CHAPTER 5

Bakugo trudged home, the weight of the world pressing down on his slumped shoulders, his head bowed low in a deep haze of shame and disillusionment. Hints of twilight flickered around him like the remnants of a dying ember, a stark contrast to the fierce blaze of ambition that had once burned so brightly within him. Yet now, that fire felt extinguished, leaving him unmoored and utterly directionless. Just hours ago, Katsuki Bakugo, the brash hero wannabe whose dreams had soared higher than even All Might himself, had been effectively ground into the dirt. He felt utterly powerless, rendered so by a villain who had dismissed him as nothing more than a mere obstacle. The weight of failure pressed down upon him like a leaden blanket, a crushing realization that struck with the force of a runaway freight train, leaving a hollow ache in the pit of his stomach.


His mind spiraled through the traumatic events of his defeat when a familiar presence suddenly jolted him from his reverie. "Bakugo!" The voice rang out, deep and unwavering, yet tinged with an unnerving urgency that caught his attention. He looked up to find All Might standing before him, that iconic grin plastered across his face, radiating warmth and strength that had inspired so many. But something about him seemed off, more fragile somehow, as if the very essence of heroism was slipping through his fingers. Yet before he could fully register the change or voice his concerns, he doubled over. A tide of crimson suddenly spilled forth from his mouth, bathing his trembling hands in a warm, sticky liquid. With horror, he watched the muscular figure of his idol transform before his very eyes, losing its might and rapidly regressing into the frail, gaunt form that lay hidden beneath the facade of unyielding strength.

"What the actual hell is this?" he sputtered, confusion and anger wrestling for dominance within him, clawing at his insides. "Are you some kind of impostor?" His breath quickened, heart racing, caught between disbelief and a desperate need for answers.


All Might's voice was calm but layered with a gravity that reverberated deep within Bakugo's chest, grounding him amidst the chaos. "I'm not an imposter. I am All Might," he insisted softly, as if speaking to a child needing reassurance, conveying a sense of urgency that Bakugo had never experienced from his idol before. All Might began to explain the injuries that had laid him low, revealing the heartbreaking truth of his reality— the ticking clock of his waning power. "I can only maintain my hero form for three hours," he confessed, each word laced with the heavy burden of inevitability.

Bakugo's breath caught in his throat as he processed the profound weight of All Might's admission. The very fact that his revered hero had been hanging by a precarious thread against a formidable foe sent icy chills spiraling down his spine. He couldn't fathom why All Might would confide such sensitive information to him. Did this mean that he was hinting at something far more significant? Was he actually suggesting that Bakugo had been selected to carry the mantle forward, to step into shoes that were impossibly large?

"Why are you telling me all this?" Bakugo demanded, reeling from the implications and unable to suppress the sharp edge of his voice.


With a gulp, All Might sensed the challenge in the younger hero's demeanor and the weight of the moment. He pressed forward with solemn determination, "What do you know about my quirk?" As Bakugo searched his memory, he was struck by the enigma of All Might's power—a national treasure draped in mystery, an extraordinary force untouched by prying eyes. Despite the relentless media swarm attempting to dissect every facet of the heroic icon, no one truly understood how he could blend unparalleled superhuman strength with blinding speed and astonishing agility.

"I dunno," he muttered, irritation flickering within him, unable to conceal the frustration and confusion brewing just beneath the surface.

"Exactly," All Might nodded with a knowing look that seemed to penetrate Bakugo's very soul. "My quirk has been one of my most closely guarded secrets over the years. It is a crystallization of power passed down through generations—an accumulation of strength known as One For All. As the current bearer of this immense legacy, I believe you possess the potential to inherit this power, to embody the next Symbol of Peace that the world desperately needs."

His words hung in the thick air around them like a promise of destiny, yet they were accompanied by an undeniable shroud of doubt. The notion of bestowing such immense power felt both monumental and reckless at the same time. All Might had deliberated long and hard before arriving at this seemingly fateful decision, but unbeknownst to him, he would soon discover the precarious misjudgment he had made in selecting Bakugo as his successor.


Meanwhile, unbeknownst to either of them, a tempest brewed within Izuku Midoriya as he stewed in the shadows. A fire raged in the depths of his heart, fueled by helpless anger and a fervent desire for change. He had watched in utter frustration as his childhood companion and former tormentor was ensnared by the sludge villain, witnessing the so-called heroes scurrying like ants, futilely attempting to climb the ladder of glory while entirely ignoring the plight unfolding before them. Even All Might's grand entrance, so leisurely as he claimed the glory of salvation, only deepened Izuku's conviction that the hero society was nothing more than a pedestal for ego-driven fame seekers, a hollow facade for those who embraced true justice.


He felt a surge of rebellion rise within him, a fierce desire to dismantle the decaying structure of hero worship that had blinded the public to the undeniable truths lurking beneath the surface. But his resolve came at an incredibly heavy price; he knew that to instigate real change, he must tread a path shrouded in darkness—one that could easily label him a villain in the eyes of a naive world. To do so, he would need not just ambition but resources, allies willing to join his cause, and a reputation that would shake the very foundations of the corrupt system he sought to dismantle. The game was just beginning, and he was more than ready to get his hands dirty, regardless of the cost.


A/N: well this is what o got for you guys. Don't forget to comment and criticise my work. I need all the comments I could get.