked over it with something akin to disappointment.

"Well, that does explain some of the mess inside that thing." He motioned toward its open front offhandedly. "Oh well," he stepped toward his living machine, giving it a pat on its 'head', "dryclops, go find yourself a brother will you?"

Despite having no noticeable way for it to register sound the machine gave a happy-sounding trill before clumsily bounding away into the valleys of trash in search of a suitable frame for its sibling.

Ironically the strangest part of the whole interaction was that compared to everything that happened yesterday this was only about a five on the weird scale, comparatively of course. Which was the only fair way he could grade this situation considering he had been living a painfully average life up until this point.

"Well kid," Hephaestus said after the sentient washing machine had disappeared behind a particularly large mound of garbage, "wanna learn how to make one?"

Izuku raised a brow at the giant, "Me?"

Boisterous laughter erupted from the man as he gave Izuku a friendly pat on the back, nearly toppling the boy in the process. "Who else kid? Ares was a bit too tough on ya for Aunt Hestia's liking. So I volunteered to teach you how to make use of all this scrap your trashin, and build some muscle while we're at it."

"We got what…" The god raised his mechanical hand as if looking at a watch and Izuku watched in awe as the plate of metal forming the back of his hand parted to reveal a small, moving orrery complete with every known planet moving at its appropriate pace, "ten months to get you ready? But then again I only get two of those just about."

Oh gods above he was right they did have some secret agenda. Were they grooming him to be a part of their secret order of pretend gods who wanted to rule over humanity? What use could they have for a quirkless kid with his eyes set on the big time? Did they need someone on the inside?

"None of that, kid." Festus chuckled lightly as if hearing his thoughts, or that he had spoken out loud which he honestly might have given his track record. "Can't get you into that hero school if you aren't well trained. Plus you're gonna need some damn fine constitution to handle my power, let alone someone like Dad or my uncles."

They wanted to help him? No, he decided, not just help him, but prepare him for the Yuuei entrance exams. He had come to this beach hoping to make a difference, to do something with his life worth a damn that he wanted to do.

Instead, he had been declared a suitable champion by some old guy carrying around a fucking spear of all things, got his ass kicked by the apparent Greek god of war, had his home invaded, and watched a steampunk cyborg turn a washing machine into his loyal minion. But to be fair they had been nothing but kind to him. Even Ares had helped him up and encouraged him to keep going when he had fallen or felt like he would collapse.

Truth be told that asshole probably just wanted to prolong the length of their pummeling but that was to be decided.

Now they were offering to help him into his dream school. In fact, they might have been trying to do that from the very start. Not that he thought Ares was an appropriate person to start the introduction between him and this…pantheon or to be allowed around people in general.

Wait…

"Handle your power?" He asked, brow raised curiously.

His newest instructor nodded, "What'd you think champion meant kiddo? Don't worry, Aunt Hestia has made the council very aware of how annoyed she is with the order of things. Says she wants you to 'decide for yourself," he air quoted, "You'd be there now but she's still busy yelling at my Da', so I figured I might teach you the way around a hammer and anvil first…figuratively speaking I guess."

Izuku wanted to retort that he was still painfully unaware of the depth of this whole thing. Decide on what exactly? If he wanted to join their cult? To be fair he wasn't quite sure he ever wanted to see Ares again, let alone meet more of this family.

He was, however, unable to voice any of his concerns as Hephaestus' automaton came careening through a mountain of trash beside them, toppling the entire thing in a mighty explosion of garbage and scrap metal. In its outstretched arms was a fridge. A very familiar fridge complete with chains and all.

"Come on kid," The god said, grabbing Izuku's clothes by the scruff and lifting the teen onto his shoulder, either not noticing or not caring about the discomfort he caused the nervous teen, "let's see if we can find some limbs for this thing."

It was going to be a long day.

When Izuku walked back into the entryway to his mother's apartment he half expected to see another deity waiting for him. But the rumble in his stomach sought to argue that Hestia's cooking would be a very welcome intrusion into his life.

