"Kurogiri," Shigaraki groaned, scratching at his neck, "deal with the scum for me. I
will sit back and watch a little, to see what he's capable of."
Patrick raced forward without any hesitation. He looked over at the odd object on his
wrist and noticed that the light emitting off it was no longer green, but a crimson red that hurt
the eyes to look at.
I suppose that means it won't work? He wondered, giving the watch a smack to see if
he would transform. It made an odd noise, which was clear enough in denoting its meaning: I
can't be used quite yet.
Damn useless thing, he spat as he came almost in melee of the creature or man that
stood before him. What the hell even is he?
He got only a brief chance to look at him. He did look like a man, yet at the same
time, he also looked like some otherworldly being. Patrick wasn't about to be surprised, not
anymore. Not after he himself had transformed in some sort of hideous creature that let him
thin out a number of vile humans.
This world is getting more and more interesting by the minute.
Patrick punched forward, landing his hard, bare knuckles into the man's abdomen. Yet
what found itself beneath the paldi green vest did not feel like a human body, but rather like a
thick layer of mist, bubbling and hissing over one. It was soft to the touch, yet as he pushed
more against it, it seemed to harden and push against his own attack.
Patrick looked up at the towering monster, taking note of the metal brace that clamped
around his neck. Is that some sort of weak spot, I wonder?
Yet he didn't get much of a chance to wander, for Kurogiri swung his own fists and a
cloud of dark-purple gushing mist exploded towards Patrick, almost catching him in its wake
if not for his quick reflexes.
He ducked right under the attack, and, as agile as he was, he shifted the position of his
feet, spinning over the ground and bringing his leg forward into a powerful kick that planted
against Kurogiri's calf.
The power which Patrick managed to amass in his kick would have broken a normal
person's leg in two upon impact, yet Kurogiri stood tall as if nothing had touched him.
That odd feeling again, Patrick tutted, shifting his weight back and bouncing away
from Kurogiri's reach. Is he covered in that mist even underneath his clothes? That's quite the
defensive.
Patrick then looked down at his watch some more. Still red.
Dammit. I can't face these monsters with my human body alone.
"You in a pinch, eh?" Shigaraki called from behind.
Patrick spared him a glance. He noticed, then, a set of eyes peering from behind the
hand that covered the villain's face. Those eyes looked directly at Patrick, as if searching for
some deeper motive within him.
"You know, Kurogiri here isn't the highest degree of fighter, you damn red-headed
freak," Shigaraki groaned, "to think you're struggling with him but you killed my Nomu.
What the hell are you getting at? Are you toying with us? You think this is some sort of
game?"
"Game?" Patrick chuckled, "if you really think that, then you should head on over to
see the intestines of your allies strewn all over the ground. I'm not playing here, you fool, I'm
just scoping things out."
"Scope all you want," Shigaraki brushed him off, "you're not going to get anything
that you want out of it."
"It's been a long while since that happened…since I haven't gotten exactly what I
wanted. I refuse to go back to such times."
"Blah-blah-blah. What are you, some abused child seeking pity? Give me a break."
"You're correct about one of those things," Patrick spat, hurling himself forward once
more. "Just to have you know," Patrick rolled his shoulders a little more. He tried to buy time
for himself, to get the watch working once more. The problem was that he didn't know how
long he had to endure, how long he had to stall for. "I will never ask for pity. I am above that.
I will not grovel and beg for mercy, or never stoop so low as to demand others go easy on me.
Life has always kept a harsh hold on my throat, and I have grown to be accustomed to such
treatment. If I die, I die—but at least I will do so in my own terms, with the pounding of my
own heart and with my own values pushing me forward."
"What a bunch of crap," Shigaraki shook his head, "oi, Kurogiri, do you hear this
guy?"
"Loud and clear, Tomura."
"Does he take you for the kind of guy to sound as righteous as he is?"
"He strikes me as a quite odd individual," the cloud of purple mist hissed. There were
two yellow eyes, slits of them, long and menacing, that looked on directly at Patrick from
atop that giant mistd head. His hands, too, were the only other places that the mist was
visible. Everything else was covered by clothes. "He claims to have killed many of our men.
