Chapter Text
⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆
Act One
The Boy who fell
and the Tyrant King
⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆
Electric shocks coursed through his entire body, moving inside him like lightning. He could feel them in his blood, rushing swiftly and decisively towards his legs and fingertips. Each movement caused green lights to flicker around him, illuminating the darkness of the street. The rain-soaked concrete seemed to shine, and with every step, splashes of water flew upwards, dirtying his shoes and the pants of his costume. He pushed forward, faster and more determined, yet the figure ahead of him managed to dodge every attack, leaving him nervous and agitated, laughing with amusement at his countless failures.
Izuku was not a vengeful person nor someone who let his emotions take over, and yet that laughter kept echoing inside him, and the anger he felt grew exponentially. He wasn't accustomed to feeling anger, an emotion he hadn't experienced in years. He had never been an angry person; in fact, the happiness he could express even in the worst moments was a rarity, something people praised him for. Yet, in that alley, in that darkness, he could do nothing but feel it moving inside him, overshadowing the sensation of his quirk. That anger, the same he had felt only in the presence of another boy, back when their emotions were still linked by OFA, back when he could still feel him. He didn't know how to handle it, how to control it. On the contrary, it was as if the anger controlled him, his movements, making him frantic, impulsive, foolish.
He could barely see the villain in the pitch-black darkness, no matter how much his lightning bolts illuminated the air around him. It was as if the villain somehow merged with the shadows, hiding his face perfectly. The only thing Izuku had managed to perceive since the start of that endless battle were his eyes: green, cold, distant, dangerous. He was sure the villain was holding back his true strength, merely playing with him, reveling in his exhaustion and movements. No matter how many times Izuku struck him, how many times he kicked him, how many times the power of his quirk sent the villain flying back, or how often he increased the percentage of power he used, nothing seemed to work. It was as if the villain were immune, as if he had some kind of power that could block the strength of a millennia-old quirk like One for All.
Izuku couldn’t deny that this only made him more nervous, fueling the anger he had been feeling for a while. Each time he attacked and the villain managed to evade him, that sensation grew in his chest. Every time he tried to grab him and failed, something gnawed at him from the inside. Whenever the image of red eyes and blond hair formed in his mind, his heart skipped a beat, causing him to lose his balance. As he struggled to bring the villain down, he couldn’t help but think about what Kacchan would have done in his place, how long it would take him to get rid of the man, what catchphrase he would shout—perhaps “DIE” or “I HATE YOU.” Knowing Kacchan, the battle would have ended before it even began; he would have unleashed one of his explosions, and the villain would have fallen to the ground, helpless. All because Kacchan had no second thoughts, no qualms about hurting them, no half-measures: a villain was a villain, and nothing would ever change that.
Yet for Izuku it was different. Every time he fought, every time he used the power of his quirk, flashbacks of the battlefield filled his mind. The image of a young Tenko appeared in his memories, black eyes shining as they looked at him, a small hand gripping his tightly. Each time he fought, he wondered if, by reaching out, he might find another person to save, not from danger this time, but from themselves. Every time he fought, Ochako's words echoed within him: "If I'd known her when we were children, would things have been different?"
Every time he fought, he saw Kacchan. He saw his half-closed eyes lifted towards the sky, empty, lifeless. He saw his own body kneeling beside him after the battle, when everyone else was safe. He saw his hands trembling as he clutched the All Might figurine close to his chest, his eyes filling with tears at the memory of their childhood. He saw his hands gripping him, shaking him, hoping to wake him up.
He saw All Might's hands grabbing and pulling him away, holding him in a tight embrace. He saw the nightmares, the sleepless nights where he arrived in time, where he managed to reach him, to save him. Nights where, after the battle, he turned around and Kacchan was there, alive, injured, in bad shape, but alive.
Alive.
He didn't even notice the tears now threatening to stream down his cheeks—tears of sadness and frustration—as he launched himself forward once more, breaking through the air and striking the villain with a kick to the center of his chest. He finally managed to hit him and watched as the villain flew backwards, landing with a loud thud, rolling slightly against the concrete with a grunt of pain. Izuku felt a wave of relief wash over him, the anger inside him diminishing. His breathing was rapid as he rushed forward to immobilize the villain and prevent any counterattack.
