Dakka Hero deku
Hello folks and welcome to this fic, it may be long or it may be short, who knows how it will go!
This story is a crossover between Warhammer 40k, Warhammer Fantasy/AoS and My Hero Academia. Due to the nature of the Warhammer series this fic will be rated MA(18) and can be expected to contain violence, gore, swearing, torture scenes, sexual content and other themes not suitable for minors. If you do not like the idea of religious blasphemy then please do not read this either as I already got enough people complaining over the Darkest Hero fanfic.
Before we begin I will lay out which gods will be showing up, you get to vote on who the gods will be reincarnated as/becomes the quirk of, or if they'd even show up at all.
Khorne the blood god;
Nurgle the god of plagues;
Slaanesh god(des) or excess;
Tzeentch god of change;
Malal (Malice) god of contradiction;
Kaine the Eldar war god;
Isha the Eldar life goddess;
The great Bear, god of ice and wilds;
Yneed god of the dead;
Sigmar the god-king of humans;
The emperor of man;
The horned rat, god of Skaven;
The great Maw, god of ogres and hunger;
Gegorach god of slaughter and entertainment;
Lady of the lake, elf who became the patron goddess of brentonia
Omnisiah/void dragon C'tan, machine god;
Void bringer, C'tan of death;
Deceiver god of treachery and tricks;
Outside C'tan of the unknown;
Chapter 1; The End Times
The world was aflame. The moon which once held splendor in the sky above now fractured and scarred hurtled towards the planet itself. Lustria had been the first to be hit by the machinations set in motion by the mad Skaven inventor know as Ikit Claw in a insane bid to kill the lizard men and the Slaan. Now the once lush jungle was a smoking crater as the first of the debris hit the planet. Chaos, sensing the weakening of their rivals set forth a massive tide of demons into the world in a final push to secure the world before it's end. Nagash's black pyramid lay in ruin beneath a toxic green mushroom cloud, the fallout and shockwave of which was felt as far as Riekland. The great waaagh had reached its peak in the badlands, effigies of Gork and Mork springing to life as their gods took physical form in the world of mortals.
Sigmar's keep was under heavy siege by the forces of chaos, it's walls crumbling under the strain of constant bombardment of fell machinery and tainted armaments.
This was the fate of the realm of mortals in one universe, falling apart as the very world itself came crashing down upon those who inhabited it. There was no grand huzar or final stand, merely a blinding flash of light and searing heat as the moon which once controlled the tides of the ocean and the flow of magic through the very air itself impacted the planet's surface.
However in yet another world, seperated from the howling madness and magic of this one, laid another universe, one where there was no progress or hope among the stars, only the mewling laughter of thirsting gods and the perpetual truth that there is only war.
The last bastion of organic life was not Holy Terra like many of humanity had hoped it to be, no, the throne world and cradle of humanity had fallen centuries ago to the insatiable hunger of the Tyranids, the once gleaming beacon of mankind was nothing but a dessicated husk floating in a cold void. No, the final bastion of organic life was nestled away on some doomed world, nameless in officiality and tucked in the heart of the ghoul stars. Here the few remaining specs of non Tyranid life clung desperately to existence like a drowning man clinging to a wrecked ship as sharks circled the water.
The Necrotyr, having once more reclaimed organic forms due to the work of the Silent king had been among the first races to fall, caught off guard by disorganised troops being set upon by Tyranids coming from every direction. Then the T'au and their allies quickly followed suit, crushed under the untold trillions of bioforms that spewed forth from each hive ship that entered orbit, their remaining collective numbers barely in the millions. The Eldar and the Drukari are extinct, their species having been silenced when the Tyranids breached into the webway, nothing was left in those ancient pathways except signs of battle long since gone. The Votann had held out for a time, safe from the insatiable xenos in the core, but as with all things the Tyranids adapted and soon they too fell one by one defending their ancestor cores until they too were no more.