What sort of hero kills?"
"The sort that wants to play-pretend," Shigaraki reached his hands for his own throat
again.
Something was irritating him, very much so. Patrick had picked up on the villain's
nervous tic from the very first moments he laid eyes on him.
"How many times must I say that I am not playing at anything?" Patrick gritted his
teeth, the irritation starting to feel as if it was contagious. "I am no hero. I never claimed to be
such a thing. Yet neither am I a villain," he spat.
"Eh? Then what the hell are you?" Shigaraki asked.
"I am justice," Patrick stomped his foot into the ground, sending a cloud of dust up
into the air, "I am the embodiment of its purest form: revenge."
Shigaraki's hands came away from his throat. He let them fall limply at his side as his
shoulders slumped forwards. He turned his head towards Kurogiri, not saying a thing, and
then towards the band of heroes that stood not too far away from him. Patrick followed his
gaze and he saw the weird hero dressed as an astronaut, looking intently back at him. There
were a lot of students too, now that he got a closer look than before, and the fear in their eyes
was quite more palpable than before now that he had a chance to open his mouth.
"Who the hell are you seeking revenge for?" Shigaraki asked, a bored tone in his
voice, "are you trying to get some sort of sob story out there for you? Are you starting a cause
or some shit?"
"You are too quick to make fun of me," Patrick shook his head, "undoubtedly, you
will regret it, I am sure of it. Still, I will answer you," he pretended to want to indulge in the
conversation, yet all the while, his glance shifted quickly towards the watch, trying to see
when the light was going to turn green. Yet still, it was red. "First and foremost," Patrick
started, "I seek revenge for myself. I seek revenge against the injustice that somehow seemed
to come crashing down over my body from a very young age. Yet don't you worry," Patrick
shook his head, "I am not egocentric. This is not only about me."
"I'm starting to have doubts about that," Shigaraki rolled his eyes, "what about you,
Kurogiri?"
"Let the man speak, Tomura. I am curious."
"Eh?" Shigaraki growled, "don't you get lured in by his speech."
"I am simply curious," the man made of purple mist crossed his arms, the yellow slits
of his eyes resting on Patrick, watching carefully for every single word that came out of his
mouth.
"It is not about me," Patrick continued, "it is about everyone that has been cheated by
the system, cheated and robbed by this unjust world. It is the job of those in power to look
over the weak, is it not?" Patrick asked, looking from the camp of heroes and then back
towards the villains, "if that were the case, where are the strong? Where are those in power
now, when you two and your band of villains are terrorising these students? There are a few
heroes, yes, I see them," Patrick glanced towards them once more, "but they seem to stand no
chance against you. What sort of society is this? What sort of world is this in which the bad
swallows up the good with so much ease? How can anyone sleep at night knowing that the
darkness triumphs over the light? How, huh, how!?"
As he spoke, Patrick got more and more into it. He brought his arm forward and
clutched his fist in the air, shaking it as his fury unleashed out of his system, arranging all of
the words in the right order, putting his mind out for the new world he inhabited to hear.
Yet something caught him by surprise as he brought his hand forward.
Yes, he thought.
The watch was green. Still—he wanted to continue, to finish his speech, and to let
them all know who he was.
"They cannot!" he shouted, "they simply cannot! Why do you think the world is in
decline, why the population no longer soars and brings new children, new prospects for the
future of humanity to rely upon? I'll tell you why, that's because there is no trust, no safety,
no insurance that those children will grow up in a loving world, in a safe world, in a world
worth fighting for. I say screw all that," he spat, "I say screw all of that uncertainty. I will
fight for those children, I will fight for the future of humanity, and I will fight for the small
guy, the guy that does not have the money to buy himself a single crumb of justice, the guy
that has been told his entire life that justice is served to everyone, and is not bought. It's for
those people that I fight, not for myself. I am the mere representation of their accumulated
wrath. I am the product of their fury. Only I can enforce true justice! Only I can bring about
true peace."
"Through sheer brutality?" Kurogiri asked, "through killing others? Is that what you
call justice?"
