CHAPTER 4
The scene stretched out before him like a hellish canvas, painted in hues of orange and crimson, streaked with soot-black outlines that danced maddeningly in the chaos. All Might, the paragon of courage and strength, staggered onto the battlefield, lungs laboring with each breath he drew. The oppressive heat of the inferno clawed at his chest, making each inhale feel like a struggle against an unseen terror.
Around him, chaos reigned. The flames roared and twisted like hungry monsters, a wild thing that devoured everything in its path. Even for the seasoned heroes who often stood resolute in the face of danger, this was a challenge that left them hesitant, caught between bravery and the sheer ferocity that the fire unleashed. Backdraft, a hero renowned for his hydromancy, stood at the edge with an expression of disbelief etched on his grim features; his water quirk—capable of dousing flames with a mere thought—seemed impotent against the relentless blaze that surged with wild, untamed fury.
Yet within that maelstrom of heat and destruction, a figure emerged, silhouetted against the inferno like a ghost taunting the living. The Sludge Villain. All Might's heart sank as he grappled with the sheer absurdity of the scene. How had he escaped from him? What twist of fate had led this wretched creature to this moment, amidst flames that roared like a dying beast? His mind raced to connect the dots, but fear and uncertainty clouded his judgment.
And there, suspended in that tenacity of despair, was Bakugo—gasping for breath. Bakugo fought to extricate himself from his oily captor. The sludge, thick and primordial, coiled around him, suffocating his potential and forcing him to unleash his quirk against the very heroes who sought to save him. His frustration simmered, bubbling beneath the surface as his sharp gaze flickered to the assembled heroes, each one standing as if rooted to the ground—paralyzed by indecision or fear.
If only he could have blasted that scumbag to oblivion* Bakugo thought, fists clenching and unclenching in a desperate rhythm of anger and hopelessness. Yet, in this moment where every second stretched like an eternity, he felt the sting of a new emotion—a feeling of vulnerability so foreign it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. The sensation gnawed at his pride, a sharp prick to the ego that screamed for retribution and control.
I'm useless* the thought reverberated within the confines of his mind. The once-untouchable, volatile explosion of bravado now flickered dimly in the face of overwhelming despair. Bakugo recalled the words he hurled at Deku in the heat of their rivalry—vicious, cruel words, "Take a swan dive off the roof and pray in your next life you get a quirk." They replayed like a cursed mantra, echoing through his mind. He had always believed he was merely toughening the kid up—teaching him resilience—but now, in his desperate grasp for freedom, he found only regret.
Was it too late for apologies?* He fought against the sludge's constricting hold, the visceral need to express something deeper choking him alongside the oily tendrils. Bakugo shook his head violently, as if he could dislodge the suffocating thoughts from his consciousness. *Focus! You are going to die!* The stakes reached unnerving heights; his mind screamed the urgent truth, warning against the perils of his previous arrogance and stubborn pride.
Meanwhile, All Might's eyes bore witness to the unfolding tragedy reminiscent of a shattered dream. He felt the same helplessness he had fought so fiercely against—one that had clawed at his heart when he stood, powerless, at the bedside of his mentor in her final moments. Unyieldingly, he clenched his fists, muscles taut with the tension of an imminent battle. He could see the helplessness reflected in Bakugo's eyes, the hopeless glance all too familiar and haunting, a particular brand of desperation that drove home the enormity of his own failure.
No, not again. Not under my watch.* All Might's resolve ignited like the very flames that raged around him. The weight of his title, "The Symbol of Peace," pressed heavily against his shoulders like a mantle long worn, but firmly anchored in the very essence of hope itself. He gritted his teeth until it felt like sparks would erupt, a tempest brewing in the depths of his soul; he refused to let history repeat itself. *I won't stand idle! I will not watch another child perish while I stand by and do nothing!*
With a surge of determination, monumental as the fire devouring all in its path, he transforms into his buff form and charged forward—gripped by the urge to save not just the kid, but to redeem himself in his own eyes. The conflagration roared violently, and the ground trembled as All Might's unwavering spirit clashed with the malevolent chaos surrounding him.
"In this moment, I must find my strength!" he bellowed, bolstered by the urgency of his own resolve. The flames twisted as if answering his call, their hunger momentarily quelled by the will of a hero who would not be deterred. But there was still a primal force at work—an understanding that brute strength alone wouldn't extinguish the flame of despair that clutched at the heart of their foe.
As that internal battle raged, another confrontation unfolded beyond the backdrop of heroism. Zeus, the god of thunder, watched with a certain smugness from a dimension unseen. *Well done, my boy, you've showcased more potential than we ever anticipated.* His voice echoed like distant thunder across the sky, where clouds beckoned with electric energy.
Izuku Midoriya—emotionally and physically drained—lay sprawled on the ground, limbs heavy and rebellious against the very thought of moving. He was a boy pushed to the brink, his muscles clenched in protest against the relentless trials he had faced. Sweat beaded on his brow as inhalation felt akin to lifting weights, as if every breath demanded currency extracted from his very willpower.
He hung in limbo between defeat and a burgeoning realization, caught in the chasm between aspiration and overwhelming challenge. "How do I get home and in which body?" he croaked, fighting to reclaim his voice from the throes of exhaustion.
"Oh, that's simple. Just think about where you were, and *puff, you're there," came Sinos' melodic voice, the embodiment of sunlit grace, lifting Izuku effortlessly off the ground. Instead of trembling under the weight of uncertainty, Izuku felt a rush of renewed vigor seep into his bones, stirring the dormant resolve that lay beneath the layers of fatigue.
"See you next week, lad!" Sinos trilled cheerfully before vanishing, as if floating away on a breeze of untarnished joy. A solitary flame of hope flickered in Izuku's heart—the promise of another chance. This world, with its intricate complexities, danced just beyond his grasp.
And then, with fierce determination, he envisioned the place he longed for; he concentrated on that familiar scene—the world of his own existence, where absurdity met villainy, and heroes were born and reforged through the fires of adversity. With a rush of exhilaration, he felt the fabric of reality weave around him, and in that blink of an eye, he became something more than flesh and bone—he became a will forged in resolve.
Meanwhile, back in the midst of chaos, the paramedics had become aware of the impending threat, distracted momentarily by the deafening explosion that rendered all sense of logic futile. In their haste, the gurneys and stretchers lay abandoned, as though they too recognized the futility of their purpose amidst the flames. And as the acrid scent of burnt sugar wafted through the air, an awakening stirred within Izuku that felt almost divine.
He bolted upright, propelled by a force beyond himself, borrowed from the very essence of heroism. It was extraordinary—akin to the resurrection of Jesus from his grave. *Is this what it feels like to rise anew?* Izuku thought, the sensation of lightness coursing through him. Gone was the agonizing weight of exhaustion; he felt reborn, muscles coiling with the spring of tenacity, ready to confront whatever darkness lay ahead.
All Might positioned himself to face the monstrous sludge with renewed vigor, hope and despair converged in an epic climax, weaving a tale of heroism against insurmountable odds. "Detroit SMASH." Allmight patented punch decimated the sludge villain, leaving behind the limb form of Bakugo. The crowd marveled at the display of power by their no.1 hero. Their symbol of peace.
A/N: Hey guys, this chapter four. So how did I do. Share your comments and ideas how u want this fic to turn out... see ya next time...