He was so cold.
He'd tried sleeping beneath the bridges, hoping that the big structure would help keep the cold away, but all they seemed to do was block the wind, but still somehow keep the cold.
Still, sometimes, the others would share their fires with him.
Some of them had been nice to him though; they'd shown him the best places to find stuff, and if necessary, the best places to lose people.
Specifically, the best places to lose the cops.
Living underneath the "Little Pass", as they called it wasn't all bad. They had their own little community living down there, even if some of the other 'residents' didn't like the fact that they had a five-year-old living with them, they stopped complaining when they learnt that he was supposedly Quirkless.
The people down there were the cast-offs of society. They had Quirks that made them stand apart from normal people; they'd told him that some of them looked like monsters, but honestly, he didn't see it. They had been nice to him when no one else had, but apparently, they 'looked like villains', which he didn't think made any sense.
They were the nicest people that he'd ever met.
Some of them had other problems; more than one of them said that they had a 'sex Quirk' but wouldn't tell him what that was supposed to mean - just that it was apparently a bad thing.
And better than all of that, they even had a witch living under there with them, which he thought was the coolest thing you could have; she not only had a Quirk, she even knew magic, but apparently, she knew the 'wrong kind' of magic.
Whatever that meant.
Honestly, sometimes, he found living with the others confusing.
But it was better than wandering around alone.
He felt like he had a family down there - a real family - one that was even better than his old one, and they looked after him. All he had to do was help them get what they needed. Most of the time, he was the 'scout', which basically meant that he walked through their 'targets' before they did and made sure to look out for any police officers, security guards or Pro Heroes that would stop them, instead of helping them.
Growing up, he'd always been told that the Pro Heroes were the good guys. They were there to stop villains and help people like him, but now he knew better. They weren't there to help people like him, or to stop crime and save lives.
No.
Pro Heroes were there to look good. They were there to make money, and they were happy to leave people like him and his family living in the dirt, while they all got rich. They threw away food and clothes, while he was cold and starving, and worst of all, was that they pretended to care.
He'd seen them; some of them in public, and some of them on the television, and they all talked a lot about helping people and 'doing the right thing', only none of them ever did.
They had all the power in the world, but instead of using it to help others, all they did was use it to help themselves.
=== === === === ===
"Get back here, you little bastard!"
He ran.
He'd been on scout duty that morning, and he'd told Mister Scales and Mister Crawl, (they said that he didn't have to call them 'Mister', but he wanted to be as nice to them as they were to him), that he hadn't seen any police officers in the marketplace, but one of them had been there, he just hadn't been wearing the uniform. He was trying to stop Mister Scales from escaping with their stuff, so he'd run over and tackled the police officer's knees.
He fell, giving Mister Scales and Mister Crawl long enough to advantage of his distraction and run off, before he did the same.
Only the police officer chose to follow him.
The man was faster and had longer legs, but he was small enough to fit though all of the gaps in the fences that he knew about, and he knew the best routes away from the market. He was already halfway down the steps before the policeman had even realised that he was using the subway to escape.
It took him a lot less time to get down the steps though.
He ducked under the turnstile, ignoring the other adults who yelled at him, throwing himself into one of the carriages and as the policeman drew closer, he felt his heart hammering away in his chest, right up until the moment that he was able to watch his stupid face contort angrily, as the doors closed between them.
He was safe.
He waved a hand in goodbye, smiling, as the now-angry policeman yelled words that he couldn't hear, before he pulled away from the station.
He stood there for a moment, letting the sight of the station turn to black as they moved deeper underground, before he decided to take one of the seats for himself, chuckling as he did so. He looked up, both wanting to find a seat, and expecting to find a nosy adult wanting to chastise him, only to find that there was no one else around them.
The carriage was empty.
"Huh", he let out a note of surprise, as he pulled his jacket tighter around him, the cold of the morning finally getting to him. He took the seat nearest to him, watching the black walls of the underground tunnel pass him by, as he felt something settle over him.