"Justice comes in whatever form is needed of it. You think true justice can come with
a suppressor attached? No," Patrick shook his head, "no. Justice roars! It roars at the top of its
lungs and shatters the windows of buildings, rupturing ear drums. It roars like a battle cry.
Who is going to hold you villains accountable for terrorising these children for the rest of
their lives? They will have trauma because of you. You cannot make up for that with a slap
on the wrist that you're most likely to get. No, you must pay for ruining so many lives—you
must pay with your own. You think being brutal is bad? Well, let me tell you this," Patrick
bent his arm towards himself, bringing his other hand up and latching onto his watch, "Justice
with mercy is like a pitbull that has had its teeth pulled out—it simply can't get the job done,"
Patrick pressed onto the sides of the watch and the green light flared up, revealing the shape
of yet another alien.
"Kurogiri, what the hell are you doing?!" Shigaraki roared, "can't you see he's up to
something? I told you to fight him! Go!"
"Right this moment," Kurogiri nodded and his mist started to thicken as it gushed out
of his body. It spread over the rest of him, and Patrick kept him in his gaze as a large swirl of
mist started to form.
Patrick was then surprised to see that Kurogiri sunk into the swirl, disappearing from
before him.
What the— he wondered, yet then he heard the hiss of mist coming from behind him.
Patrick jumped away, turning to face Kurogiri, who was now materialising out of
another large swirling cloud of purple mist right next to him, ready to reach out his hands
through it to grab him. Yet before Kurogiri could make his stand, Patrick slammed his palm
down onto the watch and the green light burst out of it, blinding everyone in the surroundings
momentarily as Patrick began to transform.
He didn't understand at first the changes that were happening to his body, all that he
knew was that he was shrinking, or rather, that he was growing more compact. His head was
growing larger and his limbs seemingly began to twist and and thicken. He felt the skin on his
back starting to snap and tear as something grew out of them. He couldn't see them at first,
and neither could he properly feel them, yet what popped up out of his back were three horrid
tentacles.
They sprouted violently, taking on the appearance of his own flesh at first as they
twitched to life like the legs of some critter. Quickly enough, though, those fleshy appendages
that burst out of him started to grow sharp barbs at the very ends, which opened up and
twitched in their own turn, as if they were searching for something to pierce.
Patrick found himself hunched on all fours, spread over the ground as his torso split
open, and his intestines splashed out of him, making a bloodied mess over the floor. Yet he
did not fret, for it didn't seem like he needed them to keep on living. Out of his hollow toros,
several tentacles sprouted and started to trash over the floor, banging against his own
intestines and moving them aside, as if brushing them out of the way. His knuckles crunched
as they stopped into the ground, as his eyes grew wide and pale.
But the transformation did not end there. No…it wasn't even close. He knew because
he could feel a tremendous heat sprouting up inside of him, a heat that burned with so much
rage he thought he might melt.
Yet then he could see it, peering through the green flash of his watch, he could see his
own flesh staring to sizzle and bubble up as if he was getting burnt alive. Then, without any
warning, his flesh had turned into a vibrant orange colour, like the very soul of a raging fire.
His whole body was covered in the colour, and Patrick was quick to realise that it was not just
the colour that had changed about him, but the whole structure of his flesh.
It was no longer human flesh. There was no more muscle or bone or anything of the
sort. He was pure, radioactive energy, radiating violently and without any inhibitions. The
ground crackled and hissed under his touch as he began to burn into it. The gravel was
melting from the pressure and the dirt underneath it was quickly turning into scorched mud.
"Kurogiri!" Shigaraki roared from behind Patrick.
For the first time, Patrick could sense true emotion inside of Shigaraki's voice. Yes, he
had been frustrated, but frustration is not an emotion that one could deem real. It's simply a
fit of passion, that erupts out of somebody at a whim. But fear? Fear was one of the purest
emotions—right alongside love and hatred.
Yes, Patrick told himself, satisfied, feel that fear, you damn rat, feel it, for that's what
you're supposed to feel when you're facing me.
Yet as his transformation completed, his primary target found itself right before him.
Shigaraki could wait for a little later. Patrick's newly formed pale, wide eyes were now
starting to grow yellow bolts blitzing out of them from the sheer amount of energy, bolts
which he used to see Kurogiri uncertain whether he was to materialise fully or not.
