Less Than Human (Prototype/My Hero Academia) (OC Villain Protagonist) (Anyone Can Die Warning)

[King of Terror]

Prologue:

Goto Imasuji, better known across Japan as the psychotic supervillain Muscular, panted in exertion and barely-disguised panic as he leapt across the rooftops of the ruined cityscape with all the speed and force his Quirk could muster, the massive "suit" of exposed muscle fibers that gave him his name screaming in protest as the 12,000 layers of super strong muscle fibers covering his body were pushed to their absolute limit.

Usually, Muscular would have enjoyed the pain. Would have relished the thought of facing someone who could give him such a challenge that his muscles burned and ached with every move he made.

Not now though.

Now, for the first time since he could remember, Goto was well and truly scared out of his demented mind.

Wanted nothing more than to be as far away from here as possible, even as he cursed himself for his weakness.

Because if that thing caught him… there would be no challenge.

No fun.

No glorious, heart-pumping battle where he and his opponent pitted their strength and wills against each other to see whose desire would ultimately come out on top.

He would just die.

Die… and become a part of that wretched Beast.

The sky rumbled, and Muscular fearfully glanced up for a brief moment as lightning flashed across the dark clouds before doubling his efforts to pick up the pace, ignoring the way his muscle fibers felt like they were about to rip like tissue paper from the strain.

But it was no use.

Even with the city flying by him in a blur, the villain could still feel that bastard watching him. That terrible Pressure bearing down on his very being was like the weight of the ocean itself, threatening to freeze him in place and crush the life out of him even as mustered every ounce of willpower he had to force himself to keep moving, though even he recognized that simply running with no clear destination in mind was a fruitless endeavour.

Lightning flashed again, and Goto cursed as a dark figure with hellish red eyes suddenly appeared on the building right in front of him, the blazing crimson orbs seeming to stare right through his soul even as the supervillain frantically dug his oversized fingers into the side of a nearby skyscraper he was passing by to halt his forward momentum before swinging around to plant his feet firmly on its side.

With a heavy burst, Muscular pushed off the ruined building with all his might, and the immense strength his Quirk afforded his legs immediately sent him rocketing forward at ludicrous speeds with a thunderous crash as the already wrecked skyscraper promptly shattered like glass in his wake, sending a massive cloud of dust and debris billowing in every direction.

Yet it was no use.

Goto could still feel those horrible red eyes burning a hole in the back of his skull even as he fled for his life, and every time he dared glance over his shoulder the supervillain would inevitably catch sight of an indecipherable black blur rapidly darting in and out of sight between the ruined buildings, effortlessly keeping pace with an almost leisurely air despite the breakneck speeds they were moving at.

Goto clenched his teeth so hard they almost cracked.

That bastard was toying with him.

That was the only possible explanation for why he was still alive.

Muscular had seen the Beast in action enough times during his dealings with the monster's cruel master, All For One, to know that if that rabid mutt was determined to see him dead and nothing else, he'd have been caught and torn to pieces mere seconds after the chase began.

Just like Moonfish…

Goto snarled at both the loss of the only person that was something like a friend to him and the very idea of being reduced to someone else's plaything, the abject rage and humiliation almost enough to make him turn around and hurl himself at the world's most infamous supervillain right then and there.

Here he was, one of the most feared villains in Japan, someone almost as strong as All Might for fuck's sake, and he was fleeing like a child from a shadow in his bedroom.

And yet, one look into the Beast's crimson gaze was all it took to immediately snap him back to cold hard reality as his newfound courage and bravado promptly vanished in the wind as quickly as it came.

Muscular was one tough son-of-a-bitch, but…

…people far stronger than him had already tried to slay that monster many times before… and it was still running free...

Goto grit his teeth again and took several deep breaths as his heart thundered in his chest with exertion.

This wasn't right.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go!

All For One's dog was supposed to be overseas keeping the other countries from sticking their noses into their business while he and the rest of the Villains tore down All Might's precious Hero Society and kept their eyes open for that green-haired brat.

A job Japan's Villains had taken to with undisguised glee, none more so than Muscular himself, barely stopping once the breakout occurred before rampaging across Japan's unguarded shores.

At last he had been free to fight, kill, and maim to his heart's content without having to worry about any pesky, self-righteous Heroes getting in his way, but now his perfect, bloodsoaked playground was disintegrating before his eye and he was running for his life like a fucking coward from an enemy he couldn't possibly hope to escape or defeat.

And just when he'd found someone he could enjoy killing people with too…

Goto whipped his head to the sky again as thunder roared once more.

He was gasping for air now, desperately trying to ignore the painful stitches in his barrel-like chest as his muscles begged for relief.

He was slowing down.

Sheer desperation and the glimpses of the Beast he was catching in the corner of his eye more and more were pretty much the only things keeping him going at this point, and soon even that wouldn't be enough.

And as that realization crossed Muscular's mind, the crazed supervillain couldn't help but wonder once again just why this was happening to him.

Goto always knew All For One was a greedy old bastard who couldn't keep his grubby little hands off other people's Quirks if his life depended on it, but he'd always thought the ancient villain at least had enough restraint not to go after useful assets, especially the mercenaries on his payroll.

He'd seen the sorry state the so-called "Symbol of Evil" was in after his last bout with All Might, and high-quality mercs like Muscular didn't grow on trees after all.

Not to mention that if word got out you were constantly killing and stealing the Quirks of everyone you hired, it would be bad for business no matter how powerful and feared you were.

He'd thought All For One had understood that, but apparently old potato head had finally let all his recent success go to that wrinkly, fucked up dome of his, and Goto cursed that arrogant fool and his four-eyed old toady for all he was worth.

He knew trying to collar a monster like the Beast was going to blow up in their faces eventually!

That's why Muscular had always kept the League of Villains at a professional arms length so he wouldn't be in the blast radius when the Hero Eater finally broke its chains.

But apparently that wasn't enough, and now the damn freak was determined to make anyone even remotely associated with All For One pay for its enslavement.

Goto would have applauded such excessive bloodlust if it wasn't currently directed squarely at him.

The villain scowled and furiously wracked his brain for a way out of his increasingly dire predicament, something he was usually loathe to do because it distracted him from killing everyone in sight or finding his next victim, but now found he had little choice if he wanted to make it out of this alive.

Most people who knew him would have laughed at the thought of Muscular of all people trying to strategize, but while he was no genius by any stretch of the imagination, neither was he a moron despite what his thuggish quirk and behavior would have you believe.

He could think and plan just fine, he just preferred it when he didn't have to. It was more fun that way.

But desperate times called for desperate measures, and the answer came to him in an instant when the musclebound psycho suddenly caught sight of something familiar out of the corner of his good eye, and a cruel, desperate grin promptly split his face when he turned his head to look at the building in question.

Ketsubutsu Academy High School, one of the two leading Hero Academies in the country and the longtime rival to the original reigning champ, UA High.

It'd been turned into a shelter for all those pathetic, ungrateful little sheep still braying for the Heroes to save them even as they cursed their names and spat on them for not stopping All For One and The Beast sooner.

As if they even could.

Goto and Moonfish had been thinking about paying the place a visit when his fellow Tartarus escapee had been suddenly and unceremoniously crushed to a pulp when the Beast dropped out of the sky on him like a missile before turning its attention to him. Now that second-place Hero School might just be exactly what he needed to get this damn freak off his tail.

So, with a new, desperate strength surging through his exhausted muscles, Muscular immediately altered course before rocketing towards Ketsubutsu High with all the speed he could muster.

That place was full of brats with strong Quirks and everyone knew the Beast had a taste for kids.

If he could just get there and use them as bait…

Goto's thoughts immediately ground to a screeching halt as the horrible Pressure bearing down on him suddenly seemed to increase tenfold, freezing his muscles in place and causing him to let out a choked gasp before using everything he had to look above him when lightning crashed and thunder roared once more.

It was there.

No longer behind him or constantly flitting at the edges of his vision, but right above him with fist drawn back and its hideous black wings flared menacingly ready to strike like a gruesome bird of prey as those terrible red eyes burned brighter than ever.

How did it get in front of-...?

That was the only thought that ran through Muscular's mind before he abandoned his muscle suit's humanoid form in favor of instinctively wrapping all his muscle fibers around himself as tightly as possible in a giant fleshy ball of blood red muscle that could stop most attacks cold.

The Beast struck.

And the sky above the city shattered.

…

There was no pain at first.

It was like Goto had been hit so fucking hard he'd actually left his own body while he soared uncontrollably through the air at blistering speeds, shattering building after building as he carved a deep trench straight through the ruined city.

It was only after he finally came to a stop lying in the fucking chasm his impromptu flight had created that Muscular finally seemed to return to his corporeal form…

…and felt the pain.

The villain thrashed and howled in utter agony as a white hot lance surged through his broken body, coughing up blood and further inflaming the multitude of shattered bones and deep cuts marring his previously imposing physique with his uncontrollable spasms while the torn and mutilated fibers of his muscle suit wildly flailed about in every direction.

Muscular tried to rise, knowing full well his time was short before the monster was on him again, only to immediately fall back down with another agonized roar, the pain so intense tears were freely flowing down his face as he forcefully craned his neck up to assess the extent of the damage.

It was just as bad as he feared.

His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle with shards of broken bone poking out, one of his legs had been crushed into uselessness, and every inch of his body was covered in ugly bruises and nasty-looking cuts.

That had been the strongest defense he could muster…

…and all it had taken was a single love tap from that fucking thing to reduce him to this!

Goto groaned as he tried to force himself to rise again.

Got to keep moving, he thought frantically to himself through gritted teeth as the sky rumbled more ominously than ever and his eyes rapidly darted around in panic for any sign of the Beast. I'm not going to die here! Not like this dammit!

And so, summoning every ounce of willpower he had left, Muscular called on his Quirk and forced his errant muscle fibers to wrap around his fallen form once again, placing particular focus on his ruined arm and leg.

Bracing himself with gritted teeth, the villain bit back a scream as the muscle fibers wrapped tightly around his wounded limbs, snapping them both back into place with a sickening *CRACK* as Gojo fashioned them into crude splints of muscle.

Breathing heavily in pain and exertion, the villain was nonetheless able to finally rise to his feet and begin limping down the cracked and broken road with all the speed his broken body could manage, the support of his muscle suit the only thing allowing him to move at all.

Muscular panted ceaselessly while he hobbled through the city, head constantly on a swivel as he focused all his mental energy on putting one step in front of the other.

Right step.

Left step.

Right step.

Left step.

Right step.

Left step.

Over and over again in an unending mantra as the villain desperately tried to escape the unbearable Pressure still pressing down on him and the horrible eyes he could still feel upon him, until…

"DAMMIT!"

…Goto promptly fell face first as a fresh shot of pain flew up his injured leg and it collapsed like jelly, sending yet more pain coursing through his body for good measure.

The villain didn't know how long he laid there in this pathetic heap, stewing in his own anger, pain, and humiliation, only that the Beast's gaze did not let up once, until at last the monster finally seemed to tire of this cruel game.

Groaning softly as he heard something land heavily in front of him, Muscular slowly lifted his head to glare hatefully at his oncoming death, and promptly found himself staring into the Gates of Hell as the Beast glared right back.

Forcing himself to his feet yet again, Goto was once more struck by just how damn scrawny and unassuming the monster's preferred form was. He had several inches on this damn thing and looked like he could break it in half without even using his Quirk for fuck's sake!

Looking at it from a glance you would never guess that the "man" standing before him was the most powerful and feared being on the planet.

But then, Muscular supposed that was the point.

More than one poor sap had been suckered in by that seemingly unimpressive physique only to swiftly regret that mistake later.