Something was wrong.
He pressed his face to the glass, his breaths coming quickly, instantly frosting over, as the temperature dropped, the air drew colder and he realised that the train was moving too quickly.
Something was wrong.
He turned to look at the sign, to try and figure out just where they were, only to realise that he couldn't read it. The kanji were gone, replaced by strange symbols that he didn't recognise and the train was still getting faster.
Then it stopped.
It jarred to a stop and he slammed forwards. The middle of his chest hit the top of the chair in front of him, driving the air out of his lungs, as he yelped, automatically rubbing his chest with the palm of his hand.
"What's happening?"
His voice was a whisper, unsure of which missing person he was supposed to be asking, while two parts inside of him, both equally desperate collided: desire for discretion and a desire for help fought it out.
And responding as if in response to his argument, the carriage's doors, now covered in frost, slid open.
Wherever he was, he had arrived.
=== === === === ===
He was in a cave.
A real, honest to goodness cave, made of rocks and stone and nothing else. The floor, the walls and the ceiling were all one big piece of brown stone that seemed to have been dug into and nothing else.
It was cold and dark.
And then there was light.
Stuck directly into the wall was a torch sconce, like one from an old castle and at the moment he thought it was dark, it lit up, providing some much-needed light to the area. He stepped towards it, almost running in his haste, as he sought to take in its warmth, holding out his hands.
The fire didn't do much for him, but he felt his hands relax at the warmth and decided that was enough to suit his needs, as he felt the blood rushing back into his extremities.
He could have stayed there forever, and maybe he should have, but then another torch sconce flickered on and he could see how they were lighting up to show him a corridor.
The smart thing to do was to stay where he was; it was warm and safe and he had something behind him to hide in, but there was another part of him that was curious, and before he'd even realised that he was doing it, his legs were carrying him down the corridor.
More fires lit up, showing him the path forwards, though he rubbed at his arms, when he realised that he wasn't getting any warmer. His hair, limp and darkened with dirt fell into his face, and he absently pushed it back as he turned the final corner and the cave opened up into a cavern.
"Woah", he murmured, as he took in the sight of it all.
It looked amazing!
The cavern extended so high that he couldn't even see the ceiling! And the walls! They were covered in cool looking trophies! He could see weapons and books and even display cases with other items, like jewellery inside.
"So cool", he whispered, turning on the spot to take it all in.
"Meow".
He yelped loudly, leaping into the air with right, as a tabby cat wound its way around his legs. His heart hammered away in his chest, and he fought back the urge to run away, even as his eyes followed the cat, as it walked away from him, further into the cavern.
That's when he saw him.
Down, past the row of scary statues, was a platform with seven enormous chairs that were set out to form a half-circle and in the central seat, a man sat waiting.
He was old, his hair and beard were both long and white, yet his skin was dark. He might have appeared to be Caucasian once, but his skin was weathered, battered by time and yet, as he looked up, the two of them locking gazes, he could see that his eyes were as sharp as any man's.
Whoever he was, this man was no fool.
The old man rose to his feet, his long white robe giving him an air of authority, as he moved to meet him in the middle of the room, leaning on his jewel-topped staff as he walked, pausing only once to scratch the tabby under his chin, before it ran off in search of food.
"Welcome, child", he spoke softly, his voice warm and inviting.
"Wh-", his throat was dry, "who are you? Where am I?"
"I am the Wizard, the last member of the Council of Eternity", he told him, his words sending a shiver up his spine, "sworn to defend the mortal realms from those who would seek to unleash evil upon it. Once, it was I who acted as the Champion, but my time has passed and now, I seek a new Champion to inherit my mantle and my magic".
He swallowed, the noise carrying in the vast room, "You want me?"
The Wizard nodded, "If you are indeed, worthy, then the mantle is yours to inherit".
"Worthy…", he whispered.
His father had hated him, his mother was a weak woman who had abandoned him, but all he wanted to do was become a hero. Magic was rare, even among the ranks of the Pro Heroes, but if he could prove himself worthy, then he could-
"The Wizard lies".