To test the waters, the man made out of purple mist unleashed a powerful attack. It
was like a dark whip of mist that lashed towards Patrick, coming to crackle over his head to
try and damage him.
Patrick did not move. His limbs seemed to be a little too heavy at first, and he was
clumsy with their movement. Yet that was not the reason he chose to remain still. No. He
simply chose to do so because he knew from ahead of time that the attack was not going to
harm him.
And he was right. As soon as the whip of mist lashed against his back, it hissed and
disintegrated right away, as if it had no power behind it at all.
Kurogiri's yellow eyes widened with shock, but then they narrowed right away,
knowing that he couldn't just give up at that moment. He unleashed yet another attack, but
now, seeing that the top of the body was not accessible, he came for the limbs, hoping that
they would be weaker and easier to take down.
The mist thickened and hurled forward, wrapping like a lasso around Patrick's right
hand that was pressed onto the ground. Patrick was surprised to find that the mist didn't
dissipate right away, yet that was because Kurogiri added a lot more power to this attack. He
managed to pull backwards once, budgingPatrick's leg a single inch before the mist
disappeared.
That's enough fun for you, Patrick groaned, making up his mind that the time to watch
was over. He wanted to speak to say something, yet all that happened was that his large
round, energy-dispensing head rolled backwards and his mouth widened into a powerful roar,
one that shook the entirety of the place and sent shivers down the spines of the onlookers.
Patrick then gained control of his body. Not only of the four limbs he was aware he
had, but also of the appendages that sprouted out of his back and the tentacles that gushed out
from his torso, dragging over the floor.
What Patrick made use of first were the appendages. He flexed them, toying with the
sharp, energy-infused barbs. He shook one of the appendages and lashed it towards Kurogiri,
who was still resting in his portal-gate of mist, as if ready to depart at any moment, yet the
radioactiva barb that shot out of the top of the appendage moved at an incredible speed. The
only problem was that the accuracy was a little off, as Patrick was not quite used to the limb
itself and its function.
The barb flew quickly into the distance until it landed against some rock. The moment
it made impact, a blinding light erupted and a wheeeee filled the ears of heroes and villains
alike.
As soon as the flash blinked out of existence, the large rock that was once there had
been completely melted out of existence. Kurogiri, of course, could not permit himself to turn
around and confirm the power of Patrick's attack, yet he could tell its significance from the
sheer horror on Shigaraki's eyes.
"Oi, oi, oi," he groaned, and he brought his hands over to his neck once more, "what
the hell is that firepower? Where did you get all of that from!?"
His fingers were so sporadic and tight as they bit into his own flesh that he started to
draw blood.
Patrick cared not for their antics any longer. He lashed another barb towards Kurogiri,
whilst he turned one other appendage behind himself, making it face Shigaraki, and spitting
out a barb in his direction as well.
Kurogiri was slower to react, but his ability made it a lot harder to properly harm him.
He sank into his own mist and closed down the portal, disappearing into thin air and letting
the barb once more fly out into the distance. This time around, it landed against the ground,
exploding once more and melting a deep hole within it.
Patrick waddled on his feet as he slowly started to turn his odd body back around and
towards Shigaraki, to see how his attack towards him had fared. What he saw satisfied him
deeply. A deep whole had been burned into the ground, but the explosion had sent Shigaraki
flying and banged him into a distant wall, where he remained, unmoving and almost lifeless,
blood dripping from his body.
Is that all it takes to kill you? Patrick asked, sounding almost disappointed, it was
harder killing that awful creature with its brain exposed.
Patrick narrowed his eyes, looking into the distance over Shigaraki's body to see if
any signs of life were coming through. Yet the distance was simply too big between them, so
he decided to get going.
He moved slowly, waddling like a damn toddler on all fours, putting one arm and then
leg in front of the other. As he did, the ground melted beneath him from the sheer radiation,
and the hiss that followed his steps was quite soothing to the mind.
As he stepped closer to Shigaraki, he passed by the heroes, getting closer to them.
"Get back, everyone," the astronaut stepped forward.