"You're home a bit late, is everything okay honey?"

His mother materialized from behind the island a moment later, a steaming pan in her oven-mitt-covered hands. While he knew she was trying not to intrude in his personal life, her constant state of worry for his well-being was obvious as he met her eyes.

"Actually? I feel…good?"

The phrasing seemed to trouble her somewhat as she frowned for a moment, mulling over a thought before slowly nodding, "So long as you know you can talk to me…"

Weird, his mother had never given him that face.

More rumbling from his stomach kept him from putting any more thought into it, his mother's cooking having finally crept its way into his nose far enough to bring his gut back swinging. Quickly rushing into the shower he came back just in time for his mom to begin sitting down to watch more of her shows, a plate waiting for him on the counter.

Relaxing as he dug into a warm meal he thought about his day.

Hephaestus had been a startlingly good teacher, blunt when he needed to be, harsh when critiquing, but offering help along the way and encouraging throughout the entire process. While working with the god had not left him dreading the walk home, it had nevertheless been as intense as he had expected.

Apparently having been privy to the full spartan workout that Ares had submitted him to, the forge god had chosen to mostly focus on imparting upon Izuku the basic ins and outs of metal working. They had begun with more advanced electronics and something Festus had called the 'basics of constructing magical automata', but after the teen had nearly caused a fridge to explode in a manner that confused even a deity, they had swapped to something more basic.

Using the engine block of a Freightliner as a makeshift anvil and enlarging his hammer somewhat Hephaestus had begun beating on a car door he had forced Izuku to drag over while he collected the engine; which Izuku would like to note he had done with one hand.

With his normal hand at that!

Then, in a moment that caught Izuku's breath in his throat, the towering deity sucked in a deep breath and as he exhaled, fire spewed from between his lips. A controlled stream of flame that seemed to curl across the metallic frame of the door. Coiling across it as the god struck upon it, softening a spot only moments before a hammer followed heat, always one step ahead of the god but never moving quicker than he could match.

Almost an hour later he had produced an ornate shield, something that looked more like it should be on display in an art museum as a prized artifact rather than something that had been made in a dumb out of a car door.

An aspis Hephaestus had told him while offering it to him. It had been heavy, much more weight than he could hold for an extended period, but fit almost perfectly upon his arm.

Izuku's attempt had been…less perfect. He frowned thinking about the blackened lump of metal he had created with the help of his companion's fire breath.

Putting his dish away and wishing his mom a good night before yawning and returning to his room. Then proceeded to almost faint.

A woman lay upon his bed facing him. One dainty hand propped up against her pale cheek, the other laid over her side, her hand resting against her navel. Her upper leg was forward, laid out over the other. She hardly wore anything. Simple silken strips of fabric covered her in an enticing mockery of a pinkish robe, thicker bits of a velvet-like material fighting to protect her modesty.

Black hair spilled out from her in a shimmering waterfall of onyx, drawing attention to her pale features. His face was sharp, an alluring mix of Japanese with a few markings of European Mediterranean heritage. Shimmering eyes that shone with every color of the rainbow atop a soft sharp nose.

She was gorgeous, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Everything about her brought Izuku's mind to a screaming halt, blood rushing against his will much lower.

Soft crimson lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, "See something you like?"

All moisture left his mouth, the will to respond to her leaving him in an instant.

Rising at a painfully slow pace she softly padded her way across to him with bare feet. The robe she wore was almost fighting to decide whether it should show him everything he desired or leave him wanting.

One soft hand found its way to the center of his chest, freezing him in place and sending a pleasant chill down his spine. Fire raged in his cheeks

"Hmmm," she hummed quietly, lips downturned into a pout. His every instinct screamed at him to capture them with his own. "I like what I see Izuku…" her eyes rose from his chest, meeting his gaze with her own.

So entranced by her he had forgotten about the ache of his muscles, the tiredness of his day. He forgot about his mother but one room over, about the fact some strange woman had found her way into his room. Had forgotten he had never given her his name…

"So much potential," she continued, her free hand finding its way to his cheek, the other now roaming his chest steadily creeping lower, "I'm going to make you an Adonis. But before that…"

He gasped as her hand found its way onto his manhood, delicate, soft, and tingling his skin wherever it touched.