Not that there was any mistaking what the Beast was now, of course, what with the way its eyes blazed with crimson hellfire and how it positively radiated bestial power and murderous intent.

All aimed squarely at him.

Taking a deep breath, Muscular's trademark deranged, bloodthirsty grin appeared on his face and he let out a sadistic laugh as he readied himself for combat.

He might be about to die, but he was going to go out on his terms, dammit.

"So, finally got sick of playing with your food, mutt?" he taunted with his usual bravado as his grin widened at the way the Beast's eyes narrowed into burning red slits at the insult. "Aww, what's wrong little doggie? Did I strike a nerve? Is the feeling of All For One's leash around your neck still fresh?"

The monster's hands balled tightly into fists.

"That's why you're here, isn't it? To take my Quirk so you can use it to get back at your Master?" Goto pressed on with desperate eagerness, ecstatic at striking a successful blow at the one who had caused him so much pain at last as the monster lowered its head, finally hiding those fucking eyes from view, before screaming at the top of his lungs. "Well, FUCK YOU!"

Muscular laughed like a lunatic as fresh muscle fibers exploded out of his body and began enveloping his good arm, wrapping tighter and tighter around it until in its place was a colossal, grotesque facsimile of a limb writhing and pulsating with pure muscle.

The crazed villain hefted the titanic mass of muscle fibers to the sky proudly as he fashioned it into a crude fish ready to come crashing down on anything in its path with earth-shattering force, still cackling all the while.

"YOU CAN'T HAVE IT! YOU HEAR ME YOU BASTARD!?!" Goto roared at his still infuriatingly silent foe with a look of utter madness on his face, his deranged smile so painfully wide it was stretching the folds of his skin to the breaking point and exposing his leering rictus for all to see. "THIS IS MY QUIRK! MY STRENGTH! TO MURDER AND KILL WITH AS I PLEASE! NO ONE ELSE'S!"

Muscular lunged, putting all his pain and hatred into this strike as he roared his defiance to the heavens.

"NOW DIE!"

The giant fist descended, literal tons of impossibly powerful muscle screaming towards the Beast intent on squashing the sick freak flat once and for all…

…only to flop loosely to the street off to the side with a *THUD* that shook the ground, looking almost comical with blood spurting out of the massive limb as it twitched and thrashed a few times like an enormous, oversized snake before finally lying still on the cracked pavement.

Goto stared dumbly at the severed arm for several long seconds, mind and face totally blank as he desperately tried to process what had just happened…

…and then the pain hit.

"AHHHHHH!!!!!" he screamed in burning agony as he clutched the bleeding stump where his arm used to be and stared at the still-motionless monster with open-mouthed shock.

He never even saw it move…

Muscular's howls were then abruptly and violently cut off as a pale hand suddenly clamped around his throat in a grip of raw iron, and his eyes bulged out of his skull while he desperately gasped for air and futilely kicked at the Beast with his one good leg when it effortlessly hoisted him off the ground, head still bowed.

The monster didn't respond to his feeble blows as it kept him suspended in the air despite the noticeable height difference, and the villain was on the verge of blacking out when the Beast finally deigned to raise its head to look him in the eye again.

And when Goto Imasuji saw what was hiding under that hood, all he could do was scream until his already-bruised throat bled as his mind was shattered into a thousand pieces right before a monstrous pair of jaws closed around his head and silenced his screams forever.

***

Yo Shindo, better known as the burgeoning hero Grand and one of the finest third-years of the prestigious Ketsubutsu High, swore as he sprinted through ruined streets and vaulted over wrecked cars, concrete slabs, and various other debris.

I really need to think about getting a motorcycle or something from the Support Course, he thought bitterly to himself as he raced towards the disturbance that had sent everyone in the city into a panic a few minutes ago, not for the first time cursing Vibrate's lack of mobility options.

As cool as being able to create and direct earthquakes on demand was, not being able to get to where he could actually use them was admittedly a serious problem.

Especially when there was so much at stake.

The psychotic supervillain Muscular had been spotted not too long ago, leaping from building to building like a man possessed as he frantically tore through the city leaving it an even bigger mess than it already was in his wake.

The villain was infamous as one of All For One's top enforcers and for just how much of a violent, sadistic maniac he was, living solely to murder and kill as many Heroes and innocent people as he could get his hands on with a goddamn smile on his face, and he made absolutely no bones about that fact.

They had suspected that he and his accomplice, fellow serial killer and Tartarus escapee Moonfish, might be in the area, but all of them had desperately hoped the Intel had been wrong, for Muscular was as strong as he was psychotic, and the cannibalistic freak he hung around with was no slouch either.

Grand wasn't surprised though.

The young Hero had unfortunately gotten rather used to getting their hopes brutally crushed ever since the Beast first came onto the scene two years ago.

What he wasn't used to, though, was the entire city shaking like it was the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 as a massive shockwave suddenly tore the sky apart out of nowhere, shattering glass for miles in every direction and scaring the shit out of all the people taking shelter at Ketsubutsu High.

There weren't any serious injuries, thank God, but it would doubtlessly be one more thing for the civilians to blame on the badly depleted Heroes who were already stretched to the breaking point trying to protect them.

Jerks…

Yo had more important things to worry about than a bunch of ungrateful, entitled assholes calling him names and throwing trash at him right now, however.

Namely, the gigantic trench that had been carved straight through the city after the mysterious explosion, as if a comically oversized bulldozer had plowed right through it.

The trench they were currently racing through as fast as their legs could carry them.

"Wait up Yo!"

Grand glanced over his shoulder to where his partner and fellow third year, Tatami Nakagame, better known as Turtle Neck, was calling out to him with a concerned look on her normally pretty and perky face.

"We need to wait for the other Heroes to get here!" the curvaceous, athletic-looking girl protested, her spiky blonde hair whipping in the wind as she frantically scanned their surroundings with a nervous look in her pale blue eyes. "You know we're only supposed to be doing cleanup and search-and-rescue! If we go after a Villain like Muscular without any adults here Miss Joke will kill us!"

Yo grit his teeth with a mix of frustration and anxiety.

His classmate was right.

All the underage Heroes had been absolutely forbidden from doing anything combat related without an adult Hero present, and the only reason they had even been allowed out at all was because of the critical lack of manpower Japan's Heroes were currently suffering.

In spite of how desperate things had gotten, after the complete shitshow these last two years had been, the Pros had still been highly insistent on minimizing any underaged hero interaction in the field to ensure no injuries or casualties.

If they tried to fight a Villain like Muscular all by themselves Miss Joke would never trust either of them again. And that was assuming they even lived long enough for her to get the chance to chew them out.

Even still…

"We won't fight!" the muscular, black haired youth called over his shoulder to Tatami. "We'll monitor the situation and report what we see to the others but we won't engage until the adults get here!"

Turtle Neck bit her lip, clearly still uncertain about this compromise, causing a scowl to cross Grand's features.

"Come on Tatami!" he implored her between breaths as sweat dripped down his bare torso. "I know what Miss Joke said, but we're the closest ones available and this is too important to sit out! If Muscular gets away, think about how many more people he'll kill! This is our chance to take that maniac down for good!"

Tatami hesitated for a few seconds longer before her face finally firmed and she gave a sharp nod as she picked up the pace to match her partner, who gave a hearty laugh in response.

"That's the spirit Turtle Neck!" he crowed approvingly, earning himself an amused grin as he refocused on the huge but dissipating cloud of dust at the end of the trench that was rapidly drawing closer.

Won't be too much longer now, he thought seriously to himself, bracing himself for action as they closed in on their destination, only to come to a screeching halt when a bloodcurdling scream suddenly filled the air.

Both teens froze in shock as the voice, one likely belonging to a large man, Yo dimly noted, howled in utter fear and anguish before being abruptly cut off, and in the deafening silence that followed the two young Heroes slowly turned to stare at each other with wide eyes.

"What… what was that?" Turtle Neck whispered in a shaken and horrified voice as Grand blinked before a thunderous scowl crossed his face as he was shaken out of his stupor.

"That bastard must have found someone!" he shouted before charging into the dust cloud. "Come on!"

Tatami's face briefly paled before her expression hardened in turn and she charged in after him without hesitation, all thoughts of getting in trouble forgotten.

There was no way Miss Joke would ever disparage them for trying to save some poor soul from being murdered right in front of them.

"ALL RIGHT MUSCULAR! GET YOUR HANDS OFF…!" Grand roared at the top of his lungs as he burst out of the dust cloud ready for the fight of his life, only for his fearsome war cry to immediately turn into a choked gasp at what he saw.

It was a man.

A tall, scrawny-looking man of about 6 '2 clad in a simple pair of blue jeans and a black leather jacket with the hood currently pulled up, standing in the middle of the shattered street with his back turned to them.

The man didn't look like much at first glance, what with his average, unthreatening build and edgy looking clothes. If he didn't know any better, Yo would have pegged the hooded man as just another stereotypical street thug trying too hard to look cool or intimidating. Someone you likely wouldn't give a second glance and who could easily slip away in a crowd.

But the man's clothes and unimpressive build weren't what Grand was currently focused on.

Nor, surprisingly, was it the enormous mass of bloody muscle in the rough shape of an arm he was idly standing beside with a disturbing lack of interest.

No, what was currently demanding every last ounce of Yo's attention as the blood drained from his face and his heart hammered in his chest in sheer, utter terror, was the symbol etched on the back of the man's jacket.

A symbol everyone in the fucking world knew on sight…

…and feared more than Death itself.

https://www.reddit.com/media?url=ht...bp&s=5497526f6273ff99c61e2fbf5df31fbf2b175918

Red, deformed wings, gnarled and twisted like thorn roots that glowed and pulsed with an eerie bioluminescent glow, almost like they were alive.

The Mark of the Beast.

Which could only mean…

"No…"

Grand jumped in shock before slowly turning his head to behold his partner in midst of a full-blown panic attack, her skin just as pale, clammy, and sweat-soaked as his own as poor Turtle Neck shook like a leaf, her wide, glassy eyes fixed firmly on the hooded man with an unblinking, disbelieving stare.

"No no no…" Tatami muttered in a nearly inaudible whimper, seeming to be talking almost to herself as she shook her head in utter denial of what she was seeing. "That can't be the Beast. It can't be. It's supposed to be overseas, fighting the other countries, far far away from here. It can't have come back so soon. It… it must be an imposter! Yes, that's it! Just some punk playing dress up to earn himself some street cred! How stupid can you be!?!"

Turtle Neck let out a quiet, strangled laugh that sounded more like she was choking as Yo's mind numbly processed her increasingly nonsensical ramblings.

An imposter?

Not likely, as much as he dearly wished he could believe it.

Not even the most desperate, braindead thug would dare try to impersonate the Beast for a quick buck or a bit of street cred.

Even if the monster itself didn't rip them apart for their insolence, they'd be instantly torn to pieces by the legions of grieving Heroes and families the Beast had left in its wake the second they stepped outside wearing that particular getup.

Something even Tatami herself seemed to realize, if the way he could literally see the flickering light of Hope in her eyes dying as she came to the same conclusion he had was any indication.

They were about to die.

The Beast was already turning around to face them, having doubtlessly known they were there long before Grand barreled through the dust and announced their presence like a fucking idiot thanks to it's multitude of Detection and Sensory Quirks, and there was no way in hell he and Turtle Neck would be able to hold it off long enough for the other Heroes to arrive.

And even if they did…

…it wouldn't be enough.

It never was.

Yo shuddered as memories of countless sleepless nights and terrible nightmares brought about by those horrific, unending broadcasts and internet videos suddenly and abruptly flooded his mind.