Patrick turned his head towards them. The fear was still there. He didn't mind that.
You need to get back, he tired telling them, but his voice was not working. The mouth
opened, yet all that came were two horrible tentacles limping out and splashing onto the floor.
"Is…is it trying to talk to us?" a student cloaked in a mysterious shadow asked, his
head taking the shape of a bird, his mouth that of a powerful beak, "I don't understand a thing
it's saying."
At least someone with brains, Patrick wanted to smile, brains enough at least, to be
able to tell that this is an attempt at communication. Still, it's not working. They're still
standing there. So be it—I will have to tell them otherwise, then.
Patrick ran some quick calculations in his mind before he let a radioactive dart fly
towards them. It landed a good distance away from them, so the blast of the explosion
wouldn't affect them, and that the radioactive energy would do minimal damage to their
bodies.
"Watch out!" the astronaut jumped in front of the children, pointing its finger towards
the explosion, a finger that latched open and started to suck in all of the debris and flames
that erupted from the attack, "everyone stay behind me!"
He put himself in front of them all, taking the brunt of the radioactive energy as he
protected his students. Patrick watched him, touched for a moment by his sacrifice.
That is what I like to see, he told himself, turning his attention away from them as
they were finally in a good enough distance. He then started to walk, slowly but surely, away
from the heroes and towards Shigaraki, the boy who now seemed to be coming back to life.
There's a twitch in his body. He's not quite as weak as I thought.
As he stepped away, he could hear the heroes chattering behind him.
"What is that thing!?"
"What is that quirk?"
"Is it a villain?"
"Is it one of us?"
"He is not a hero," the astronaut responded, and that was a voice Patrick could
recognize, "that is for certain. We don't know what side he truly is on, all we know is that he
doesn't seem to want to be harming you students. He seems to be fixated on the villains. Still,
don't let your guard down, we don't know what may happen next!"
Patrick continued trundling forward, all until he saw the cloud of purple mist
materialising besides Shigaraki, forming into a portal.
"Tomura," Kurogiri groaned, "we need to get out of here. There is no chance for us.
He is too strong, too volatile, and we don't know what he's really capable of. He took out the
Nomu before All Might got here. This is no place to be around."
"Shut up, Kurogiri," Shigaraki groaned as he dragged himself to his feet. His clothes
were torn and his whole body was bleeding, "that damn thing is radioactive," he coughed and
blood splattered onto the inside of the hand that clutched his face, "my body ramming into
this damn wall didn't do as much damage as that damn radioactivity did to my internals. This
is no good," he brought his hands over to his throat. His nails were peeling off and turned
black, "this is no good at all, dammit! I wasn't told of him! Who are you, who damn are
you?!"
He roared at the top of his lungs, the fear which he felt before now turned into
absolute and pure hatred. He suddenly moved one of his hands away from his throat and
slammed it into the ground. Patrick narrowed his attentive eyes, trying to see what Shigaraki
was doing, at first, not quite understanding what was taking place.
Yet then, as he looked on better, he realised that the ground began to crack. No…it
began to wither away, as if something was seeping all life away from it. Everything was
decaying, and that decay was rushing its way towards Patrick.
"I can't get near you, you coward," Shigaraki roared, "but don't worry, I can just
destroy everything around you. I'll bury you under the Earth itself, you horrible creature!"
The decay rushed over at an incredible pace. Rocks and trees and any sort of
pavement that stood in the way disintegrated into dust that was so fine and thin that could be
picked up by the lightest of breezes and carried off into the distance.
That's quite the technique, Patrick had to admit, if I had turned into something else
other than this creature, then I might've had some trouble dealing with you. It turns out,
though, that in this world, fate seems to be a little in my favour.
With a smile deeply etched into his mind, Patric moved the tentacles that sprouted out
of his torso. He shot them forwards, right through his arms, extending them so far and with
such speed that Shigaraki didn't even have time to react.
The radioactive tentacle latched onto his arm, wrapping all around it, all the way up
from the forearm and onto the shoulder, melting through the skin and muscle right away.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Shigaraki roared at the top of his lungs as
his hand was getting burned.