Then like a tidal wave, it came crashing down on him.

He stepped back, moving awkwardly from her grasp in a struggle to create distance between them. The ache in his muscles was back, but regardless he dropped into one of the fighting stances that Ares had quite literally beat into him. While there was no way he could use it to any serious effect something was better than nothing.

"W-who ar-are you?" He squeaked out, ruining any attempt at sounding intimidating. His embracement threatened to ignite his features in an inferno.

Whoever she was she obviously had some type of allure based quick, able to heighten the senses of anyone she touches while also driving their desires. It was a rare, unbelievably dangerous to those that had little willpower, and completely new territory for the teen.

"Awe," she pouted, crossing her arms disappointedly in what was quite literally the cutest tantrum he had ever seen, "I wanted to have some fun before we had to meet the others, it's soooo boring on Olympus these days."

"You're from Olympus?" he asked incredulously, shifting into a bit less combative stance.

"Duh!" She rolled her eyes, "I'm Aphrodite, you know, goddess of love and beauty."

The now revealed to be goddess tilted her head and brought it down slightly, eyes tilted up just enough to meet him. She bit at her lip, hands clasped behind her back as she swayed side to side softly.

"And pleasure," she whispered, taking one great step forward to stand face-to-face with him again.

"Enough, child." A stern voice demanded from behind her.

Warmth spread through the room, like a fire burning on a cold winter day. Cinnamon filled his nose, softening the acrid smell of wood smoke to but a minor aftertone. Yet whereas it had warmed his bones and relaxed his every ache, Aphrodite suddenly stood ramrod straight.

"Aunt Hestia! I was just-"

"I know exactly what you intended to do." Hestia stepped around the love goddess, coming to stand just to the side of both of them. "And had I known your father was going to send you I would have come myself."

Aphrodite gave a shrill eep before disappearing in a cloud of pink mist that smelled like ocean foam and perfume.

Giving an exasperated sigh the goddess of hearth and home turned from the dissipating cloud to the red-faced teen before her. The stern look she had been sporting fell away as she chuckled quietly, shaking her head as she looked over him.

"How did you find Hephaestus?" She inquired, licking her thumb and wiping something from his cheek. Which served to only turn his features even redder.

"He was great!" He exclaimed, early embarrassment fading as she removed her hand. "But I'm a bit worried I wasn't exactly the best student."

She smiled wider, "Never you mind your skill, you're learning and we all start somewhere, even gods. As for Hephaestus? He's been showing everyone and anyone who will listen to him an array of blueprints he's already drawn up for the two of you."

He tried to smile at that, really, but found himself frowning somewhat.

"But I'm not a god," he fought with himself for a moment then continued, "and I don't want to sound ungrateful but I'm not even sure who or what you are."

To be honest, he expected her to be annoyed by that, but she simply nodded softly.

"I understand your confusion, this has been a great deal heaped upon you without warning." She reached out her hand, offering it to him, "but if you take my hand I will tell you everything you want to know."

All his life Izuku had been a perfect child if you looked over the fact that he was quirkless. Schoolwork came to him naturally, so his grades were always well above average. Friends were not something he could ever consider himself to have so he rarely went out. Even on those few occasions he did go out it was rarely for anything but some time at the arcade or shopping for his mom.

He didn't talk to strangers, he wouldn't do drugs, and he never went anywhere he wasn't supposed to. One of those long standing traditions had already been broken, would he break another?

Logic told him that it was a bad idea. After all, allowing a strange woman to carry him off to gods only know where was likely the most dangerous thing he could even consider doing at the moment.

Emotion argued in return, reminding him that this was it. This was one of those life-defining moments where he could take the leap and risk it all, or turn her down and go back to the dreadful reality of a hopeless future.

Steeling himself he met her fiery gaze, nodding with certainty, then took her arm.