Along with the screams.

So many screams…

"-another high-profile Pro snatched away in the night-"

"-Authorities still have not identified the Villain responsible for the recent string of disappearances or uncovered the meaning behind the mysterious Symbol at this time. All Might and the Hero Public Safety Commission are urging people to remain cal-..."

"-Tatooin Station was the sight of a bloody massacre today as the mysterious Hero Snatcher finally revealed himself…-"

"He ate them! He fucking ate them man!"

"Why aren't the Heroes doing anything!?!"

"Don't worry, All Might will save us!"

"-more Heroes tragically lost their lives today in a violent clash with the Hero Eater that leveled much of-..."

"-Hero Eater escapes authorities again as the HPSC declines to comment-..."

"-Mass Protests envelop Japan following the attack on-..."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP THIS!?! IT'S YOUR JOB TO PROTECT PEOPLE LIKE US! YOU PROMISED ME YOU'D KEEP MY SON SAFE!"

"How could they let this happen…?"

"Can we even trust them anymore?"

"-latest reports that Villain activity is spiking all across the country-"

"-NO MORE! From this day forward, I promise you all that I will not rest until that monster lies broken and beaten at my feet, and he pays for each and every one of his disgusting crimes, with interest! No matter what it takes, I will drive this darkness back into the abyss from whence it came, just like I did all those years ago! This I swear to you all as your Symbol of Peace! PLUS ULTRA!"

"He's not going down!"

"Oh god, they're dead! THEY'RE ALL DEAD!"

"DAMN YOU, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?!"

"I WON'T LET YOU HURT ANY MORE OF MY STUDENTS PARIAH!"

"All that for a drop of blood…"

"ALL MIGHT!!!!!!!"

Grand let out a panicked gasp at the relentless barrage of nightmarish memories currently assaulting him before he was suddenly snapped back to reality when a familiar hand suddenly grabbed his own in a tight reassuring grip.

He turned to see Tatami staring at him with a deeply worried expression. She looked just as shaken and disturbed as he felt, but apparently her concern for his wellbeing was overriding her fear.

Yo gave his partner a shaky smile in gratitude before taking a deep breath and turning back to glare at the dreaded Hero Eater with all the defiance he could muster.

Pariah was looking straight at them now, staring at the two young Heroes with a slightly quizzical tilt of the head. The monster's face was largely blank from what he could see under the shadows of its ever-present hood, but if he didn't know any better, Grand could have sworn he detected a slight flicker of surprise from the usually impassive Beast.

The realization immediately caused the muscular youth to scowl.

That bastard's fucking with our heads!

Letting out a vicious snarl, Yo immediately activated his Quirk and took several threatening steps forward, brandishing his loudly vibrating hands like guns as he furiously stared down world's most feared Villain.

"It's not going to work! You hear me, you bastard!?!" he roared his desperate defiance to the heavens as Pariah remained motionless. "I don't care how strong you are or how much you try to scare us! We won't run! We're Heroes! Real Heroes, not like those cowards that threw in the towel the second things got tough! And we won't let you scare us off anymore!"

"That's right!" his caring, ever-loyal partner declared wholeheartedly as Turtle Neck moved to stand beside him and took a fighting stance of her own. "Even if we die here today, we'll do it with our heads held high and a smile on our faces! Just like All Might!"

The Beast did not respond and merely continued to stare at them coolly, completely unmoved by the defiant boasts it had no doubt heard a million times before.

That's fine, Grand thought grimly to himself as he brought his hands up high in preparation to slam them into the ground with the strongest shockwave his Quirk could muster. We'll just have to prove we're not all talk the hard way.

Just before he could unleash his attack, however, Yo abruptly froze stiff when Pariah's eyes suddenly flashed a foreboding red and it finally deigned to open its mouth to speak.

"You're not Toshinori."

And that simple but profoundly foreboding statement was all the warning the two young Heroes got before they fell to their knees screaming in utter agony as a white hot spike of pain suddenly buried itself in both of their skulls.

Grand roared and howled as he furiously clawed at his shaggy black hair in a desperate attempt to relieve the unbearable migraine threatening to split his head open, even as his muscles seized up and his breath hitched in his chest at the terrible Pressure crushing down on him.

He was dimly aware of Tatami attempting to do the same beside him, but even as he struggled to make out her voice her tortured cries were getting fainter and fainter as the entire world seemed to fade away into an ominous red-and-black void until there was nothing but him…

…and the Beast.

Yo's desperate gasps for air grew all the more frantic as before his very eyes the monster's body seemed to ripple and distort like water, growing larger, taller, and more grotesque until all pretenses of humanity were cast aside in favor of a monster straight out of humanity's darkest nightmares.

Gone was the unassuming wannabe thug from before, and in his place stood a dark colossus wreathed in shadow whose body pulsed with red bioluminescence that towered over everything in sight as it glared down at the frozen hero with hellish crimson eyes.

Grand had heard many stories about just how utterly nightmarish Pariah's gaze could be, that only the strongest and bravest of Heroes could even hope to stand before the monster without instantly collapsing under the weight of its stare, but it was only now that he was being subjected to it himself that he truly understood what those survivors had been talking about.

There was no mercy or pity in those fiery red pits. Not even the slightest bit of humanity. Only a burning, insatiable Hunger constantly threatening to rage out of control at any moment and devour everything in its path without a shred of remorse. A Hunger being held barely in check by a cold, cruel, calculating intelligence that seemed to pierce right through Yo's very soul as it determined the best way to take him down and make him the Beast's next meal.

It was the gaze of a predator.

An Apex Predator that feared nothing, answered to no one, and was perfectly designed and adapted to hunt down its chosen prey with ruthless efficiency.

And it was keeping him here helplessly pinned in place with the same ease as an owl stalking a mouse right before swooping in for the kill.

Pariah lifted one massive, taloned foot and took single step forward with shocking silence for something so huge, producing only a single, soft *click* from the claws upon the pavement.

*click*

Yo struggled.

Tried with all his might to force his frozen muscles to move even as his heart hammered in his chest and his breathing grew ever more ragged.

*click*

But it was no use. Those damned eyes would not permit him to move from this spot even as his death drew ever closer, the wretched things almost seeming to widen and envelop the young hero ever more with every step the monster took.

*click*

The Beast's long reptilian tail swished lazily from side to side as it took another step.

*click*

Grand tried to speak. Tried to open his mouth to scream for help or hurl the vilest obscenities he knew at the Hero Eater. All that came out were choked gargles as his throat and lungs seized up.

*click*

It was almost here, Pariah's clawed hands flexing with anticipation for the coming kill.

*click*

The Beast was standing directly over him now, its massive body and enormous, twisted black wings blotting out all light save for its own bioluminescence as the monster's huge fang filled-maw, the only feature Yo could make out aside from its curved horns and all-encompassing crimson orbs, dripped with saliva and let out a hungry growl.

The boy closed his eyes, tears that had nothing to do with his skullcracking migraine freely streaming down his face as he awaited the fate that had befallen so many who called themselves Hero ever since this abomination first showed its ugly face what felt like a lifetime ago.

Mom… Dad… Miss Joke… everyone… I'm sorry… Grand apologized pitifully as he braced himself for the end…

…and then it was over.

The horrific migraine and terrible, choking Pressure holding him in place both released their grip on him with an abruptness that was almost comical, causing him to fall face first on the ground with a shocked yell as he frantically sucked in ragged lungfulls of air.

Beside him, Yo could hear Turtle Neck desperately doing the same as he looked around wildly the second he managed to finally catch his breath. The hellish, all-encompassing void that had enveloped them when Pariah caught them in whatever Quirk that was was gone, and they were both in the ruined city that was home to Ketsubutsu High once more.

Grand could honestly say he'd never been happier to see a bunch of wrecked, crumbling ruins in his entire life.

However, while the Beast's hold on them had thankfully been broken, the monster itself was nowhere to be found…

…until both teens heard the tell-tale crunch of shoes walking on broken asphalt right behind them.

Their pupils shrinking into pinpricks, Yo and Tatami both whirled around and scrambled away as fast as they could the second they caught sight of Pariah leisurely walking away, crouching like cornered animals when it paused and glanced over its shoulder.

The monster was wearing its human skin again, and its eye thankfully lacked that demonic red glow, but that didn't stop their hearts from trying to break out of their chests as both heroes stared at their tormentor with wide, unblinking gazes and took short, rapid breaths in terrified anticipation.

The Beast stared at them impassively for a few agonizing moments that seemed to stretch on for eternity until finally turning away and resuming its walk.

"Don't get in my way again."

Grand barely had time to process that statement before there was an indecipherable blur of motion and Pariah promptly vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the two shell-shocked students alone once more.

Yo didn't know how long he and Turtle Neck just stood there, staring dumbly at each other with blank, dull-eyed expressions before the weight of everything that just happened came crashing down on them.

They were alive.

They had faced down the worst, most terrible Villain the world had ever known, one that had killed scores of the best and most highly ranked Pros Hero Society had to offer and brought the entire world to its knees with its unstoppable Black Tide… and they had survived.

Grand's knees gave out as a wave of lightheaded dizziness overcame him and he plopped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and the dull *thud* beside him told him that his partner had done the same.

They both sat there completely dead to the world for a time, until…

"Grand? Turtle Neck?" a soft voice called out, and both teens turned robotically to see to see a young woman with a strong, athletic build and seafoam green hair wearing an unmistakable hero costume staring at them with visible confusion and concern, and a quick look around showed the duo that similar costumed figures were rapidly converging on their position.

"What happened, you two? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Emi Fukukado, the Smile Hero Miss Joke and teacher of Ketsubutsu High's Hero Course, asked them both with quiet urgency, none of her usual perkiness present as she eyed the huge, severed mass of muscle with a critical, practiced eye that belied her usual quirky antics. "Where's Muscular?"

Yo stared blankly at his haggard-looking teacher, idly noting the exhausted bags under her eyes and the worried frown on her face.

How long had it been since Miss Joke last lived up to her namesake?

How long had it been since he'd last seen his kind, cheerful teacher truly smile?

"Yo?" Emi questioned again, the concern in her voice growing as Grand was snapped out of his shell-shocked silence and shared a long, wary look with Tatami.

Swallowing thickly, he turned back to his teacher and finally found the strength to speak.

"Miss Fukukado… we need to tell you something…"

Author's Notes:

High everyone!

It's with great pride that I'd like to introduce my latest fic, Less Than Human.

This fic is very special to me for a number of reasons, not the least of which is because it's a crossover between a game series that I loved very much growing up that had a protagonist with one of the most interesting powersets I've ever seen, Prototype, and one of my favorite animes in recent memory, MHA.

But mostly, it's special to me because I've always wanted to do an OC-centered fic to really flex my creative muscles and I've been working very hard on this premise for literal years now, so finally getting to publish it after all this time is very exciting for me.

I also want to give a huge thanks to @Ld1449 for all the help he's given me on this fic over the last few years and for how much he's helped me improve as a writer.

And for just being very patient with me in general.

Also give a big shout out to WildJoker000 for his great editing work.

I never would have gotten this far without them.

I really hope you all enjoy it!

Just keep in mind that while I'm going to do my best to avoid turning this into a relentlessly edgy grimpderp Mary Sue wankfest, which is a big part of the reason refining this took so long, this is a Villain Protagonist fic with an OC with a very gruesome powerset highly reminiscent of John Carpenter's The Thing.

One that I've intentionally written to be a Deconstruction of the Isekai genre.

As such it is going to go to some pretty dark places at times (though nothing NSFW) and Anyone Can Die is in full effect here.

You've been warned.

