Chapter Text
The crystalline walls of the Forgotten Cave sparkle and shine with a luster reserved for only the most precious of gemstones. Water occasionally drips in the background, adding a gentle symphony of comforting noise to supplement the already serene atmosphere. Tiny ripples branch out from where the droplets fall into the Pool of Eternity, where the Hero’s Blade silently awaits its Chosen wielder.
Nobody has been able to bypass the magical barrier surrounding the Forgotten Cave’s entrance for over three thousand years. No matter how strong, smart or even pure of heart those who’ve tried in the past may have been, none of them could so much as step foot into the resting place of the Hero’s birthright. In fact, so much time has passed by without anyone even laying eyes on the Blade that the knowledge of it had slowly withered away and died, leaving the Cave and its contents to gradually fade away into the obscure footnotes of history.
…Until today.
Izuku Midoriya, a young man of unassuming appearance and even more unassuming origins, stumbled across the Cave’s entryway earlier that afternoon after heeding the jumbled remains of dreams from the past few months. They’d started off as vague and meaningless, but had grown more and more defined as time went on. All too soon they’d begun leaving Izuku breathless when he awoke the following mornings, with beckoning bits and pieces of something that lingered on the edges of his consciousness.
The dreams had been trying to tell him something from the start, he just knew it.
The details were usually pretty hazy at best, but this time there was one thing in particular that remained clear in his mind once the sun eventually crested the horizon and woke him up.
Something Izuku had been waiting his entire life to hear from someone, anyone at all.
A voice that told him, with absolute conviction and startling faith…
“You can do it, you know.”
“Your dream, it’s waiting for you out there.”
“All you have to do is find it.”
“I know you can do it.”
“Climb the mountain, that’s where your destiny is waiting.”
And so, after a hastily constructed explanation to his mother about going out to gather herbs for a salve he was working on perfecting, Izuku scrambled out of the house and towards the forest.
Without knowing exactly where he was going, or even why, Izuku had made his way past the edge of his humble village with a fuzzy determination welling up inside his chest. His feet carried him up the neighboring mountain and led him directly to a cave mouth completely covered in ancient vines that must have taken an impossibly long time to grow so thickly. He hadn’t let the natural barricade stand in his way though. With a quiet apology to whatever spirits may be inhabiting the mountain, Izuku had carefully torn a path through the curtain of overgrowth and cautiously gone inside.
The rational part of his brain had been screaming at him then, telling him how stupid this all was. He didn’t have any weapons and he certainly didn’t know what was actually inside of the cave! All it would take was for a small group of Goblins or maybe even Were-Spiders to be nesting inside and he’d never see the light of day again!
And yet, he didn’t let that possibility stop him.
It’s only now, standing waist deep in a basin of water so clean and pure that it MUST be Divine in nature, that he understands just how right the voice in his dream really was. His destiny had been waiting for him all this time, such a relatively short distance away from where he’d spent his whole life thus far.
The weapon he’s seen in so many history books that it’s been practically burned into his eyes…
The Blade of Legend that he’s spent so many school plays watching childish imitations of cut down someone dressed as the horrible Demon Lord of Darkness…
That very same Symbol of Peace and Justice is sitting directly in front of him.
The greatest proof of a Hero’s worth is within his reach and his heart pounds at the mere thought.
It’s so… beautiful.
The blade itself is pristine silver, a flawless polish still clinging to the unknown material it was forged from so long ago. Light twinkles and reflects off of it the same way an Angel’s tears might as they fall in front of a welcoming sunset. The craftsmanship speaks volumes of skill long since lost to the mortal world and Izuku almost sheds a tear because it means that there will never be another weapon like it ever again.
The young, green haired man, no, the Chosen One takes a deep breath and then reaches out with one slightly shaking hand.
This is it-!
The moment where he’ll know for sure if the sensation he’s carried with him all his life, the silent suspicion that he’s destined for something more, for something greater than what everyone has always told him. His opportunity to prove them wrong, to show them that he’s not just some worthless runt without anything to be proud of!
All Izuku has to do is pull out the Blade from where it sits, pommel up in a stone at the noticeably shallow center of the Pool, and he’ll know.
After all, all of the legends say that only the Chosen Hero is capable of drawing forth the Blade from its resting place.
Izuku’s hands gingerly touch the Blade and a shiver of lightning anticipation runs throughout his whole body.