Yet his screams were not going to save him. Patrick tightened the grip of his tentacle,
intensifying the heat to such a degree that all the heavy splashes of blood that erupted out of
Shigaraki's melting arm were getting evaporated—turned into pure mist that hissed as it rose
up into the air.
It wasn't long before the tentacle latched onto bone, and the bone itself was no
exception. Patrick tore and melted right through it, all until all that was left of that arm was
complete and utter nothingness.
"AAARGHH—" Shigaraki continued to howl, stumbling backwards and landing on
his ass as blood sprouted from his arm socket, gushing onto the floor. "You damn…you vile
creature! Look what you did to me, AARRGHHH!" as he roared, his other hand he brought
up to his neck, he dug his broken nails into his flesh and pierced it so deep that he was almost
scratching on the inside of his own throat, "he's not going to be happy with you! He's not,
oh—damn you, you're screwed! The moment he hears of this, you're screwed! He'll find you
once he heals, oh—he will, damn you! DAMN YOU! AARRGH! It hurts so much—but he'll
find you, he'll damn find you!"
Shigaraki writhed around in a puddle of his own blood, hissing and puffing and
dragging himself away from Patrick. His feet were stomping against the ground as he was
trying to push himself to safety, but they slid and splashed into the puddle of blood that
formed beneath him.
Kurogiri stepped out of the mist, planting one foot onto the ground as he extended his
arm towards Shigaraki.
"Tomura, come! We must leave, before—"
Before what? Patrick smiled, unleashing yet another tentacle, this one much faster.
His control of it was still not quite as apt as he would've liked, but the tentacle latched onto
both of their legs. Let's see how that mist protects you now, you vile thing!
Patrick squeezed and he burned through all that there was to burn. Shigaraki's leg was
sizzling and melting, whilst Kurogiri's smoked protection was quickly dissolving, revealing
the flesh that was underneath as he tore through that as well.
More blood erupted out of their limbs as they melted, but before he could do any
more damage, Shigaraki latched his hand onto Kurogiri's and they pulled each other into a
portal of mist, disappearing in the fogged realm, away from the grasps of Patrick.
Damn cowards! He roared inside of his own mind, yet as he did, he could hear a
crowd of footsteps fast approaching. He was about to turn his appendages towards them,
ready to release another explosive barb, yet just as that crossed his mind, a beeping sound,
that of his transformation coming to an end, filled his mind once more. Dammit, not now!
A red light burst out of him and brought him back into his human body as he got
surrounded by more villains.
They did not ask any questions, instead, they came directly for his head. One of them
held a circular boomerang blade which he spun and then threw towards Patrick. With nimble
moved, he bent his body in half and ducked the initial swing. The blade whistled as it cut
through the air and Patrick turned himself towards it as it was about to return back to the
sender, angling his body just right to be able to catch onto its hilt, getting in possession of it.
"Now what?" he smiled as he asked the attacker, "I got your weapon."
Yet he wasn't alone. There were 3 more villains with him. One of them had giant
energy balls floating around him, and he circled them and shot them at Patrick's direction.
Patrick nimbly swerved out of their way as he hurried in melee range, and, as soon as he got
there, he spun the boomerang blade in his hands and cut the man in two, splashing blood
everywhere onto the ground as his torso slid diagonally off the legs.
Two of the others remaining with powers at their disposal seemed to be working in
sync, as they both sent powerful frost blasts towards him, one coming for his head, whilst the
other was coming for his feet.
A normal person would not have been able to dodge such an attack, yet Patrick was
anything but normal. He jumped, flattening his body as he spun horizontally, letting the two
blasts fly over and under him as he kept the blade pressed to his body. Using the momentum
of his swing, he flung the boomerang forward towards one of them with so much force that
they couldn't even react.
He sliced them in half just as well, and, as soon as the blade made impact with the
body, it started coming back for him, but Patrick did not catch it, instead, he jumped over it,
letting the boomerang blade swing the other way and towards the other villain. The speed was
much slower, and once it made contact with the body, it did not get a clean cut, but rather it
dug itself into his abdomen, letting viscera and blood spill out over the blade itself as the
man's life seeped out of him.