Have fun!

 

[King of Terror]

Arrival 1.1:

I let out a sad sigh as I looked over the town of Chichibu, Japan from the roof of the building I was sitting on.

It was quite a sight.

Located in the Saitama Prefecture of the country just an hour-and-a-half away from Tokyo, the town had been a popular getaway for city-dwellers since the 19th century, and I could see why.

With its charming mix of painstakingly preserved, Edo-era architecture, temples, and shrines, seamlessly blending with more modern buildings, Chichibu was a beautiful mix of the old and new, allowing one to appreciate both all at once.

And that was nothing compared to the absolutely drop-dead gorgeous natural surroundings.

Nestled deep within the forested Okuchichibu Mountains and built around the Arakawa River that snaked its way through the town, Chichibu was a nature lover's paradise, perfect for hiking, camping, cycling, and kayaking while still being within easy reach of modern civilization.

Especially around this time of year near the end of spring, with all the leaves in the nearby Nakatsu Valley turning red and yellow along with the massive shibazakura fields in Hitsujiyama Park in full bloom, turning the ground into a carpet of pink, violet, and white.

All in all, this place was prime real-estate, and it wasn't hard to see why it was one of Japan's most popular tourist spots. Which has probably got you wondering why I was currently in such a melancholy mood.

After all, you would think I would consider myself beyond lucky to even be visiting such a beautiful place, let alone live here.

Well, several reasons.

First, I was homeless.

The building I was currently sitting on was a small homeless shelter run by a kindly old retired couple named Ichiwaka and Hamada Nobuko. I had nothing but the clothes on my back and was completely dependent on their generosity to stay off the streets, so that kind of put a damper on the picturesque location.

Like being a bum in Hawaii or the Bahamas.

Sure, the surroundings were nice, but that didn't change the fact you still had nothing to call your own.

Second, no matter how beautiful this place was, the fact of the matter is that I didn't belong here.

Admittedly, I wasn't entirely sure where I belonged, exactly.

My memory had been incredibly fuzzy and fragmented ever since I woke up in a back alley in Tokyo a few months ago, with no idea who I was or how I'd gotten there, but I was absolutely positive that I didn't belong in this place.

For starters, I most definitely was not Japanese, or even Asian, for that matter.

I was as obviously American as you could come, right down to my accent, my pale white skin, and the fact that I didn't understand a word of the local language.

Not to mention that my birthday, which is one of the few crystal clear memories I still had, was apparently over 200 years in the past according to every person and device I'd consulted on the current date. And just from looking in a mirror I was absolutely not 200 years old, hell I'm not sure I've even cleared 30 yet.

And finally…

"Hey John Doe! Breakfast is ready!" a female voice called out in thickly-accented English as I sighed in fond exasperation at both the cheeky nickname and what I knew was coming.

Hold that thought.

"Coming!" I called back to one of my fellow bums, a scruffy looking young woman with short, wild black hair and blue eyes in ratty clothes named Yamashita Mari, wearily as she looked at me with a teasing smirk.

Resigning myself to my fate, I got up, stretched, then leaped off the roof to silently land on the ground a few stories below with cat-like grace.

"Showoff," Yamashita said with an amused grin as we walked into the shelter and made our way to the dining area where several other homeless people of all shapes and sizes had already gathered, eager looks on their faces while they watched our hostess work.

Mrs. Nobuko was the spitting image of a stereotypical Japanese grandmother despite not actually having any children or grandchildren of her own, being a wizened Asian woman in her mid-60's of average height and build with streaks of grey running through her black hair tied in a neat bun.

Completing the image was the white cooking apron she wore over her traditional Japanese kimono and the beaming smile she had on her face as she looked at me and Yamashita with her warm brown eyes.

"Why hello there John Doe! Yamashita! You're both just in time, as always," our hostess said kindly before her pleasant demeanor suddenly morphed into a fierce scowl as she glared elsewhere in the shelter. "UNLIKE THE LAZY, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING LOUT I HAVE FOR A HUSBAND!"

We all winced at the bear-like roar the seemingly petite woman let out before the sound of muffled cursing reached my sensitive ears, swiftly followed by rapidly approaching footsteps.

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I'M HERE DAMMIT!" an elderly Japanese man around the same age as Mrs. Nobuko shouted in an annoyed tone as he rushed into the dining room, panting in exertion, before giving his fuming wife a reproachful glare from behind his square-lensed glasses. "Honestly, Ichiwaka, can't you cut me a little slack!?! I'm not as spry as I used to be!"

I let out a sigh as the old woman scoffed.

Honestly, after being married to her for so many years, Mr. Nobuko really should have known better by now. Especially since he used that excuse every other day.

I'd only been living at the shelter for a few months at this point and I'd already learned that when Mrs. Nobuko calls you to eat, you come.

Something my hostess apparently wholeheartedly agreed with, judging by the thoroughly unimpressed look she was giving the tall old man.

"Excuses, excuses, always excuses with you Hamada!" she snapped as she turned back to her work, still giving her husband a sideways glare as he sighed in annoyance and ran his hand through his black hair with visible grey streaks, and glared back defiantly. "I don't slave over a hot stove all day just for all my hard work to get cold by the time you finally decide to show up! Why can't you be more like the others here? None of them have ever shown up late after I corrected them the first time!"

We all gulped and held up our hands at the fond look Mrs. Nobuko shot at us and the annoyed one we received in turn from her husband.

"Please leave us out of this Mrs. Nobuko," I begged pitifully, desperate not to get caught up in another one of my host's marital spats as all the other residents quickly voiced similar sentiments behind me.

"Yes, please, leave the others out of this!" The old man agreed loudly as he crossed his arms over the striking black suit he was wearing and glared daggers at his wife, who huffed testily.

"Oh please, you're just jealous they all have better manners than you," the old woman shot back acidly as Mr. Nobuko's eyes bulged.

"WHAT WAS THAT YOU CRAZY OLD BAT!?!"

"DID I STUTTER YOU LAZY, GERIATIC OAF!?!"

We all sighed once again as I quickly lost track of the argument as it descended into rapid-fire Japanese that I still didn't have a hope of following at the moment.

I sucked at learning other languages.

I still had a vague recollection of barely scraping by with a C in Spanish back in High School, and that language was a cake walk compared to Japanese. Seriously, there were like five different types to learn and every word had like ten different meanings. How the hell did they remember all that?

Even after several months, my progress was still glacially slow despite everyone's best efforts, though I'd still learned enough to catch several words I was pretty sure you weren't supposed to use in front of guests.

"Guys, can we please just go ahead and eat already?" I interrupted the bickering old couple after letting this continue for a few moments, giving both of them a flat look as I crossed my arms. "Otherwise the food really will get cold by the time you two finish arguing."

Both Nobukos blushed and looked away in embarrassment as Yamashita desperately choked down a laugh while everyone else sported amused grins.

"Y-yes, of course. You're quite right John," Mr. Nobuko said with an awkward cough into his fist before giving me and the other residents a sheepish smile. "You'll all have to forgive a couple of cantankerous old goats."

Yamasita shrugged.

"Eh, we're all used to it by now Mr. Nobuko," she waved off airily as we all nodded before turning to the tables arranged neatly throughout the room. "Now, let us help get this set up…"

"Ah Ah Ah,Yamashita!" Mrs. Nobuko immediately cut in with a stern glare as the young woman hastily backed away from the tables. "How many times have I told you? You all are our guests, let us worry about things like that."

"Besides," she continued with a cocky smirk as she idly waved a hand, "It'll be faster if you let me handle it anyway."

At her gesture, the utensils, plates and cups filled with food and drink abruptly floated out of the kitchen and neatly arranged themselves on the tables, not a drop or crumb spilling as they settled into place.

"There we go! All set!" the old woman said happily with a satisfied smile on her face, before turning to me and her husband. "Well don't just stand there everybody! Dig in! Especially you John! I think today's the day I've finally found a meal that'll satisfy you!"

Mrs. Nobuko gestured again and all the chairs suddenly moved out invitingly of their own accord, and I let out a sigh as we all sat down, me far more reluctantly than the others.

…And finally, I was absolutely positive that where I'd come from didn't have honest-to-god superpowers in it.

Though before all that, I suppose some introductions and explanations are in order before we go any further.

My name is… not "John Doe".

Truth is, I still don't know what my name is exactly, but I'm sure it's definitely not "John Doe".

And I am pretty sure I'm currently stranded in Japan on an alternate Earth 200 years into the future.

An alternate Earth where honest-to-god superpowers have become a common accepted fact of everyday life.

Confused yet? Imagine how I felt.

Well, as it turns out, apparently the authors of a popular genre here called "Isekai" were onto something after all, because after what I think was a rather nasty car accident involving a drunk driver who I will curse until the day I die, I found myself waking up here instead of in a hospital.

Or a morgue.

But I'm getting a bit distracted. Anyway, about this crazy comic book world.

Apparently, the whole thing started when a glowing baby was born in China early in their version of the 21st century, and soon after children with superpowers, now dubbed "Quirks", started popping up all over the globe.

Nobody was ever able to figure out what caused the first Quirk-users to appear, only that their powers came from mutations in their genetic code and that said mutations would be passed down to their descendants, granting them Quirks of their own that steadily became more powerful and varied with each generation as powers continued to change and evolve, with seemingly no ability to extreme or unnatural to be off the table.

As you can imagine, this caused quite a bit of confusion and chaos in those early days as people and the World Governments struggled to adjust to the appearance of Quirks, to the point there was a period of total societal collapse called "The Dark Age of Quirks" before civilization finally managed to adapt to the fact that their world was a comic book now.

Nowadays, things have calmed down quite a bit, and the total number of Quirk users has risen to a whopping 80% of the population, over 5 billion people, and that number is rising rapidly.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who you ask, the vast majority of Quirks aren't anything super spectacular or especially suited for combat. Most of them are like the minor telekinesis Mrs. Nobuko had, or like Mr. Nobuko's Quirk which makes him really good with numbers.

Great for cooking, household chores, and helping the old man with his former job as a high-profile accountant, not so good for punching people's faces in.

Still, with literally billions of Quirk users around the world, you're inevitably going to get plenty of people that luck out and get Quirks that are legitimately powerful and dangerous. And with such a large number, there will also be plenty of people willing to abuse those Quirks for their own gain.

Thus came the rise of actual, real life Supervillains, with costumes and codenames and everything, and in turn, Superheroes attempting to combat them followed soon after.

In those early days, Heroes were mostly just vigilantes in homemade costumes attempting to fight back against the super-powered thugs ransacking their homes, much like in the comic books that no doubt inspired them.

Unfortunately, unlike in said comic books, their total lack of training and coordination meant those early Heroes more often than not just ended up getting themselves killed and making things worse, especially since society was already in the middle of a massive upheaval.

Fortunately for everyone involved, the proper authorities eventually stepped in once they finally managed to get their feet back under them, and nowadays Heroes are basically just super-powered cops that have to go through years of combat and law enforcement training before they can become properly registered.

Yeah, you need a license to be a Hero here like you do to drive a car.

Seriously, there are entire, specially made Hero Schools all over the world specifically designed to start training kids as young as 15 to eventually become registered "Pro Heroes".

They still kept the costumes and codenames for some reason though, but I guess deep down everyone still wants to live out their childhood fantasy of being Superman.

And much to my shock, I'd also acquired powers of my own upon arriving in this crazy world, and they weren't too shabby either.

I was incredibly strong, fast, agile, tough, could leap huge distances, had greatly enhanced senses, and could heal wounds at a rapid pace.

