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This chapter contains A LOT of bloody and gore moments. Read at your own risk. Akaza is not holding back.
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Muscular's surprised grunt was a mix of shock and amusement. He was just pushed. Just like that. Like he was made of feathers.
"Ho? Another one?" Muscular laughed, the sound a low, arrogant rumble. He retracted his arm, his muscle fibers pulsing. "You're built tougher than the last one, I'll give you that. But you've got the same hero-complex look in your eyes."
Akaza didn't speak. His gaze remained locked on Rumi's unconscious, broken form. He saw the unnatural angle of her arm, the blood matting her white hair.
"You're… late… dumbass…"
Her pained, whispered words echoed in his mind, and he felt a cold, familiar stillness settle over him. The world narrowed. The sounds of the forest, the sobbing of Mina and Momo, the terrified whimpers of Kota, they all faded away. There was only the man in front of him, and the promise of what was to come.
He slowly, almost mechanically, pushed himself to his full height. His black eyes, now completely devoid of any light or emotion, rose to meet Muscular's.
Yuna. Dumped in an alley. Lifeless. Cold. Her once silky black hair matted and bloodied. A jagged scar across her torso. Her eyes shut.
"Forget my sister." The same scene from his past life repeats again and again in his mind.
The rage he felt was not hot. It was absolute glacial cold. This was not a fight. It was an execution.
"You," Akaza's voice was unnervingly quiet, a low, deadly whisper that promised absolute destruction. "Please try to stay alive as long as you can."
"OH! And what are you gonna do? I will break you just like how I broke your little girl! HAHAHAHAHA!" Muscular boasted, flexing his arms, enjoying the fear he thought he was building. "She was fast, I'll give her that, but she was brittle! Just like these other two!" He gestured to the crying Momo and Mina. "And just like you're about to be. You wanna play hero? Fine! Let's play!"
With a roar, Muscular layered his body in a dense, crimson shell of muscle fibers and charged, his fist aimed to pulverize Akaza in a single blow.
Akaza didn't move. He didn't even brace.
Destructive Death: Compass Needle.
The blue snowflake pattern flared on the ground beneath him, unseen in the chaos, and the world snapped into perfect, cold clarity. He saw the path of Muscular's fist. He saw the slight, arrogant over-commitment in his shoulder. He saw the weak point in the muscle fibers, just below the elbow.
As the fist, the size of a small car, was about to connect, Akaza moved.
He didn't use Soru. He didn't use Tempest. He used a simple, fluid step, pivoting on his heel, flowing inside the villain's guard with the grace of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist. Muscular's punch, aimed at his head, sailed harmlessly over his shoulder.
Akaza's hand was already moving. He drove his gauntleted fist, infused with a compressed Air Type shockwave, directly into the weak point he had identified.
CRACK.
It was not a punch. It was a detonation.
The sound was not a muffled thud against muscle; it was the sharp, wet snap of a cannonball striking a watermelon. Muscular's dense fibers, which had repelled cannonballs and acid, offered no resistance. The shockwave bypassed the armor, and the kinetic force, with nowhere else to go, liquefied the bone and flesh beneath.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
Muscular's roar of triumph cut off into a gurgling, high-pitched scream. He stumbled back, clutching the ruin of his right arm. It wasn't just broken. It was gone from the elbow down, a mangled spray of red fibers, blood, bone shards, and gore.
"MY ARM!" he shrieked, his mind unable to process what had just happened. His quirk. His impenetrable defense. It had been erased.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" Akaza's voice was dead calm. He took a single, deliberate step forward. "Good."
Muscular's arrogance evaporated, replaced by a surge of pure, primal fear. This wasn't a student. This wasn't a hero. This was a monster. He tried to cover himself with his remaining arm, muscle fibers frantically layering over his body.
Akaza used Soru.
He was behind Muscular before the villain could even turn. This time, he didn't punch. He delivered a simple, powerful axe kick, his heel charged with a shockwave: Internal Destruction, directly onto Muscular's left shoulder.
CRUNCH.
The sound of the shoulder blade, collarbone, and upper arm disintegrating was sickening. Muscular howled, collapsing to his knees, his other arm now a useless, flapping appendage. His offenses were gone. He was crippled.
"Please… wait… stop…" Muscular begged, his voice a whimpering, pathetic sound.
Akaza's cold gaze only hardened. He raised his foot and brought it down on Muscular's right kneecap. A wet, tearing pop echoed through the clearing. Muscular screamed again, his body convulsing.
He wasn't done. Akaza stepped over his flailing body and brought his other heel down on the left kneecap. Another pop.
Muscular was now a broken, sobbing heap of flesh on the forest floor, immobilized, disarmed, and utterly helpless. His enhanced muscles were desperately trying to regenerate, knitting the shattered bones and torn flesh back together, but it was a slow, agonizing process. He was trapped in a cycle of horrifying pain. This was his worst nightmare: to be weak, to be helpless, to be the prey.
From behind the rock, Kota watched, his body trembling so hard he couldn't breathe. He had wanted Muscular to pay for killing his parents. But this… this was not justice. This was a disassembly. The hero, Asura, was more terrifying than the villain had ever been.
Mina and Momo were watching with wide, horrified eyes. Mina was openly vomiting, her body shaking. Momo, her arm broken, just stared, her brilliant mind completely frozen. She was witnessing a systematic, anatomical execution, and a part of her, the logical part, was screaming that this was not a hero. This was a killer.