Before he could reach him, the villain burst into laughter, his cackle echoing in the dark alley, his eyes lighting up, glowing a vivid dark green. Izuku froze in his tracks, standing still, listening in case the villain decided to lunge at him and use his quirk. He watched as he stood up, barely steadying himself, coughing what Izuku guessed was blood, but still chuckling, remaining rooted in his place. Izuku clenched his teeth, his whole body trembling with nervousness.
"I avoided usssing my quirk until now, y'know? I was having sssso much fun with you!" The villain's voice reached his ears, and Izuku's eyes widened. The words came as hisses, as if in that dense shadow there wasn't a human but some kind of serpent. If his theory was correct and beneath that voice was indeed such a form, then Izuku could explain the strange ability to dodge most of his blows and the glowing green eyes in the darkness of the night.
He didn't respond, merely watching the villain as he slowly moved his leg back, channeling the power of his quirk into that limb, ready to surge forward and strike. If he could land a strong enough kick to the villain's head to knock him out, he would finally end this long battle once and for all. Then, he could alert Aizawa about what had happened and take the villain to the nearest police station he found along the way.
He carefully analyzed the layout in front of him, noting the proximity of the alley’s right wall to the villain. With the right run-up, he could use it to his advantage, jumping and pushing off it to deliver a solid kick. He found himself thinking that Kacchan would have done the same, using the force of his explosions to propel himself forward and against the wall.
The explosions…
The moment his mind grasped the idea of using Kacchan’s quirk to his advantage, of using the only part of him left since he disappeared, he found himself paralyzed. His limbs seemed to freeze, as if some sedative had numbed his joints, rendering them useless. He could no longer feel his legs and gradually lost sensation in his arms. His eyes widened in shock as he searched for the cause of this reaction in his body, and only then did he notice the two small puncture marks on his arm. The villain had likely bitten him when he struck him earlier, and he, too lost in thoughts of red eyes, blond hair, Kacchans, and explosions, hadn’t noticed a thing.
How stupid. Stupid, stupid Deku.
He heard the villain chuckle and found himself lifting his eyes towards him, gritting his teeth, even his tongue began to go numb. He had to find another solution; he couldn’t stay immobilized and let himself be killed like this. He had overcome worse, and this was just another test for him, another challenge to face and overcome with a smile, certainly not something that could stop him.
If only he could reach the phone in his costume pocket and press the SOS button that UA had installed in their devices after the war, someone would surely come to save him. Aizawa-sensei had been right in his decision; the app was indeed convenient. The moment someone pressed the button, alarms would sound on the phones of all the heroes in the area. If anyone was nearby, they would rush over immediately and save him from this dire situation. However, Aizawa hadn't accounted for one crucial fact: he couldn’t press any buttons without the use of his hands.
Damn it, the situation was getting worse and worse wasn't it?
"Unfortunately, everything mussst come to an end! We mussst accept the end; only by accepting the end can we move towardsss a new horizon and ssstart our livesss anew, you know? You sssee, I have a gift for reading people. I’m very good at it; when I wasss young, everyone complimented me on my talent. It mussst be my inssstinct, you know, not sssomething everyone hasss, absssolutely not."
It was a monologue, of course—Izuku had expected it. It seemed like every villain wanted their own monologue, their moment to shine, to rant their frustration, to list the endless reasons why society had failed to save them, why they had become like that. Despite his efforts to ignore them, he always found himself listening, his heart refusing to turn away even from the most loathsome creature. Perhaps it was part of him, all that inherent kindness. Or maybe it was Tenko’s words that had changed him—the memory of his smile as he vanished, his final words, the hope in his voice.
Tenko wanted for them to change the world, that was his last wish, and how could Izuku just ignore that? Maybe he couldn't change the world in a day or a week but he could change it one step at a time and if listening to their long monologues would make a difference then Izuku would surely do it, even if he hated it.
"And you, you ssseem so sssad, you know? You carry sssuch a heavy burden on your chessst. I love the weight on the chessst; it feelsss ssso palpable, I can almost sssmell it—the ssscent of regret. You emit it from every pore. While you fight, you’re not truly here; you’re back on the battlefield. You’ve lossst sssomeone, I can tell. And you can’t move on."
Red eyes and blonde hair.
𝗜’𝗺 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘄.