That last one I'd discovered when a thug shanked me in an alleyway back in Tokyo while I was still stumbling around in a daze trying to figure out what the hell was going on and why everyone was speaking Japanese all of a sudden. I'd watched dumbfounded as the wound immediately sealed itself shut when I'd pulled the huge knife out of my side like it was a splinter.

That had been almost as surprising as how the instinctive punch I'd thrown had cracked that thug's skull open and snapped his neck like a twig. I could still remember the sight of his brains splattered all over the pavement as he lay there motionless, head lolling on a boneless neck, like it was yesterday. Kind of a miracle I didn't puke my guts out right then.

Which led us to the third reason I was in such a foul mood.

Not only was I homeless and trapped in a crazy comic book world with little to no memory, I couldn't even go to the police or the Pro Heroes for help because I'd accidentally killed someone with powers I didn't even know I had at the time!

Also there was the little issue that using your powers without a license was kind of… illegal.

Luckily, nothing had come of it so far, but that didn't stop me from constantly looking over my shoulder, anxiously awaiting the day a bunch of Pros kicked down the shelter's door to drag me off to jail.

That was the entire reason I was here in Chichibu instead of still in Tokyo, having vacated the city as soon as I'd recovered from my shock to try and throw the authorities off my trail.

Part of me knew I was being stupid and paranoid.

That it was highly unlikely the police and Pros were going to spend a lot of time and effort tracking down the killer of one random petty crook when they had a million other superpowered nutjobs running around causing trouble they had to deal with.

But I was a stranger in a strange land and in a very precarious position right now, so I didn't want to take any chances.

See, I legally didn't exist here.

Like I said, I had nothing but the clothes on my back, which meant no phone, no wallet, no Driver's License or Passport, or anything else that could be used to identify me. Hell, even I couldn't identify myself, but somehow I doubt that was gonna hold up in court.

I'd spent hours at the local library with Yamashita trying to find something, anything about me using what little information I could remember, all to no avail. We'd even tried several Facial Recognition programs that had all turned up absolutely zilch.

Yamashita and the other shelter residents had all been absolutely flabbergasted, and their best guess as to what had happened to me was that I had been a victim of kidnapping and a Memory Altering Quirk of some kind, which apparently was a thing that happened from time to time even though it was quite rare.

As to why my face didn't come up, that could be explained with some face alteration Quirk. Another useful power people tended to employ in kidnappings. A fun little reminder of how vast, common and most importantly… scary Quirks were.

All of that made some degree of sense, even though I personally doubted it, because again I was absolutely positive my birthday at least was correct and that Quirks hadn't been a thing where I was from, and I was definitely sure I didn't have any superpowers before this whole mess started.

Not to mention that for the life of me I couldn't figure out what anyone in Japan would want with me, especially enough to not only kidnap me, change my face and erase my memories, but also go through the massive effort of painstakingly hunting down and erasing literally every bit of evidence that I had ever existed.

Only to then lose or dump me in some random alleyway in Tokyo after dragging my unconscious ass across an entire ocean?

Yeah, something didn't add up here. Okay, a lot of things didn't add up.

Something I'm sure the authorities would agree with.

Which is why I wasn't particularly eager to go to the cops and Pros for help despite the Nobuko's encouragement.

While I wasn't entirely certain on what the exact procedure for something like this was, I was pretty sure it would involve detaining me for an extended period of time, taking a very close look at me, and asking me a lot of very thorough questions, many of which I didn't have an answer for.

And considering the fact I'd already killed a man, which would not help my case if and when they ever found out about it even if it had been an accident, I naturally wasn't too keen on going through something like that.

Like I said, part of me knew I was being stupid and paranoid and that it probably would be better if I just went to the police already, but that nagging little fear in the back of my head about being thrown in jail for murder or manslaughter stopped me every time.

Killing someone wasn't just something that could be swept under the rug, after all.

Strangely though, I didn't really feel particularly bad about what happened, to be perfectly honest. Given that the guy had tried to kill me that kind of made sense, but something told me the authorities wouldn't see it that way.

So living off the grid at the shelter it was, for now at least.

The old couple had been disappointed at my stubborn insistence not to go to the police at first, but when I'd come up with the excuse I didn't want to because I and some friends of mine had had some "bad experiences" with cops, the Nobukos had surprisingly both given me sad, understanding looks and quietly dropped the matter after stealing glances at some of our more, ah, noticeable residents.

I'd felt a little bad when I realized the conclusion I'd inadvertently brought to them too when I mentioned friends in relation to the cops, but it kept them off my back for now, so I hadn't gone out of my way to correct them.

As depressing as it was, stuff like that was apparently all too common.

This might be a futuristic world of superhumans, but unfortunately, some things never changed…

All that aside though, living at the Nobukos' shelter wasn't that bad, all things considered.

It certainly wasn't a five-star resort by any means, but it was a clean, well-kept place where we all could rest our heads and get three straight meals a day, which was far more than a lot of people in our position could claim.

It even had a small recreation room we could watch TV and play board games in.

I wasn't particularly close to most of the other residents, given I didn't speak the language and wasn't exactly what one would call a people person to begin with, but I got along with them alright for the most part, and there was a small sense of community binding us all together, being fellow bums who'd all found a decent roof to put over our heads.

All in all, it was… cozy.

Yeah, that was it.

Cozy.

A nice, cozy place for people who were down on their luck and had been dealt a bad hand in life.

We all owe a lot to the Nobukos for giving us a place like this.

Which is a big part of the reason I was currently staring uncomfortably at my specially prepared breakfast while everyone else was already eagerly digging into their own meals and all eyeing me a little anxiously.

"Come on, John, try it. She's waiting," Yamashita whispered to me quietly as she elbowed me in the side and gestured to Mrs. Nobuko, who was trying very hard to look like she wasn't staring at me intently while she ate.

I glowered at the young woman before turning back to my untouched food.

This was the final reason for my current bad mood.

It wasn't that the food was bad or that Mrs. Nobuko was a bad cook.

Far from it.

The old woman had been an internationally renowned chef of Japanese Cuisine before her retirement thanks to her Quirk, which is how she met her husband when they had both been working overseas, and she was rightfully proud of her skills.

The problem was that a side-effect of my Quirk apparently included a rather drastic change in my dietary needs because of my altered biology.

Whereas before I probably would have happily wolfed down Mrs. Nobuko's lovingly and expertly prepared food without a second thought, now anything she cooked was as tasteless and disgusting to me as gruel, no matter how well-prepared, and did little to satisfy the gnawing hunger I'd felt ever since waking up in that alley.

And it wasn't just my hostess's food either.

Every cent of money I earned working at the shelter and doing various odd jobs around town was spent looking for something edible, and I frequented all manner of popular restaurants and food stands to finally ease my aching hunger, including many that served American-style food for tourists and even a few other foreign dishes like Chinese, Indian, French, Italian, even Russian.

And yet, no matter where I went or what I ate, it was always the same.

Disgusting, tasteless slop I had to force down by the truckload to even make a dent in my damnable ravenous appetite.

About the only thing I'd found that was even remotely tolerable was raw, uncooked meat, the fresher the better, but even that didn't truly satisfy me. It was a stop gap measure, something that I knew in my gut I could subsist on perhaps, but never truly thrive with.

And all the while, the Hunger remained.

At first, Mrs. Nobuko hadn't been too bothered by my inability to stomach her usual fare.

People whose Quirks gave them different dietary needs from regular humans were far from unheard of, and the old woman had dealt with many such cases in her younger years. But as time went on, her inability to find a meal that would truly make me happy became an ever-growing source of frustration for my hostess despite her best attempts to hide it for my sake.

Like I said, Mrs. Nobuko was quite proud of her skills, and being unable to properly feed a guest without just slapping a hunk of raw meat in front of them like they were some kind of dog was a grave insult to her pride as a chef.

Especially given how odd it was I was having this issue to begin with.

Apparently, most Quirks that caused altered dietary needs were Heteromorph or "Mutant"-type Quirks that drastically and very obviously altered the users biology, usually turning them into an animal hybrid of some kind, and as far as anyone could tell I was totally human.

Still, let it not be said that Ichiwaka Nobuko was a quitter.

Despite the increasingly hopeless looking prospects she'd stubbornly soldiered on, trying to find a meal that would finally satisfy me, as evidenced by the latest offering before me.

The Japanese traditionally had a preference for plant-based dishes, but once Mrs. Nobuko had figured out how revolting I found such things now that I was apparently a strict carnivore, she'd immediately thrown them to the wayside in favor of meat-based substitutes.

Instead of grilled fish for the main course, I had two pieces of expertly prepared rare steak.

Instead of the traditional Miso soup, the old woman had opted for a beef stew, the chunks of meat floating in the broth also rare.

And finally, in place of a bowl of steamed rice, there was a plate of sushi neatly laid out in two rows of sliced fish.

All in all, it was an excellently prepared meal that any normal meat-loving Hetermorph would have happily chowed down on without a second thought…

…but I still had my doubts, which is why I was currently just sitting there awkwardly staring at my food while my hostess looked at me expectantly.

Mr. and Mrs. Nobuko were extremely kind and generous hosts that treated us all like the children they'd never had, and we did everything we possibly could to return the favor, assisting them in all manner of household chores and physical labor that was becoming increasingly difficult for the aging couple.

Unfortunately, my gratitude for my host's kindness also meant that I was loathe to keep disappointing the old woman like this, so meal times were practically torture for me, not helped by the fact everyone in the room was staring at me and doing a poor job of hiding it. It'd practically become a daily event for everyone and the only reason no one was taking bets was because… well no one had any money.

Still, I knew that outright refusing to eat would hurt and insult my hostess far more than just not liking her food, so with a resigned sigh I picked up my chopsticks to face the music, still struggling not to fumble with them.

I swear, whatever sadistic bastard that invented these damn things did so purely to mock people who used perfectly good silverware as a bunch of pussies.

Still, I eventually managed to hold onto a piece of meat without dropping it long enough to get it into my mouth, and everyone watched with bated breath while I chewed and desperately tried to keep a straight face at the taste.

It was… better than Mrs. Nobuko's previous efforts.

At the very least, it didn't immediately make me want to spit it back out again.

But… it still wasn't very good.

Nevertheless, I pushed forward, slowly eating the meal piece by unappetizing piece, stubbornly fighting to keep a straight face as I did so, until at last the torture was over and I plastered a big smile on my face as I set my chopsticks down and looked at my stone-faced hostess.

"That was much better than last time Mrs. Nobuko!" I said cheerfully, sticking to the technical truth as I desperately fought to hide my discomfort and everyone winced as I failed miserably. "Thank you! I think you've finally found a meal I can stand."

The old woman stared at me flatly for a long while as I fidgeted uncontrollably under her piercing gaze, before letting out a sad sigh as she got up from her seat.

"Stand, perhaps," she replied dejectedly as she walked over to the cooler and pulled out a plate with a huge piece of raw, bloody meat on it. "But not enjoy."

My shoulders slumped as Mrs. Nobuko set the plate in front of me and quietly returned to her own breakfast.

"Sorry Mrs. Nobuko," I said morosely as I picked up the meat and Yamashita and several other residents all shot me sympathetic looks. "I just… didn't want to hurt your feelings again. It really was better than the last few times."

My hostess grunted.

"It's quite alright John. I told you, I'm not going to fall to pieces over you not liking my food. Especially since you can't help it," she assured me in a stiff voice that had everyone wincing again before eyeing me reproachfully. "I just wish you wouldn't lie to me about this. Honest feedback is the only way a cook can improve, after all."

Mr. Nobuko frowned at my shamefaced expression as he looked up from his own meal.