He tightens his hold, the sound of his worn gloves disturbingly loud in the otherwise silent Cave. It’s then that he pulls back, expecting at least some measure of resistance, but the Blade silently slides free from its stone prison without complaint.
Izuku comes dangerously close to falling backwards and into the Pool’s crisp water, but he manages to right himself at the last second. His emerald eyes grow wide and a disbelieving smile breaks out on his face, a ray of unstoppable sunshine after nearly 19 years of endless clouds and thunder.
I…
I did it…?
... ... ...
“…I DID IT!!!”
The slight weight of the Hero’s Blade in his hand acts as proof that this isn’t a dream or some kind of feverish hallucination. It’s real and he brings the holy weapon of legend up to his face, closely inspecting what will surely be the first step in his journey to become the world’s greatest Her-!
A massive puff of pink, rose smelling smoke explodes outwards from where the Blade previously sat, blinding Izuku and forcing him into a coughing fit.
What the-?
“Thank the Nine Hells, I was starting to worry that you’d never show up!”
There’s a strange woman suddenly standing in front of him now.
...Wait, no, scratch that.
There’s a strange, pink Demon with yellow horns, a spaded tail and bat-like wings suddenly hovering above the water in front of him now.
Izuku responds to this unforeseen turn of events in the most eloquent manner possible.
“...Eh?”
Stellar, truly impressive.
The Demon bows, giving Izuku an impressive view of her outfit. Or, in this case, an obvious lack thereof. Apparently, Demons find little wrong with only wearing enough midnight leather to cover the bare essentials, a fact that has Izuku furiously blushing as he looks down at the water at his waist to avoid openly ogling the succulent flesh currently jiggling before his still very much virgin eyes.
“I am known as Corosiae, one of the Great Generals of Darkness. It’s nice to finally meet you, my Lord!”
Izuku’s manners kick in before his brain has a chance to fully chew through the Demon’s words. His mother would be proud to know that even in the face of temptation and potential death, he’s still polite enough to properly respond to a girl’s introduction.
“N-nice to meet y-“
…Wait.
Wait, wait, wait wait, WAIT.
Did she just say she’s one of the Generals of Darkness? As in, one of THE Generals of Darkness? One of the four Demons that served directly under the horrifying Demon Lord and instilled a millennium of despair and misery across the entire planet? The same Demons that were supposedly strong enough to wipe out entire countries completely on their own? THOSE Generals of Darkness?! And hold up, did she just refer to him as the Demon Lord? The one who rallied together those very same Demon Generals and ushered in the aforementioned era of Darkness that people still tell stories about, even after nearly three thousand years?! He can’t be the Demon Lord, there’s just no way that’s true because he’s supposed to be a Hero, NOT THE DEMON LO-!!!
“My Lord, it’s sorta hard to understand you when you mumble like that.”
Suddenly the pink Demon is much too close and Izuku has to step back to avoid accidentally pressing his face into her, admittedly impressive, cleavage.
“W-wah!!!”
This time he actually DOES fall backwards, his arms flailing awkwardly with the Hero’s Blade still desperately clutched in one hand. Izuku soon finds himself fully soaked from head to toe and he has to wipe some of the water from his eyes before he can properly see again. He can actually feel the heat of his blush through the fabric of his gloves when the pink demon comes into view again, equally as close to him as before, if not somehow more so.
Corosiae gives Izuku a sickly sweet smile, inadvertently showcasing a mouth full of distressingly sharp teeth in the process.
“I'm beyond hyped for the destruction of humanity~! When can we get started, my Lord?!”
Her voice is sultry and soft, like crushed velvet that’s been dipped in honey and left out in the afternoon sun. It hints at things that most spend their entire lives dreaming about; things that Izuku can’t even begin to fathom why he suddenly wants and it’s far too too much for him to handle all at one time.
Corosiae, a self-proclaimed member of the Demon Lord’s Generals of Darkness, hovers directly in front of him, her wings lightly beating and her black and golden eyes glinting with something exciting and dangerous. She’s waiting for him to answer, probably for him to say how much he’s looking forwards to apparently slaughtering countless innocents in the glorious name of Darkness and Despair, but Izuku can’t really bring himself to do that at the moment.
Instead, Izuku passes out.
He does, however, manage to muster up one, final thought as his vision dims and his body fails him:
How am I going to explain this to mom?