Izuku found himself unable to support the weight of his own body; it was almost automatic, and he didn’t even feel it when his legs gave out and failed to hold him up. He should have expected it; after all, it was only a matter of time before he would be too paralyzed to move. Any idea of trying to grab his phone was now out of reach, no matter how many times he tried. He only felt the sensation of falling, the world spinning rapidly and swirling around him, his head slamming hard against the concrete, making his ears ring violently with pain. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the world spin for a long instant before it suddenly settled and stopped.
The villain had approached and was now looking down at him. Izuku could see him more clearly now, his skin was covered in scales, and yes, he was definitely a serpent—or at least his head was- the rest of his body was human, but his head was entirely animalistic. His eyes glowed green, and he had two prominent fangs, the rest of his face was merely a mouth with a sharp, flickering tongue.
"I’ve lossst sssomeone too, a long time ago. An hero failed to sssave them. They talk a lot about bravery, but you know what? They’re not brave at all! If that hero had the courage to enter that burning building, they’d ssstill be alive, and I… well, I wouldn’t be here hurting you. Maybe! Or maybe not; fate works in ssstrange waysss sssometimesss. Anyway, back to the point. Asss I said, only by accepting the end can we ssstart a new life! That’s why I accepted their death and changed my life, making it to this point! After all, I’ve defeated Izuku Midoriya. You are Izuku, aren’t you? The boy who won the war, who sssaved Japan! AH, isn’t fate amussing?"
Izuku continued to stare at him, unable to feel even the muscles in his face. It was as if he were floating, completely detached from his body. He could do nothing, completely helpless, alone in a dark alley. He couldn’t call for help, and no one knew he was there—how foolish he had been, so foolish. He couldn’t die like this; he just couldn’t.
The mere thought of being killed clenched his chest in a grip, making it difficult for him to breathe. Perhaps it was the paralysis, but he noticed that the air wouldn’t reach his lungs, and he found himself gasping, unable to breathe. He could feel his heart pounding violently in his ears as he looked up at the villain from below. The villain’s voice came through almost muffled as the darkness encroached upon his vision, making it hard to see. Was he fainting? Was this part of the poison? Was it stronger than a mere immobilizer, perhaps capable of killing him? What purpose would killing him serve for this villain? To prove something to himself? To society? To show that no one is truly immune, not even those who save the world?
Was this what Kacchan felt in his final moments? Fear, loneliness, insecurity?
He couldn’t die. What would be of One For All? What would All Might say… after everything they had done to stay alive, after all the sacrifices they had made, how could he simply leave like this?
"Oh oh! You’re hyperventilating, but don’t worry; it’s all part of the poissson! I don’t do it on purpossse—when I get agitated, I ussse too much and it becomesss hard to concentrate, it can even kill if it's too much y'know? Oopsss! I promissse I’ll be better next time! But that’s not the point. You’re probably wondering what I want from you. Well, it’s simple, very simple. I want to ssshow you another life. I want to ssshow you a sssociety where heroesss don’t exissst, another world. Oh, it’s ssso exciting! You thought this wasss my quirk, didn’t you? You were wrong, ssso ssso wrong!"
Izuku’s eyes widened in realization. He hadn’t even momentarily considered that the villain’s quirk could be something else. He had stupidly associated the poison with some sort of power, when poison was simply a fundamental trait of a serpent. If he was born with it, it was clearly part of him, something that didn’t depend on the development of a quirk, such as Hawks’ wings or Mirko’s rabbit legs. How foolish he had been not to realize something so basic. For someone who over analyzed everything, it was indeed a dumb mistake. A part of his mind told him that such a power could be useful for subduing dangerous villains and that in another reality, this villain might have been a good person. He might have lingered on such thoughts if it weren’t for the lack of air and the villain starting to move in a disorienting manner within Izuku’s vision, his form bending and stretching grotesquely.
"My quirk is to send people to parallel worlds. Interesting, isn’t it? Imagine how many things I could have done as a hero! But I really enjoy moving in the dark and showing people like you, Izuku, other realities—realities where you don’t have to be a hero and I’m not a villain, different worlds where things work in a different way. So fascinating, I’m thrilled. Who knows where you’ll end up, who you’ll meet, what you’ll do. One thing is certain…" The villain smirked, his eyes narrowing into mere slits. "You’ll never return to this world."
Izuku had just enough time to widen his eyes before he found himself falling.