"Not a bad weapon," Patrick slowly walked towards the corpse, falling to its knees
with blood gushing out of every part of its body. He grabbed the blade by the hilt and pulled
it out of the body with a squelch, letting it thud against the floor. "Now, you are all that is left,
right?" he smiled, turning to the very first that flung the blade towards him. Without giving
him much time to think, Patrick swung the blade forward, right for the man's throat. It hurled
through the air and gave it such a perfect cut that the head shot up into the air with a powerful
stream of blood accompanying it.
Patrick followed the head with his eyes as it came falling down towards him. He
realised just then that with the death of that villain, the blade had disappeared, as if it had
been attached to his body in some sort of way.
"How odd," Patrick thought to himself, reaching his hand out and catching onto the
decapitated head. He looked at it in its dead eyes and carried it back towards the heroes. He
threw it at their feet, letting it roll and squelch with blood. "They're all gone."
Yet the heroes and students were not looking at Patrick. No. They were looking at
somebody else, someone much more imposing. Patrick only noticed him after, when he
leaned his head back and looked up atop the flight of stairs. He stood tall and proud, his body
muscular, with his fists pressed against his hips.
He stared right down into Patrick's soul.
"Who might you be?" Patrick asked.
"Heh," the man chuckled, "odd to hear that. I am All Might," he said, "the beacon of
light. Who are you, young man?"
"Your friends should be able to tell you," Patrick said, looking up at the giant of a
man. He looked like something he had never seen before. His aura simply made him shine, as
if he was made out of gold, "I don't have time to sit around and chat. The villains have
escaped me."
"Are you a hero?" All Might asked.
"I wouldn't put such a filthy title over my head. No, I am no hero."
"Are you a villain, then, young man?" All Might narrowed his eyes, "careful how you
answer that."
"I am no such thing either. I am the middle ground. I am the balance. I am the true
justice," he responded.
All Might shook his head. "That cannot be. You have blood on your hands. Too much
of it to be able to call whatever you're doing justice."
"How can you tell?"
"I can smell it on you."
Patrick looked down at himself. There was absolutely no trace of blood on him. His
transformations have gotten rid of all of it. He looked like a fresh, clean slate of himself.
"Don't look at your body, young man. The blood that you spill doesn't only cover the
body," All Might paced downwards over the steps, slowly descending and coming towards
him, "the body is the last thing you should worry about when it comes to murder. It is the
soul that gets damaged the most, and the mind right after. I can see…" he sighed, "I can see
in you a great, bright mind. I can see that you want to do good…but your methods, young
man, they are much too vile. You must give them up right this very second."
"I would never do such a thing," Patrick stood his ground. As soon as he did, a
tremendous threatening presence erupted out of All Might's body.
I see, Patrick smiled, up until this very moment, you were not decided on whether to
fight me or not. But now that I won't bend to your sense of justice, you are willing to fight me.
Interesting…quite interesting…maybe the two of us are not quite different, All Might…our
values might rest on the same side of justice…the only difference being that you are not
willing to step into the shadows…into the darkness to accomplish such a thing. You are much
too comfortable in the shining light of glory…in the cleanliness of a good image…of the
public's opinion. Very well…
"I must say," Patrick lifted his hand before him, the watch now green, "I have no
intention to fight you."
"Neither did I, until a moment ago," All Might gritted his teeth, "and I am willing to
give it up if you're willing to stop your massacres, young man. We can talk this out. I can put
you on the right path. You have great potential."
"I shall not let someone else tamper with my potential, I am afraid. I refuse your
offer."
"I warned you."
All Might propelled himself off the ground, dashing through the air as he cocked his
large arm backwards. Patrick barely had time to press down onto his watch and begin his
transformation by the time All Might made contact.
His large, powerful knuckles slammed into Patrick's torso, breaking his ribcage and
bending his whole body around it. The impact made the air itself disperse behind him as
Patrcik was shot through the air as he began to transform.
He had not realised it in that moment, but the power of the punch had stopped his
heart, technically killing him. Patrick was lucky enough that the transformation had begun,
and the body of the creature that he was about to become had regenerated him just in time as
his body morphed into it.
