Hello all! Thank you for viewing "My Hero Academia: Dynasty"! I figured after 3 chapters I should now introduce myself. You can call me Spectafyr (pronounced specta-fire), Specter, or Spec. I wanted to write the story of MHA from the perspective of a brand-new character to introduce new, original elements and topics that were previously left unexplored. This is basically a passion project so please don't set your expectations too high, I am still learning and improving when it comes to my writing. The least I want to do is create an enjoyable narrative.

*Please be aware of the T rating on his story as it explores sensitive topics. Without further ado, please enjoy chapter 3!

"What– what's wrong?"

Shoyu continued to grasp his mother's burned hand as if it were something he had never seen before. His parents were adamant about not hiding anything from Shoyu and he was fully aware of what they had to do to reject their past. To teach him care and kindness was to teach him sacrifice and reality. This also meant that their Quirks were no secret to him, so he shouldn't have had a reason to be so entranced by the mechanism of Yumie's Quirk operating.

"Ah… nothing," Shoyu said, letting go of her hands. "Let me help you clean up this mess."

"Weird things have been happening all day," Shoyu thought as he wiped down the counter. "Adapter. Mutant-class, heals from damage. That's my mom's Quirk. I never tried to think about it, but it just entered my brain as soon as I saw it."

"Shoyu, the counter's clean."

His eyes widened as he snapped back to reality. "Oh."

Shoyu balled up the light-blue cloth and threw it in a laundry hamper. He had an expression that Yumie could tell something was off. It was resolute as if he was planning something. She watched as he turned the corner, opening the door to Dr. Shinyu's home office.

"Hey Dad," Shoyu said, picking up a book.

"Yeah? What's up?" He responded from inside, taking his reading glasses off.

"Help me with this. You have to find a guy wearing a white and red sweater," he said, flipping to a random page and setting it down in front of him. "No cheating."

"Uh… okay," Shinyu said, puzzled by his son's sudden interest in puzzles. "Hm…"

After about a minute of Shinyu examining the page and Shoyu staring at him, he caught extremely subtle blue wisps beginning to emerge from Shinyu's face that was turned away from Shoyu's eyes.

"He's cheating, using his Quirk and thinking I can't see him," Shoyu thought, sighing to himself with a quiet chuckle. "but, nothing's happening right now. Maybe if I get a better look…"

He walked away from his position that loomed over his father and instead sat across from him. Before he could see Shinyu's characteristic white-colored eyes that he inherited, he caught a glimpse of ocean-hued sclera, and the thoughts came rushing in. Familiar thoughts.

"Fast-Tracking. Class: Transformation. Enhances perception, processing, and kinetic vision to pick up on small details."

"I knew it. For some reason, I know exactly what a Quirk is when I see it. What's wrong with me? Am I really Quirkless?"

"Ah, here he is," Shinyu said, placing his index finger on a spot on the page. "He's on the carousel."

Shoyu remained seated, his mind racing with questions and uncertainties. Since the headaches worsened, and his vision changed, he pondered whether his condition was due to a newfound Quirk despite having been confirmed Quirkless. They'd probably panic, and then one thing would lead to another, and then their status might be compromised by the people they so desperately tried to escape from.

"Oh, thanks Dad," Shoyu quickly mustered, standing up and taking the book. "I haven't been able to find him."

"Of course… you okay?"

"Yeah… just a bit tired. I think I'll go for a walk."

The city lights made for a peaceful milieu and atmosphere as Shoyu slowly stepped on the sidewalk, clad in a black zip-up jacket with his hood up and the characteristic phrase "私が来た" written on his breast with a stylized icon of the #1 Hero, All Might with his characteristic smile. He never had much of an interest in heroes and hesitated from wearing it as a result, keeping it only because it was a Christmas present from his parents. He wondered why he felt less reluctant to wear it this time around.

"I'd like to prove that anyone can become a hero no matter what."

"Ah… that's probably why," Shoyu remarked, recalling his conversation with Midoriya during the villain attack.

Shoyu had known people that were aspiring heroes ever since he entered middle school. He was familiar with hearing about any and all people and their dreams to become the stuff of comic books. There was nothing special to what Izuku said, so why did it stick?