His head snapped upwards, but the Wizard was no longer in front of him, instead, he was correcting something in one of the cases. He hadn't reacted to the voice though, which was weird, since it was loud enough that he should have been able to hear it clearly.
"Do not be his Champion".
The voices… they were coming from behind him?
"No, be ours".
The scary statues were still there, angry and frightening, their bodies like monsters, their faces contorted into snarls, only unlike before, their eyes were now the brightest of reds and he realised that they were speaking directly to him.
"We see your heart, Young One, and it is ours".
"Come, take the eye for yourself and gain the power you need to improve this world".
In front of the statues, a small orb floated, pulsing with power, and he moved closer to it, finally finding something in the cave that was giving off a sense of warmth.
"Your father thought you weak".
"Take us and show this world the true meaning of power".
Yes, he nodded, as he drew closer and his arm reached out to take the orb.
Power was the only thing that the people in this world understood. If he had power, then he could change that. He could make people see things his way. He could take his friends from their squalor and get them real homes. They could be the ones in charge, the ones-
"NO!"
A blast of lightning hit his hand, and he flew backwards in pain, clutching it to his chest. The lights in the eyes of the statues faded, and he span around, only to find the Wizard looming over him, anger and disappointment etched on his face, as he raised his staff.
"Another failure", he lamented.
"Wh- Why did you do that?!"
"You were so close too".
"I KNOW! All you had to do was let me touch it".
The Wizard shook his head, "No, all you had to do was resist it".
"I JUST NEEDED POWER!"
The Wizard looked down at him sadly, "And that is why you cannot have it", he sighed, "only the purest of hearts can truly resist the temptations of those demons", he scowled at the wall, "but you? You were drawn to them instantly. Unable", he shook his head, "or worse, unwilling, to even try".
"I don't understand".
"You were here to be judged", he raised his staff, and he knew, even before it hit the floor, that he was being sent away with it, "and you, Tenko Shimura, are unworthy".
=== === === === ===
Thirteen Years Later
=== === === === ===
He was panting as he turned around the corner, his breaths coming fast and heavy, even as he ducked into the alleyway, quickly scrambled over the fence and then turned out onto the opposite street.
No matter how many times he stole something, it always felt as terrifying as it had the first time.
Izuku didn't like that he was a thief. "Only villains steal", he remembered his mama telling him once, but Izuku didn't think that he had any other choice.
If he hadn't stolen the food, then none of them would be able to eat tonight.
Beneath his jacket, (which had also technically might have, sort have been stolen), Izuku cradled the bag of foodstuffs that he'd managed to swipe from the marketplace. It wasn't much: a (now squashed) loaf of bread, as many tins as he could manage to push into his bag in under five seconds, and as a special treat, a bag of fresh, bright red apples.
Through careful experimentation, mindful that they had no way of helping her, if she was found to be allergic to anything, they'd discovered that Eri loved apples.
They didn't actually know for certain if Eri was younger than Lala, but she was smaller than her and roughly the same size as Katsuma, and he was three, so they were guessing that Eri was about the same age as him.
Eri was the name of his littlest sister.
When Izuku had been even younger than Mahoro was now, his mom and dad had told him that they were taking him into the big city for the day. They'd dressed him in his best clothes, let him bring his favourite All Might action figure, and they'd all travelled on the train together.
When they had stopped for lunch in the park, they'd made him promise to wait on the bench by the big tree, in the park, for them to return.
He and All Might had promised to protect the park bench while they were gone. They'd protected it from the big sun overhead, they'd protected it from the long, dark shadows and then, they'd protected it from the bright moon as well.
Then the policeman had said that Izuku needed to come with him.