As soon as he slammed into the wall, cracking it, he had stepped out of the human
Patrick body and had become the radioactive creature that he had been once before already.
"That's quite the hideous look, young man. I liked you much more before. The red
hair suited you," All Might's voice came from above.
Patrick could barely crane his neck upwards, but what he could do was feel the brunt
of the two fists, coming together and slamming down into his back, almost breaking it as he
was shot into the ground, putting a crater into it as his body began to melt the ground.
He doesn't care about my radioactive body? What the hell…this strength…it's
incredible…I…I can't stay here for long…I need to get out…or…or…
A thick hand grabbed onto all of his appendages. He tried to increase the heat level to
melt through All Might's hand, but it didn't seem to do anything. His body was too sturdy as
he latched onto them and lifted him up in the air.
"Give up, young man," he spoke, looking into his eyes, "I do not want to do this.
Come to our side. Step into the light."
Enraged, Patrick lashed out the tentacles that protrude out of his chest, whipping them
through the air and wanting to latch onto one of All Might's legs, to rip it off so he could
escape. But All Might was faster and much stronger and he moved his hand just in time to
latch onto his tentacles too, catching onto them and holding still.
"Do it, young man," All Might continued to try and persuade, "let go of that darkness.
It's not a good place to be in. It's a lonely place, trust me, I know—I know, young man. The
world feels unjust, the world feels unfair. I feel that burden every day. Every day there are
people that die, people that suffer, because I can't be in all places at once, because I cannot
divide my attention to the entire world. I can feel that same burden on your soul. I can feel
that you want to help the weak, you want to protect them. But this…your way…is not the
way. Think this over and—"
Patrick opened his mouth as a ray of pure radiative energy started to accumulate
within his shrunken throat. All Might's hold onto him was too tight and he was too deep into
his speech to be able to dodge the attack.
The ray blasted out of the throat and banged right into his chest, burning through his
shirt and propelling the large hero backwards through the air. Patrick kept the ray going,
hoping to melt through the muscles of the old man, yet he simply puffed his chest out and
took the brunt of the attack as he landed back onto his feet a good distance away.
"You're really not going to accept my offer?"
Patrick kept pressuring with his attack. He had to put as much distance between the
two of them as he tried to look for a way out of there.
"I see," All Might kept taking the blast to the chest. His skin was turning red as the
extreme levels of radiation were finally starting to affect him. Some of it bubbled up and his
flesh tore, but he had to endure all that pain, he had to, in hopes that it would vindicate a hurt
soul like Patrick's, in hopes that it would show him that someone out there is willing to
endure all of that pain for the sake of his redemption. Sadly—it was not enough, "then so be
it, young man…"
All Might pulled back his arm, clenching his fist and rushing it forwards through the
air. The speed and power of it was so immense that it had pushed against the wind, sending a
powerful blast of it against the Patrick's ray, redirecting it back towards Patrick himself.
CRAP! Patrick groaned as the blast landed right under him, exploding as it propelled
him up into the air. He soared mightily, flailing around trying to see where he was, yet as he
flailed and looked down, he saw that All Might jumped off the ground and was rushing
through the air right after him, wanting to catch him and to slam him into the ground. Crap,
crap, crap!
A sudden will to not fall down towards the earth had come over him. He wiggled his
limbs and appendage in the air a little longer before that will actually materialised—until
Patrick found himself capable of flight.
What? This…this thing can do this?!
Without letting surprise cumber him too long, Patrick flew away at an incredible
speed. He flew up and away towards the glass domed ceiling, away and out of All Might's
reach.
"YOUNG MAN!" he called after him, just as Patrick slammed through the glass and
escaped, "think hard about what I told you. THINK hard!"
I've had much too many years to think about it…much too many years to endure for
me to change my mind now. You live in your light…I will bask in the shadows…
He flew away, soaring into the sky, glad to be out of harm's way. His mind raced with
many thoughts, some conflicting, some as hard-set as his beliefs.
Yet one thing was for certain, and there was no changing it: he had slain a good
amount of villains, and the limbs he tore from Shigaraki and Kurogiri were going to please
him for a long time.