The sounds of the brutal, one-sided beating, the wet crunches, the agonized screams, had carried through the forest. Just as Akaza raised his fist for a final, definitive blow, a new group burst into the clearing.
Bakugo, Shoto, Izuku, and Tokoyami, fresh from their fight with Moonfish, skidded to a halt. They took in the scene: the weeping girls, the terrified child, the bloody, unrecognizable mass that was Muscular, and Akaza standing over it, his hand raised to kill.
"Akaza, stop!" Izuku screamed, his voice cracking.
At the same time, another figure landed in the clearing. Aizawa, his eyes red and glowing, his capture weapon lashing out.
"ASURA! STAND DOWN! THAT'S ENOUGH!" he roared, his voice carrying the full authority of a teacher and a pro hero. "This is not what we do! You are not a villain! STAND DOWN!"
He activated his quirk, his gaze locking onto Akaza. But nothing happened. Akaza's black eyes didn't change. His power didn't fade.
His quirk… it's not an activation. It's… it's just him? How is this possible??!!! Aizawa realized with a dawning horror.
Akaza didn't even look at him. He kept his cold gaze locked on the weeping, broken villain.
"AKAZA, I'M WARNING YOU! STOP THIS NOW OR YOU ARE EXPELLED!" Aizawa yelled, preparing to charge.
Akaza paused. He slowly reached up to his ear, his gauntleted fingers fumbling for a moment, and pulled out the small, high-tech earpiece Nezu had given him.
He tossed it onto the ground in front of Aizawa.
"Put it in," Akaza commanded, his voice flat. "The principal has a message for you."
Aizawa stared at the earpiece, then at Akaza, his mind reeling. What is going on? He snatched it from the ground and jammed it into his own ear.
"Principal! Asura is out of control! He's about to kill a villain! I need permission to--"
"You need to stand down, Shota."
Nezu's voice was not its usual cheerful self. It was as cold and hard as steel.
Aizawa froze. "What? Principal, you don't understand, he's--"
"I understand perfectly. Asura is not operating as your student right now. He is operating as an asset under my direct authority. His actions are sanctioned. This is not a training exercise, Shota. It is an extermination. Your orders are to secure the other students and stand down. Let him work."
The words hit Aizawa like a physical blow. Sanctioned? Extermination? His blood ran cold. He looked at Akaza, then at the broken students, then back at Akaza. He was suddenly, horribly aware that he was not in charge. He was just a teacher, but Nezu and Akaza… they were playing an entirely different, far darker game.
"Sensei, what are you doing?!" Izuku pleaded, seeing his teacher hesitate. "Stop him!"
"He's going to kill him!" Shoto yelled, his own principles shaken.
Muscular, hearing the heroes arguing, saw a final, desperate sliver of hope. "Help… help me…" he wept, his one good eye finding Aizawa. "Please… heroes… he's a monster… he's trying to kill me…"
That sealed his fate.
Akaza turned his full attention back to the whimpering villain. "You hurt someone you were not supposed to. You are the same as them. Pest like you needs to be wiped." He knelt, his gauntlet inches from Muscular's face. "You don't deserve to breathe."
He placed his hand on the villain's sternum.
Destructive Death: Impact.
He didn't hold back.
For a moment, nothing happened. Muscular's eyes were wide with terror. Then, they bulged. A choked, gurgling sound escaped his lips as his entire body shuddered. The internal shockwave, with no way to escape, liquefied his organs instantly. Blood erupted from his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his ears, and even the pores of his skin, a fine red mist exploding from his body. He didn't even have time to scream. His body shuddered, a grotesque, percussive pop was heard, and then he was still.
A dead, heavy silence fell over the clearing, broken only by Mina's horrified sobbing.
Akaza stood up, his gauntlet dripping with the villain's blood. He was a terrifying sight, a demon draped in shadow and gore.
Then, the killing intent vanished as if a switch had been flipped. He turned away from the corpse, his movements calm and deliberate, and walked over to Rumi's unconscious body. He knelt beside her, his expression unreadable, and gently, with a tenderness that seemed impossible after the display of brutality, he brushed the bloody hair from her face.
He looked up, his gaze sweeping over his horrified classmates, who were all staring at him as if he were a complete stranger. A monster.
"What are you idiots staring at?" His voice was cold, sharp, and cut through their paralysis. "Shoto, Bakugo, carry Yaoyorozu and Ashido. Midoriya, grab the kid. Aizawa-sensei," he said, his eyes landing on his stunned teacher, "take care of the rest of them. They're in shock."
His orders were so direct, so logical, that they bypassed the horror and snapped everyone back to reality. Shoto and Bakugo, though visibly shaken, moved to help Momo and Mina. Izuku rushed to Kota's side.
Akaza carefully slipped his arms under Rumi's broken body, lifting her with an almost reverent gentleness, and headed towards the main camp lodge. "She needs medical attention. Now."
As he passed Aizawa, he plucked the earpiece from his teacher's still-frozen hand. He clicked a button, putting it on speaker mode.
"Principal," Akaza said, his voice clipped and all-business.
"Asura. Is it done?" Nezu's voice, still cold, echoed in the quiet clearing.
"Muscular is eliminated. The Nomu is dust. Rumi, Yaoyorozu, and Ashido are critically injured. Send the clean-up squad for the body. And get a medical transport here immediately."
"Already on their way. ETA 30 minutes. I will be there by tomorrow morning. We need to sort some stuff out."
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