Mama had told him that if he ever met a policeman, then he needed do what he said, so he did. He told him that he'd promised mama that he and All Might would look after the bench, while they were busy; yes, he was cold, (the nice policeman gave him a big blue jacket to wear, that covered his entire body; and yes, his mama had given him a special number that he had to memorise, just in case he got lost. He gave it to the policeman when he asked for it, who took him to his police car, let him sit inside where it was warm and even got him a hot chocolate, before taking him to the police station, letting him turn the lights on as they drove.
It had been fun.
The policeman introduced him to some of the other policemen when they arrived, and they asked him to give them his special number once again. He did so, remembering every digit in the exact same order that mama had given it to him, before giving it to the policeman once again, who smiled, ruffled his hair and then gave him a snack to eat, while he went to do 'some work'.
An hour later, Izuku was introduced to his first social worker.
=== === === === ===
In the years since that day with the police, Izuku had grown up a lot and learned a lot more, not just about himself, but about other people as well.
Sure, lots of people played the tolerance card, but saying that you believed in it was one thing.
Living up to it was another.
People claimed to not care about Quirks, but they did.
People claimed not to believe in villainous Quirks, but they did.
People claimed not to care about being Quirkless, but you could take Izuku's word for it.
They absolutely cared.
Especially when they were the ones who had to look after him.
He'd had three foster families and been placed in four different institutions, but the story was always the same. They either treated him like he was made of glass, as if not having a Quirk meant that he would break at even the lightest contact and banned him from playing, from running and jumping.
One family had even gone as far as to ban him from using glass and metal cutlery, only trusting him with plastic.
It had been humiliating.
And in its own way, it was worse than the casual cruelty that others were capable of.
He been mocked, scorned, laughed at and pushed around for not having a Quirk. He'd tried fighting back, but it didn't matter wherever he was, or who had 'started' it, in the end, Izuku got the blame.
He was 'provoking' them, or he should 'learn his place', or had to understand that some Quirks made the others a 'little more exuberant' than some others and he needed to be 'more accepting'.
He'd tried taking refuge
In the end, he'd given up before they could send him to the local Junior High School and decided that he'd be better off fending for himself.
That had been over a year ago.
Slipping through one last fence, Izuku was certain that he had successfully dodged the stall owner and was already back home.
Home being the old warehouse.
He didn't know what it used to be used for, but there had been a big villain fight here a few years ago and the damage was enough that most of the businesses in the area had moved, rather than rebuild. There were concerns about the structural integrity of the buildings, but all Izuku knew was that they still had power and were a good place to stay warm.
"It's me", he called out, "I'm back".
Then came the onslaught.
Eri found him first, letting him scoop her up as the others followed after her, Katsuma hot on her heels, who clambered up, leaving him to awkwardly carry his ill-gotten gains alongside the two toddlers. Mahoro came along, and thankfully, she took Katsuma down, as Rody appeared to take some of it from him. Roro and Lala hugged him briefly, before helping Rody carry the goods into their makeshift kitchen.
"Welcome back", Rody called out, already putting the cans into one of the cupboards, as the others echoed the sentiment, he hugged Eri tightly for a moment, before setting her back down, where she could run off to play with the others.
For a moment, he smiled, just watching them settle in. This was his family, he'd decided, not some government building or houseful of strangers. Chuckling, he tried to imagine some of the stuck-up adults that he'd ever encountered, as he leant back against one of the walls.
"What's so funny?"
He shook his head, turning his gaze to found Rody looking straight at him, "Nothing, just taking it in", he shook his head, "how are we looking?"
Rody sighed, "We're actually looking good on food", he told him and he was glad to hear it. Rody, as the oldest of all of them, fourteen to his thirteen, was the first one to give up eating when they were short.
"But?"
"We still need the other stuff".
"Lala needs shoes?"
"It won't be long before the others do as well. We can keep the older pairs for the little ones, but…"
"But they still need new ones".
"Yeah".
"Alright", he nodded, "we'll go on Sunday".
"It'll be packed".
Izuku felt himself smirk, "Good".
=== === === === ===
"Get back here, you little bastard!"
He ran.