"Now, now, don't be too hard on the boy Ichiwaka," he interjected with a reassuring look at me. "It's only natural a good guest would want to make his hostess happy, after all."

The old woman's face softened as several of my fellow bums quietly voiced their agreement and I shot them all a grateful look before I began digging into the meat, biting off big chunks with my teeth and quivering slightly at the strange wriggling sensation I felt inside me whenever I swallowed something now for some reason after my transformation.

The meat was by far the most tolerable thing I could eat, though it still wasn't exactly what I would call a satisfying meal.

If normal food was like trying to force down a disgusting bowl of gruel or slop, this was more akin to eating stale bread. Yeah, you could chew and swallow it just fine, but it still tasted bland and off, and wasn't really something you would seek out unless you were really hungry and had no other options.

Nevertheless, it was still something I could eat without feeling like I wanted to vomit afterwards, so I ate without complaint as I chatted with my hosts and Yamashita about more pleasant topics and let out a happy little sigh as I felt my Hunger abate slightly.

"So what's on the Agenda for today guys? Anything you need help with?" I asked in a more cheerful tone once we'd all finished eating and most of the other residents cleared out as Mr. Nobuko hummed in thought.

"Actually, we do need a few things picked up from the city, if you don't mind," he replied as he pulled out a list and exchanged a mischievous look with his wife when my face fell.

"In the city?" I asked with dread, the two old farts before me looking about ready to burst into laughter at my crestfallen expression. "Are you… sure that's not something you two can handle yourselves Mr. Nobuko? I'd be happy to do some other chores for you."

"Now, now, John," Mrs. Nobuko chided gently as she gathered all the dishes up in her telekinesis and made her way to the sink, still wearing that shit-eating grin. "You know you need to get out more. How else are you going to learn our language and how to fit in if you don't go out and interact with our people?"

"And besides," the old man added cheekily with a smirk at my sulking expression as he held out the list for me to take, "Maybe you'll make some friends along the way. A boy your age should have more people to talk to and hang out with than a couple of cranky old bats like us."

"I mean, I hang out with Yamashita and the others here… sometimes…" I countered lamely, before letting out a defeated sigh at the flat look my hosts gave me.

"Fine," I grumbled as the two old bastards grinned in triumph, before my demeanor suddenly brightened as a thought occurred to me. "Although, this would be a perfect opportunity to try and beat my previous record. I've been looking for an opportunity to cut loose without the cops breathing down my neck."

Both Nobukos let out half-exasperated, half-amused sighs at my giddy tone.

Ever since I'd discovered my powers and the existence of Quirks, I'd naturally sought to learn as much about them as I could, and much to my delight, I'd found out that Quirks apparently functioned a lot like muscles and could be built up and strengthened over time with constant use.

Furthermore, I'd also discovered through my research that a side-effect of Quirks apparently allowed the humans of this world to gain incredible speed, strength, and physical fortitude through exercise and training alone regardless of what their actual Quirk did. And since I already have far greater strength, speed and the like, just imagine what I could accomplish with actual practice.

Ever since then, I'd been consumed with a relentless, almost single-minded drive to test my new abilities and see just how hard I could push myself.

Which was kind of odd, given the rather, ahem, pronounced gut I'd had when I'd first woken up indicated that I'd been something of a couch potato before all this started.

I mean, granted, I'm pretty sure anyone in my position would be eager to try out their new powers to see what they could do, but even with that in mind, the sheer rush of adrenaline I felt whenever I pushed myself to my limits, and the pure, unadulterated bliss and satisfaction that surged through me everytime I broke those limits was… euphoric. Even…

Intoxicating.

Like there was no challenge I couldn't eventually grow past and overcome.

It was one of the few things that made me truly happy nowadays.

And it certainly helped that I improved so quickly too.

Everytime I pushed myself to the limit I could feel myself get a little bit stronger, a little bit faster, and a little bit tougher than I was before, in a very real, tangible way.

As evidenced by my current lack of a gut.

I wasn't able push myself nearly as hard or as often as I would have liked due to Japan having very strict laws regarding how one could use their Quirks outside of home, but even after just a few months of moderate on-and-off again exercise I'd already burned off any and all excess flab. By the time I was done, I'd looked like I'd gone through an entire year's worth of intense physical conditioning.

So if this errand would give me the chance to improve myself further and feel that wonderful rush of satisfaction again, then I'd gladly take the risk of going back to the city.

"Alright, alright John," Mrs. Nobuko said indulgently, snapping me out of my musings, before her expression grew slightly more stern. "Just make sure you keep any Quirk usage out of the city or town. As nice as it is to see how much you love exercise and keeping in shape, the last thing we need is for you to have any run-ins with the police."

My face sobered at that and I gave my hostess a firm nod.

She was right, after everything they'd done for me, the last thing I wanted was to bring trouble to the Nobukos doorstep.

"Ok, Mrs. Nobuko. I promise, no Quirks in the city," I promised sincerely, getting a couple of satisfied smiles and nods in turn.

"Good boy. Well, off you go then, and make sure you use Japanese as much as possible. You seriously need the practice," Mr. Nobuko replied as he airily waved me off, and I eagerly rushed out of the kitchen to grab my new phone and sports watch from my room, the chuckles of my hosts resonating in my ears.

***

I grunted as I performed a few warm-up stretches, the road to Tokyo way off to my side.

I was outside the town limits now, just close enough to the road to use it as a guide but far enough away there was no chance of me possibly interfering with traffic.

Tokyo was roughly 55 miles away give or take, and the last time I'd made this run I'd managed to get there in about 15 minutes.

This time, I was aiming to cut that down to at least 12.

Stretches complete, I got into a runners position and pressed a button on my watch to begin the Countdown.

3..

2..

1..

Now.

The earth beneath my feet cracked as I kicked off it like a rocket, my feet tearing small divots in the ground and my body trailing an odd red haze as I rapidly accelerated to my full speed, and a savage grin split my face at the familiar sensation.

No matter how many times I experienced it, I never got tired of the sheer freedom moving so fast made me feel.

The sound of the wind roaring in my ears.

The way I effortlessly outpaced the cars on the road in the distance as the countryside zoomed by.

How I was somehow able to stop and turn on a dime even at max speed as I bobbed, weaved, and vaulted over trees, rocks, and various other obstacles in my path, my enhanced reflexes and coordination making it seem like I'd been doing parkour for years.

And, of course, we couldn't forget the best part.

Still grinning like a mad man, I leaned forward, knees bent in preparation before I jumped into the air, unable to stop myself from letting out a whoop of joy as my superhuman leg muscles propelled me higher and higher into the sky until I was many stories off the ground.

Tucking my arms and legs in to make myself as aerodynamic as possible, I angled myself back towards the earth at the apex of my jump, and the wind howled in my ears as I plummeted headfirst back to the ground in a blazing streak of crimson haze.

Instead of splattering on impact like a bug on a windshield, however, my legs easily absorbed the shock as I slammed back into the ground like a missile, the earth cracking beneath my feet, and I immediately took off running again the second I touched back down.

Good.

But I could do better.

Letting out a grunt of exertion, I felt my muscles strain in protest as I pushed myself to speed up even more, stubbornly ignoring the burning sensation in my legs in favor of focusing solely on avoiding crashing into the oncoming obstacles that were hurting towards me much faster now so I wouldn't lose any momentum, before once again launching myself into the air.

Higher and higher I soared, eclipsing the plateau of my previous jump, before I once again dropped back down to the ground and resumed running.

Over and over again the cycle repeated. Sprint, Leap, Sprint, Leap, eating up distance at a ludicrous pace, until at last a large dot loomed in the distance, rapidly getting closer.

Almost there.

Ignoring my aching, burning muscles, I pushed harder than ever before, my manic grin still in place despite my body screaming in protest as I blazed towards the finish line until, at last, I came to a screeching halt in front of my marker, a generic You are now entering Tokyo sign, and hit the button on my watch.

Taking several long, deep breaths, I quickly got my heart rate back under control and smiled as the burning aches and pains I'd been feeling rapidly faded away, before finally looking at my watch to see how I did.

My face lit up at what I saw and I did a little fist pump in celebration before I began making my way into the city proper at a far more sedate pace.

11 minutes on the dot.

A whole minute more than my goal.

Yep, this errand was definitely worth it.

***

Maybe that extra minute wasn't worth it after all, I grumbled to myself a few hours later as I walked out of a store with the last item on this list and tactfully ignored the giggles and odd looks I was getting from the other patrons.

In fairness, I suppose I couldn't blame them.

I probably would have chuckled at some foreign guy making an idiot out of himself trying to get the clerk to understand him with his broken Japanese and terrible charades before finally giving up and getting one of the employees to translate for him too.

Seriously, wasn't English supposed to be like a second language in this country? Why'd it seem like I always ended up where nobody even spoke basic English.

Regardless, I had everything I needed now, which means I was no longer under any obligation to talk to anyone until I got back home.

Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Nobuko.

Letting out another embarrassed sigh, I quietly began walking to the city limits, idly hoping that maybe I'd be able to shave even more time off my record on the way back.

As I walked, I couldn't help but once again silently marvel at the various sights and sounds that made up a modern Metropolis.

The towering buildings, the busy, crowded streets and sidewalks filled to the brim with noisy people and cars all hurrying about their day, and the colorful, flashing signs, jumbotrons, and store fronts all loudly advertising some product or another, it could all be quite overwhelming to the uninitiated.

And while I couldn't say for certain, I was pretty sure I hadn't been a city boy given the lush, rural town of Chichibu seemed far more familiar to me than the bustling metropolis of Tokyo. Yet despite that, and my lingering anxiety about being back in Tokyo, being in the city surprisingly didn't make me feel like I was out of my element.

Far from it.

Indeed, the dark alleyways, high-rise buildings overlooking the streets below, and the way I could easily fade into a crowd to become just another faceless bystander was oddly… comforting to me.

Navigating the dense, claustrophobic urban environment felt incredibly easy and natural for some reason, the same way going deep into the woods off the beaten trails had a way of making me feel at ease despite the Nobukos warnings and the fact the foliage got so thick you could hardly see your hand in front of your face.

Especially at night, though again, oddly enough that was the time I actually enjoyed being deep in the forest the most.

Maybe because I had really good night vision?

Regardless, despite how comfortable the city environment me feel, I hadn't forgotten that this is the place I'd gotten a knife jammed in my side by a thug looking to make a quick buck, so I made sure to keep my head down and move as silently and unobtrusively as possible, keeping my inhumanly sharp eyes and ears open all the while.

Especially since the quickest way to reach my destination outside of Tokyo required me to move through one of the older, more dilapidated areas of the city.

The cops and Heroes didn't patrol here as often and it showed.

The buildings were decidedly seedier looking, the pedestrians were constantly looking over their shoulders as they moved with haste, and there was a noticeable amount of street toughs, many of them rough-looking Heteromorphs, loitering around.

Fortunately, like I said, I was rather good at moving around inconspicuously, and none of the thugs spared me more than a glance as I silently walked by.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for others, as evidenced by some faint but rather suspicious noises my cat-like hearing suddenly picked up coming from deep inside a foreboding-looking alleyway on the other side of the street.

I paused for a moment, a frown on my face as I debated with myself on what to do before curiosity finally won out and I cautiously made my way to the alleyway, the noises becoming clearer and even more disturbing as I crept closer to the entrance.

My frown deepening, I surreptitiously set down my bags behind a nearby pile of garbage before entering the alley, silent as a ghost as I approached an upcoming corner.

Peering around the side, I quietly cursed to myself at what I saw.

It was a scene right out of a typical crime drama or pre-Quirk superhero flick.