Because it doesn't take a Quirk, weak or strong, to have resolve.

To him, heroism was never an option. In this world of supernatural, almost magical phenomena, Shoyu desired to be weak, to allow his parents the opportunity of free living, to keep the Akuzoma family away from him. Also, he was Quirkless.

He's Quirkless, right?

He paced up and down the same sidewalk with an intensely focused expression on his face, causing the citizens around him to steer clear of his path. His mind went through a rollercoaster of emotions and hypotheses in an attempt to explain his situation, or make himself feel better that things were changing.

"This is a dream."

"It's a new type of headache."

"I'm dead."

Several delusional and unreasonable thoughts came out of the woodworks that saturated his anxiety, uncharacteristic of Shoyu. The same Shoyu that cried only briefly after his birth. The same Shoyu that took care of his mother at just ten years old when his father was stuck in surgery. The same Shoyu that calmly cast aside his own desires and passions without hesitation to aid his parents. The same, calm, selfless Shoyu.

"Hey kid, you okay?"

He clutched his hoodie tighter, looking to his side at a man, clad in a light blue happi running a stall that served takoyaki with an apparent concern on his face like any good samaritan. Shoyu couldn't do anything but stare at him with his eyes widened like orbs.

"Why don't you have some water?"

The sky was distorted. The moon was red. Everyone stood in place while the foodworker's worried expression transformed into a wicked, Cheshire cat smile, his words warping into a jumbled mess of barbaric gibberish. The entirety of his frame was visible. He was on the job and had numerous balls of takoyaki, but they were floating on his fingertip with a light aura. And Shoyu witnessed it.

"Telemancy. Class: Emitter. Allows indirect manipulation of small obj-"

"AAAGH, SHUT UP!" Shoyu shouted, causing everyone around him to stop and look.

The emergence of this new information exacerbated the episode he was currently going through. He couldn't even hear his own thoughts as he processed the man's Quirk against his will. He was paralyzed when his head began to feel like it was constricting in on itself and his airways became tighter.

"Hey, can we help this kid?" said the man, slowly and gently approaching Shoyu who was squatting on the ground, clutching at his head. "It'll be okay. Just br-"

The manic Shoyu grabbed the man by the collar and threw him aside, summoning strength he never knew he had. He performed explosive forward momentum towards the dark alleyway, away from the spotlight and his hallucinations.

"Where is Sho-chan?" said a concerned Yumie. "It's dinner time."

"That kid," Shinyu scoffed, annoyed. "He went on a walk. I told him not to take too long."

Brr-ing. Yumie's phone buzzed on the table. What appeared on the screen was an icon of a young baby with the contact label "Sho-chan".

"Oh, he texted me," Yumie sighed with relief. "'Be home soon' he says. Not even a period."

"Well, kids are using less punctuation," Shinyu replied, almost appearing unbothered by Shoyu's absence. "I've seen it in some of my adult patients, too. He's a teenager, leave him be every once in a while."

Shoyu stumbled through the dimly lit alleyway, his breaths ragged and his heart pounding in his chest as he fumbled with his fingers on his phone screen. His mind was a mess of confusion and fear, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of information and sensations that were only worsened from his poorly-timed headache. He clutched his temples, trying to block out the voices and images that assaulted his senses.

"I'm losing it," Shoyu muttered to himself between breaths. "This isn't like me. I need to figure this out and control it."

"But I'm Quirkless. That's what the doctors said. But these thoughts, these... Quirk descriptions... they're not mine. They're not from me."

He tightly grabbed his chest, constricting the fabric and distorting the white text stitch that spoke "I am here" by the number one hero. He leaned against the brick wall, sliding down to sit on the ground. Looking at his palm, he finally felt the panicked emotions and agony in his head subside, allowing rational, logical thoughts to reintroduce themselves.

"...I can't let them know," Shoyu said to himself. "If this is a Quirk, I need to hide it. I can't risk them finding my family."

That was supposed to be the resolute goal of this story. Of Shoyu's story. But as fate changes, a person's story does too.

"Heeeeeelp! Where are the heroes?! Heeeeelp!"

The voice of a gentleman and his cries for help somewhere in Shoyu's vicinity allowed itself to be known to his eardrums.

And the headaches would force him to find that voice.