His and Rody's plan had gone well, in the beginning. He'd managed to stuff a bunch of shoes into his backpack, before making a break for it when the stall owner had spotted him. He'd taken off, just as planned and did the hand-off, dumping the bag on one corner as he took another, leaving Rody to take off with it.
Normally, Izuku would make it another few minutes before heading back, only today, there had been extra policemen at the marketplace - and one of them was still chasing him.
He needed to find somewhere to lose his hunter, before he could head on back home.
That's when he saw the station.
He'd never really used the subway for more than looking for change and the occasional pickpocketing, usually done during the morning rush, but the trains were regular and best of all, automated.
He took the steps two at a time, leaping the last half-dozen, as he heard the cop yell out for him to stop and in the distance, he could see, miracle of all miracles, that there was a train already on the platform, about to leave.
He leapt over the turnstile, ignoring the yells of the station workers, racing across the platform with all of the speed that his legs could muster. The cop had gotten stuck at the turnstile, the station's sole security guard rushing to let him through, but Izuku knew that it was all for nothing.
By the time he made it across, the platform, the doors had already closed.
He was safe.
He wiggled his fingers in a mockery of a wave, letting himself relaxed, as policeman's face vanished, replaced by the dark walls of the underground, as he pulled away from the station.
Some of the adults shot him dirty looks, but he paid them no mind, as he took one of the seats for himself, sagging against the wall, as he felt a wave of anxiety that he hadn't even realised that he was feeling, leave his body.
Overhead, the lights flickered for a moment, causing him and the carriage's other occupants to look up, before they settled. Shaking his head, he turned to look at the location signs, to try and figure out where he was going and how he was going to get back home, only to realise that he couldn't understand what they were supposed to be saying.
The kanji were gone and, in their place, sat a bunch of strange symbols that he didn't even recognise.
"What the hell", he murmured, and when they didn't change back to normal, he decided that he'd have to ask one of the adults for help, "excu-".
He trailed off, his voice dying, as he realised that something was wrong.
The carriage was empty.
They hadn't stopped, but everyone around him had vanished. They couldn't have moved to another one without him noticing, but they were gone.
He stood up, determined to find them, only to yelp, as he placed his hands on the top of the chair, where the small metal support band had turned ice cold.
"Wha-"
His breath frosted over in front of his face, and then, the train jolted.
It was speeding up.
Something was wrong.
He moved back to the glass, hoping to see what was wrong, but drew back instantly, when the glass started to freeze over as well, the panes seemingly turning to solid ice, right in front of his face.
Something was really wrong.
The train should have stopped. It should have crashed or broken, but he could feel it, still getting faster beneath his feet, ramping up and for a moment, Izuku wondered if he was about to die.
And then it stopped.
Without warning, the train slammed to a stop and Izuku felt himself being flung forwards, his head bouncing off the solid chair backing in front of him and his knees hitting the floor. The momentum had him rolling underneath his own chair, before he managed to push himself out from underneath and found that he was now covered in dust.
"Aw, gross", he groaned, trying to pat himself down, but all he did was succeed in spreading the dirt to his hands, and after a moment, his trousers, as he regained his feet and began looking around the icy train carriage, wondering what the hell, he was supposed to do now.
As if in response, carriage's near-frozen solid doors, slid open with a soft 'ding'.
Wherever the hell he was, Izuku guessed that he had arrived.
It was time to find out where.
=== === === === ===
Author's Notes
Thus begins the tale of Earth-7567.
Keeping with Horikoshi's convention of naming things and places after Star Wars, this Earth Designation comes from CT-7567, also known as Clone Trooper Captain "Rex", who served under Jedi General Anakin Skywalker and Jedi Commander Ahsoka Tano as part of the 501st Legion during the Clone Wars.
Rex was but one small part of the much larger clone army, and while they weren't special as individual copies of the same man, when they were treated as a collective, their strength and skill was beyond belief, much like that of our titular hero's combination of powers, which come from the ancient gods of the old world.
Why do I keep writing my characters as kids? I always feel like their voices are off.