A small gang of thugs, four in total, were accosting a terrified young woman, her face marred with cuts and bruises as she tearfully begged for mercy.

The thugs were all more rough looking Heteromorphs, all dressed in tattered, worn-out clothing, likely homeless or on the cusp of it like me.

There was one guy that had a black-ant head in place of a normal human one, his massive pincers clicking together angrily as he shouted vulgar Japanese at the scared girl cowering before them.

Another thug standing behind him was a huge, musclebound, red-skinned ogre, cracking his knuckles menacingly, his mouth, sporting four prominent fangs, twisted into an ugly sneer.

The third crook, this one the only female of the group, was a woman with brown hair and another inhuman head sporting huge pincers like Antman, though hers was more spider-like.

Rounding out the group was the apparent leader, a short, deformed man with a bald, elongated head, a wide set of teeth, and eyes spaced outward connected by stalks.

That wasn't what I was most focused on, however.

No, what I was most concerned with were the huge, four-fingered metallic claws the head thug had for hands.

The things were enormous, each claw more akin to the blade of a short-sword than anything else, and Eyestalks was putting that fact to good use as he brandished them threateningly at the woman.

Shaking my head at the sudden spike of fear I felt, I moved back around the corner and furiously wracked my brain as I tried to figure out what to do.

Under normal circumstances, I would have just called the police and booked it before they had a chance to question me, but with my broken Japanese there was no way that was going to work.

The Nobukos might work, but by the time I called them to explain the situation so they could call the police in my stead, the thugs would probably have finished with the woman and be long gone.

Especially since this place wasn't usually frequented by the police that much to begin with.

Which left only one option…

I sighed in exasperation, unable to believe I was considering this.

My powers might be strong, but I was still no trained fighter or Pro, and those thugs all had powers as well, of which I could only speculate as to what they were. What's more, even if I did win, like I said before Japan had very strict laws on Quirk-usage and Pro Heroes here tended to take a rather dim view of vigilantism.

And I really didn't need the authorities taking a close look at me.

Still, I couldn't just sit back and do nothing, and I had been waiting for an opportunity to test out my strength as much as my speed, so…

I sighed again before my face suddenly firmed, becoming cold and stoic as my demeanor abruptly shifted and a red tinge fell over my vision.

Peering back around the corner, I assessed my unsuspecting opponents and considered my options.

Eyestalks was undoubtedly the most dangerous of the four with those enormous claws of his.

There was no doubt those things could do some serious damage in close quarters, they each made the knife I'd been stabbed with before look positively puny by comparison, and he had eight of them, four for each hand. And I bet he could swing them with enough force to sever a limb or two.

Even worse, he was the closest to the woman and the others were forming a loose circle behind him.

There was no way I would be able to get close enough to take him out without being seen or hurting the girl.

Fortunately, the ogre, who was most likely the second most dangerous of the group, was the furthest away from the woman and standing slightly back from Antman and Spiderface.

If I could take him out before the others noticed, not only would I deprive the thugs of one of their strongest fighters but the shock might give me enough of an opening to press the attack on the other three before they could regain their wits.

I'd only get one shot though, so I'd have to make it count.

My eyes drifted upwards to look at the rooftop overlooking the criminals behind the ogre.

That could work.

Plan in place I lightly leapt up and kicked off the walls as quietly as possible to avoid alerting the thugs, bouncing back and forth between them until I was on top of the building I'd been leaning against.

I leapt again, soaring over the oblivious crooks and their victim to land as quiet as a cat on the roof behind the ogre, and looked down at my target from my new vantage point.

Now or never.

Bending my knees, I jumped one last time, soaring high into the air before angling my body down like a missile as I screamed towards the ogre in a blur of red haze, my fist cocked back.

*BOOM*

I struck with titanic force, the sounds of bones and concrete breaking echoing out through the alley in a thunderous crash as the other thugs and the woman all cried out in shock and fear and were thrown off their feet by the shockwave of the impact.

I stared down at the unconscious, mangled mess that not a second before had been an intimidating ogre for a moment, idly ignoring the blood splattered all over me, the ground, and the walls of the alley, before I slowly looked up at his stunned comrades still lying scattered on the floor, and they all blanched at my gaze as the red tint deepened.

So did the woman, though I'm not sure why.

Still, that wasn't my biggest concern right now.

My biggest concern was the fact that Eyestalks had landed right beside the girl, and judging by his rapidly changing expression, was quickly getting over his shock at my sudden appearance.

Time seemed to slow as my eyes narrowed at him and I tensed in preparation.

Had to get him away from her or he might use her as a hostage.

I kicked off the ground, the concrete beneath my feet shattering even more as I rushed towards Eyestalks as fast as I could.

His eyes widened at the frightening display of speed and he desperately attempted to raise his massive claws up and bring them to bear to intercept me.

Too slow.

I grabbed him, using my great strength to keep his arms pinned in place as he futilely struggled in my iron grip before hurling him away from the still paralyzed woman, sending him bouncing across the pavement to crash painfully into a nearby wall.

"Run!" I shouted at her in Japanese, my voice a guttural growl and that strange red tint deepening once again, and she nodded frantically before bolting past me and the dazed Eyestalks, speeding out of the alley without so much as a backwards glance.

Good, that took care of the potential hostage.

Hearing an enraged shout, I turned to see Antman charging at me like a feral animal, pure fury in his compound eyes as he leapt at me with his massive pinchers open wide, the organic scissors ready to cut my head clean off with one swift movement.

Just before the deadly pincers could close around my neck, however, I caught both scissors in my hands, ignoring the way they cut slightly into my palms as Antman frantically struggled to free himself, ineffectually flailing at me with his fists while his inner mouth shouted a long string of what I'm sure were creative profanities at me.

But I merely continued to glare at him coldly before, with one swift, sharp movement, I snapped both pincers clean off, and as Antman stumbled back screaming in agony, I quickly stepped forward and followed up with a swift headbutt.

The thug collapsed like a sack of bricks with a sickening crunch, a nasty looking liquid oozing from the crack I'd made in his exoskeleton.

Spiderface hissed angrily at me before hurling a nearby trash can in my direction, immediately following it up with a charge of her own as she hoped to close the distance while I was distracted with the impromptu missile.

Thinking quickly, I nimbly sidestepped the trashcan before returning fire, throwing the broken pincers in my hands like darts, and Spiderface yelped as she frantically dodged the first pincer with inches to spare.

She wasn't so lucky with the second one though, which managed to clip her in the side, and as she stumbled forward and hissed in pain at the blood leaking out of the small cut, I seized the opportunity to rush forward and deliver a brutal kick straight to her sternum.

Another sickening crunch rang out and Spiderface screamed in pain as my kick sent her flying before she came to an abrupt stop when she crashed into a nearby wall.

She moaned and rolled on the ground in agony as she clutched her chest, and I stared at the injured criminal with an expressionless face for a few moments before the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps caught my attention.

Turning around, my eyes narrowed and my body tensed as a furious Eyestalks charged at me with his claws held high.

He slashed at me wildly, the huge blades gleaming wickedly and tearing through everything in Eyestalk's path as he frantically tried to skewer me while I just as frantically bobbed and weaved out of the way, leaving deep gouges in the stone walls and metal dumpsters.

Thankfully, while I was no trained martial artist, it quickly became apparent that neither was the thug in front of me, and my natural speed, agility, and coordination gave me a hefty advantage in dodging his clumsy, uncoordinated slashes.

Time to end this.

Quickly seizing an opening when Eyestalks overextended himself with a particularly heavy blow, I grabbed hold of his left arm and brought my elbow crashing down on the extended limb.

I was absolutely certain that my technique was utter shit given I was literally copying this move from something I'd seen on TV, but thankfully my raw strength compensated for my poor fighting skills and the thugs arm promptly snapped like a twig with a hideous crack.

Eyestalks howled in pain as all the blood promptly drained from his face, which quickly turned into a strangled choking noise as I clamped my hand around his throat like a vice, lifted him up, and slammed him against a nearby wall, making sure to use my other hand to keep his good arm restrained.

The thug kicked feeble at me, tears in his eyes and blubbering something in Japanese as my own orbs bored into his, that red tinge deepening again as I leaned in close and opened my mouth to try my best at saying something threatening that he could understand…

…only to immediately freeze in place as my nostrils inadvertently flared and caught the thugs scent.

Now, you would think a sweaty, dirty thug wearing ratty clothes in a filthy, rundown alley, likely pissing himself in terror and pain probably wouldn't smell very good.

And you'd be right.

This guy was absolutely covered in sweat, grime, blood from his wounded arm, and probably hadn't properly bathed in days.

But despite all that, underneath all the filth and fresh piss, there was something… delightful.

Amazing.

I leaned in again, taking several long, deep sniffs, much to Eyestalks confusion and terror, and my mouth started to water as I did my best to ignore and filter out the repugnant odors to drink in the mysterious, wonderful scent beneath them.

It was incredible.

It was glorious.

It was the most pleasant, intoxicating thing I'd ever smelled.

It was… him.

Eyestalks, the man currently being held helplessly in my grip.

Him… and his warm, freshly spilled blood.

They both smelled so… so…

Appetizing.

The second that realization crossed my mind, I immediately snapped out of my trance and pulled back, a confused frown on my face.

Where the hell did that come from?

Why did this guy smell so good to me?

Why was my mouth watering?

And… why did this seem so familiar to me?

So natural?

I groaned as I released Eyestalks arm to put my hand to my head, a splitting migraine suddenly coming on as the torrent of questions assaulted my mind.

What's going on? I thought to myself in confusion, my mental voice seeming distant as I growled and shook my head in an effort to clear out the rapidly forming cobwebs. Why do I… feel like this all of a sudden…?

I shook my head one more time as the migraine seemed to spike in intensity, only to abruptly clear as a fiery new pain suddenly erupted in my gut.

*SNIKT*

"AHHHH!"

I screamed bloody murder at the burning agony as I looked down to see the thug grinning savagely at me, his massive claws buried deep in my midsection.

The bastard had taken advantage of my distraction to run me clean through with those oversized claws of his, and I felt my Hunger spike and my vision turn red again as I glared murderously at Eyestalks.

I roughly shoved him away from me, hissing in pain as his claws were torn free in a splatter of blood as the thug was sent sprawling.

He quickly scrambled to his feet though, a smug grin on his face as he watched my hunched over form, hand on my gut trying to staunch the bleeding.

A smug grin that quickly turned to confusion when I didn't bleed out and fall over like he'd no doubt been expecting after doing the same thing to other poor victims, then shock and horror when I removed my hand to inspect the wound.

My new Healing Factor had saved me yet again.

The blood was already clotting and the hole was rapidly sealing itself shut, until in mere seconds every trace of the massive wound was gone.

It still hurt like a bitch though.

And made me Hungry.

So. Hungry.

My nostrils flared again, and the red tinting my vision deepened until the entire world was bathed in a dark shade of crimson as I once again caught the scent of the thug who had hurt me.

That wonderful, delectable scent…

FOOD.

I glared viciously at the petrified thug, a deep, guttural growl building in my chest as he rapidly backed away, before finally, the dam broke and I roared.

It was a hideous, deafening, animal-like sound.

A terrifying, inhuman screech that no human vocal cords should have ever been capable of producing.

And as the last of Eyestalk's nerves failed him and he sprinted away screaming like a madman, his desperate flight immediately triggered some deep, primal instinct in me.

PREY.

I roared again before the pavement shattered under my feet as I launched myself after the fleeing thug in a blur of red haze, catching up to him and tackling him to the ground before he got more than a few steps.

Ignoring what were no doubt his desperate pleas for mercy, I straddled Eyestalks before I began brutally beating him into pulp, punching as hard and fast as I could, snarling and roaring all the while.