The Orks had probably held out the longest in the wider galaxy, a dream come true for them to have such bountiful targets to fire at and hack into, but even Orks get fatigued and thus they too fell. Their final stand in the wider galaxy had been on Armageddon, once Ullanor, the green tide had come from across the galaxy in a mighty Waaagh looking to avenge the death of Yarrick and slay his execution, the traitor primarch Angron. All they found were Tyranids enough to blot the very stars themselves.
Chaos was little more than a withered husk, their moral followers now all but gone in their zeil to destroy the all devouring swarm. The imperial for all their pomp and zeil had been overrun. It had started with systems like Baal and the northern segmentum going quiet, initially believed to be yet more problems caused by the great rift. That was until the rift was slammed shut and the full brunt of a hivemind was set loose upon their worlds. Planets fell by the dozens each day as they clung ever more desperate to what little territory they had left, then a broken vox signal was broadcast as the Sol system was engulfed in a golden blast visible from even Fenris.
"This is Sargent Grigori Nastallo of the imperial fists, I am the last of my brother's and I have not much time left. Terra has fallen. It is upto you now to avenge the Emperor's sacrifice for humanity. You will endure. Ave Imperator."
Humanity fought on with a fire not seen since the days of the great crusade, their thirst for vengeance driving them recklessly into the oncoming swarms. Soon there was hardly enough to fill a hive block left.
As the hive fleets closed in upon the final bastion of life hidden among the ghoul stars, a final act of defiance was wrought upon this cruel universe. A mere blip in the grand scale but the entire system was engulfed in the rolling waves of the warp as a dark age of technology reality bomb was detonated. The hive mind recoiled in pain as the north eastern section of the Milky way turned in on itself and vanished, destabilising the very core of the galaxy as it imploded on its own axis. A final "fuck you" to the Tyranids.
In yet a third world however, humanity had not yet reached further than Mars, their technology was simple and inefficient. This was a world of genetic powers and a age of heroes and villains. A world of hope. This was a world where humanity came in many shapes and sizes.
This was a world where the young mother Inko Midoriya laid in a hospital bed, exhausted but happy, her son cradled in her arms and wrapped in a pale yellow blanket.
"Hehe, he's got your freckles Hisashi." She chuckled weakly as she smiled at her firstborn son.
"Atleast he doesn't appear to have gotten my hair." Her husband replied shakily from his spot on the ground, a nurse trying to insert an IV.
"Hisashi your hair is wonderful." Inko replied with a roll of her eyes, her husband was too over dramatic for his own good and had actually managed to out-cry her which is why he feinted and the nurse was giving him an IV.
"But it's white and such a bird's nest." The man replied. "Even if he ends up with my hair type he'd atleast not look like an old man."
"Hisashi you ARE and old man." Inko replied with a fond sigh. "He's going to grow up and be such an angel."
"We'd end up spoiling him rotten. Is...is a henchmen too much for a first birthday gift?" Hisashi asked while blinking.
"Izuku's only a few hours old dear." Inko reminded him.
"Well yeah but, I need time to interview people, don't I? I just want everything to be perfect for him." Hisashi explained.
"If I may?" The nurse interrupted with a smile. "The Hissaikai Yakuza don has a service for that."
Inko blinked twice before a soft snort escaped her lips. "I keep forgetting Garaki runs this place." She muttered to herself before replying. "Of course dad would be willing to help, it's his grandson and he's the one who shotgun wedding'd Hisashi."
"For a quirkless man he's terrifying." Hisashi shuddered dramatically. Of all the hundreds of heroes he faced, all the wielders of his brother's stolen quirk he had killed, nothing scared him more than Hissaikai Izuku armed with a ancient colt action army did. A close second however was that old woman called Debbie Shirley, anyone who drove the now deceased Joker up the wall was someone to avoid... The only good thing he got from her was her parking spot and her eternal youth quirk.
"So, have you thought of a name yet?" The nurse asked as she stood up and hooked the IV bag into a metal stand.
"We agreed to name him after my father." Inko smiled softly at her sleeping son. "His name is Midoriya Izuku."
End.
Remember to vote.
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