And when the last of the thugs' feeble struggles finally ceased, something truly unexpected and horrifying happened.

My entire torso suddenly and violently opened up like a grotesque flower as innumerable hideous black tendrils erupted from my body like a horde of giant worms, thrashing and wriggling about wildly before they hungrily, almost desperately reaching out to Eyestalk's corpse…

…and began to Feed.

I watched with mute fascination as the tendrils greedily devoured the dead thug utterly, sparing not even a drop of blood or a scrap of cloth as they quickly and efficiently broke down the corpse into more wriggling black biomass, before finally pulling the revolting blob that had once been a human being into my body which promptly closed back up as if nothing had happened, leaving me whole and human-looking once more.

The entire process took scant seconds to complete, yet the entire time my mind had been almost totally as I felt neither pain nor horror at watching those disgusting Feeder Tendrils bursting from my body to messily consume the man I'd just killed.

Instead, all I felt was… was…

Relief.

Satisfaction.

Pure, unadulterated Bliss as, for the first time since I'd woken up in this crazy world, I finally tasted a meal that truly satisfied me and made that damnable Hunger noticeably abate. It was honestly hard to put into words just what I was feeling in that moment.

That filthy, disgusting little thug was the single most delicious and filling thing I'd ever tasted, and eating something so appetizing after months of having to force down what might as well have been prison slop and stale bread was like suddenly being served a 5-star meal tailored specifically for me after almost starving to death.

I couldn't help but moan in pleasure as a small but pleasant, pulsating ball of warmth formed in my chest, an odd but comforting feeling that somehow instinctively assured me that everything would be alright.

So long as I didn't let that warmth fade away, that is.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and I was abruptly snapped out of my happy musings when yet another series of confused feelings and images abruptly assaulted me.

Anger and Humiliation as a bunch of young children relentlessly picked on me and other unfortunate Heteromorph children, lording their own "cool" Quirks over us all the while.

A small amount of Happiness and Comfort as my wonderful Mom gave me a tired smile while preparing our meager dinner with her bladed hands, always trying to put on a strong front despite her deformed appearance and our unfortunate circumstances.

Sadistic Pleasure as I and the only other friends I'd ever known taught a terrified Normie a lesson for daring to intrude on our turf.

And finally, pure, overwhelming FEAR, TERROR, and PAIN as the Beast wearing human skin savagely tore me apart and devoured me alive, its horrible crimson eyes blazing with maddened hunger.

Unlike the first set of memories, however, none of these new ones felt even remotely familiar to me.

Instead, they all felt… muted somehow.

Detached. As though there were playing on a projector.

Yet, despite that, I was still able to very clearly recognize my own face, twisted into a demonic snarl as I violently ripped myself to pieces from a first-person view.

And that image, more than anything, was what snapped me out of my stupor, and I immediately shot to my feet and stumbled back in shock as the full gravity of what I'd just done slammed into me like a ton of bricks.

I'd… I'd just eaten a man.

Eaten him alive and screaming after violently ripping ripping him to pieces like a feral animal.

And I'd enjoyed it.

I'd enjoyed it more than anything I'd ever done in this world until now.

Even the rush of adrenaline and satisfaction I felt every time I successfully broke my limits couldn't compare to how wonderful that meal had been.

And what's more, I somehow knew everything about the thug I'd just devoured.

Koyama Yoshito, a small-time crook who called himself Sickle Claw that fell in with one of the local Heteromorph gangs after a rough childhood being bullied and abused for his appearance. His entire life from his very first memories right up to his recent death at my hands was an open book to me now. At least two decades worth of information, all accessible in that single instance.

Everything from his likes, dislikes, most repressed memories, innermost turmoils, and several things I did not need to know about a man were revealed before me in explicit detail.

And yet, despite the horrific act I'd just committed and the intimate knowledge of my victim I'd somehow gained, the worst part of all this was how I felt… absolutely nothing.

No guilt or shame at the murder I'd just committed despite the fact Sickle Claws was a violent, unrepentant gangster who'd already done his own fair share of killings with those claws of his.

No horror or disgust at the fact I'd just brutally eaten another human being alive in a blood-crazed, Hunger-fueled frenzy.

No fear or worry that I might snap and do it again when my Hunger inevitably returned.

No… anything.

Nothing but confusion at why this had happened, why it had felt so good, so natural, and why I wasn't feeling any of these things when I knew I should be.

I wasn't an unfeeling psychopath, I certainly cared enough to try and save that girl a few minutes prior, and I was almost positive I hadn't been a cannibalistic murderer before my arrival here on this world. By all accounts I should be in a state of catatonic shock, puking my guts out all over the pavement.

And yet, as I stood there, despite my best efforts, I still couldn't manage to muster up anything other than surprise and bewilderment at what had just happened.

And that scared me.

"Monster…"

I was abruptly snapped out of my musings by the whimpering voice as I turned to look back at Spiderface-Igarashi Aimi-who was leaning against a wall some distance away, shaking life a leaf and still clutching her broken chest.

I'd completely forgotten she was there…

"Monster…" she said again, tears in her eyes, and my own orbs narrowed as I idly noted with some shock I could understand her perfectly despite the fact she was still speaking Japanese.

She'd seen the whole thing…

"Monster…" Igarashi repeated a third time like a broken record as she started backing away with slow, deliberate steps, her wide, unblinking eyes glued to my utterly impassive features.

She could be a threat…

"MONSTER!" she screamed one last time in utter hysterics before bolting from the alley as fast as she could, hacking and coughing up a storm all the way, and I growled and my vision became tinted with red again as that same primal instinct surfaced once more.

PREY.

I started forward to give chase, only to stop as my foot caught on something, and the red tint abruptly cleared when I looked down to see the groaning form of the unconscious ogre I'd flattened when this entire mess began.

I frowned for a moment before shifting my gaze to his also unconscious ant-headed friend, and my body slowly relaxed as all the tension gradually bled out of it.

That… that was enough.

I might not have known what that was or why I was feeling this way, but I did know that this whole cluster fuck had already escalated way beyond what I'd originally intended.

There was no need to go any further.

I'd probably never see that girl or any of these other thugs ever again, and continuing this farce would only increase the odds of some serious trouble coming down on my head.

Or the Nobukos.

Still, as I moved to grab my purchases so I could finally head home and put this mess behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling…

…that this was just the beginning of my troubles.

 

[King of Terror]

Oh yeah, I also forgot to leave a note.

Make sure to please leave a comment and feedback and spread the world if you can please!

I welcome discussion and constructive criticism so I can continue to improve as a writer.

 

[trashtaker]

Absolute peak fanfic.


Is he gonna change his name to Alex Mercer?

 

[King of Terror]

Absolute peak fanfic.


Is he gonna change his name to Alex Mercer?

Click to shrink...

No.

This isn't an SI fic.

LD made me get rid as much of those elements as possible.

Thus John/Pariah has no knowledge of Prototype and his exact origins and how he ended up in MHA are going to remain mostly ambiguous.

But thank you.

I'm really glad you like it.

 

[trashtaker]

No.

This isn't an SI fic.

LD made me get rid as much of those elements as possible.

Thus John/Pariah has no knowledge of Prototype and his exact origins and how he ended up in MHA are going to remain mostly ambiguous.

But thank you.

I'm really glad you like it.

Click to shrink...

Fair enough though will his skill set diverged from the original?

 

[King of Terror]

Fair enough though will his skill set diverged from the original?

Click to shrink...

Oh yeah.

Trust me, Pariah's going to get everything Mercer and Heller had and then some.

There were already a few hints of that in the Prologue.

 

[SpookedCommentator]

With the abundance of quirks, I wouldn't be surprised if he already can make Brawlers and Juggernauts.

 

[King of Terror]

With the abundance of quirks, I wouldn't be surprised if he already can make Brawlers and Juggernauts.

Click to shrink...

Oh trust me, I have a few ideas about that.

They had faced down the worst, most terrible Villain the world had ever known, one that had killed scores of the best and most highly ranked Pros Hero Society had to offer and brought the entire world to its knees with its unstoppable Black Tide… and they had survived.

Click to shrink...

But the way he's going to go about it might be a bit different than you're expecting.

Also, I should probably note that Pariah can't do that yet because the Prologue's set near the endgame much like the Prologue in the original Prototype game.

 

[King of Terror]

As a side note, does anyone here know anywhere/way I could advertise this fic on this forum?

I literally just signed up for it today.

 

[NutakuFan]

I'm loving these long chapters. Also, if you could author-san, don't spend too much time on the whole "agh, I've eaten a human, how could I!? *Sad*" stuff

 

[trashtaker]

As a side note, does anyone here know anywhere/way I could advertise this fic on this forum?

I literally just signed up for it today.

Click to shrink...

https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/nsfw-recommended-reading.526/

Can use this to advertise. Otherwise just keep posting in NSFW and people will flock here. Especially since this is a very rare crossover fic of Prototype and MHA

 

[King of Terror]

I'm loving these long chapters. Also, if you could author-san, don't spend too much time on the whole "agh, I've eaten a human, how could I!? *Sad*" stuff

Click to shrink...

Eh, you're going to have to be more specific on what you mean by "spending too much time" on that particular issue.

While I don't intend for him to be constantly moping and angsting about it and instead plan to have him focus on figuring out what's causing this and how to fix it, it's not something you can just brush off either.

Plus, he's going to have a bunch of other problems he's going to have to deal with here soon.

https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/nsfw-recommended-reading.526/

Can use this to advertise. Otherwise just keep posting in NSFW and people will flock here. Especially since this is a very rare crossover fic of Prototype and MHA

Click to shrink...

Um... can I do that?

This isn't technically a NSFW fic.

While there's going to be plenty of violence and gore like in the Prototype games I don't plan on taking it to torture porn levels and don't plan to include any graphic sex scenes either.

 

[Angry_Crustacean]

Im guessing that spiderwoman runs her mouth and this ends up getting back to AFO?

 

[trashtaker]

Um... can I do that?

This isn't technically a NSFW fic.

While there's going to be plenty of violence and gore like in the Prototype games I don't plan on taking it to torture porn levels and don't plan to include any graphic sex scenes either.

Click to shrink...

Yes. A lot of the works in NSFW thread doesn't even have 18+ scenes.

 

[King of Terror]

Im guessing that spiderwoman runs her mouth and this ends up getting back to AFO?

Click to shrink...

You're going to have to wait and see exactly how it plays out, but I will confirm that's not how Pariah gets AFO's attention.

Even if Spiderface did have a line to him, which is extremely unlikely given she was just part of a ragtag street gang, AFO wouldn't have any reason to care at this point in time.

 

[Angry_Crustacean]

Even if Spiderface did have a line to him, which is extremely unlikely given she was just part of a ragtag street gang, AFO wouldn't have any reason to care at this point in time.

Click to shrink...

Considering ho pretty much all crime is connected to AFO in some way or another, I was thinking more like her bosses bosses boss knew someone in his organisation that passed the word on

 

[King of Terror]

Considering ho pretty much all crime is connected to AFO in some way or another, I was thinking more like her bosses bosses boss knew someone in his organisation that passed the word on

Click to shrink...

Eh... my editor LD1449 really doesn't like that aspect of canon MHA or just how much emphasis is put on a small handful of people.

And while I think he can be a bit overly strict at times, I do agree that having literally every single crime that goes on in Japan tie back to AFO somehow no matter how big or small is a little much.

Especially after all the damage All Might did to his organization and drove him into hiding.

LD would probably explain this better than I can, but in his words "The World is Bigger Than One Person/A Few People".