Archive of Our Own

"Help! Someone! Anyone!"

A woman screamed from an alleyway as two thugs cornered her. One of them was a large, burly man— clearly with some sort of muscle-enhancement Quirk similar to the mass murderer, Muscular. Beside him, another burly man, although much smaller, raised a gun and pointed it directly at the woman.

"Well, well, well~" The smaller of the two grinned, showing several missing teeth. "Look what wandered into our turf, bro. A pretty little lady all alone."

"Eh heh... lucky us." The larger brute cracked his knuckles loudly. "Don't those heroes always tell you civilians to stay outta dangerous areas, yeah? Guess she didn't listen."

"Tch, can ya blame her?" The smaller thug snorted, lazily spinning the handgun in his hand. "Heroes don't care to patrol this dump anymore. No cameras. No sidekicks. No rankings to gain here."

The woman staggered backward, panic written all over her face. She was completely and utterly defenseless as her back struck the cold, hard stone wall. "P-Please...!"

"Relax, sweetheart," The gunman mocked, finger brushing over the trigger. "If a hero actually cared enough to come help ya, they'd already be here."

The larger thug barked out a laugh. "Maybe they're too busy takin' interviews."

"Nah," The smaller one replied. "Probably busy chasin' some weak villain on live TV. Makes better ratings."

The woman's breathing hitched as the two advanced upon her. "I-I-I-I don't have a-anything of use to you!" She begged, tears welling up in her eyes. "P-Please just let me go!"

The gunman clicked his tongue. "No can do, sweetheart. Even if we do, you'll run, maybe tell the cops, and get us in a lot of trouble. Although..." That infuriating and condescending smirk grew. "Your body will make fine payment for my bro and I."

Tears now flowed freely down the woman's face, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to run, to scream, but all she could was release a sob of fear.

"If you came in here a few years ago, you may have been saved." He stated, giving a mocking pout. "After the former Symbol of Peace's battle with Toxic Chainsaw, this place was filled wracked with heroes. But," He spread his arms out wide. "No heroes in sight! They leech off other's success, and where said hero goes they go too."

The brute of a brother laughed beside him. He then began to chant, like some braindead moron. "Clothes off! Clothes off!" 

"Now tell me, sweetheart..." He brought the gun back to the woman's forehead. "Are ya gonna comply or are we going to have to take more drastic measures?"

Another cruel laugh from the man and his brother as the woman was left trembling. "P-Please... I don't want to—"

However, the woman's prayers were answered when a new voice spoke up from deeper in the alleyway. "Tsk. Tsk. Two mindless brutes attacking a woman who can't defend herself? How dull."

"Huh?!" The gunman exclaimed, turning to the darkness. "What did you say about us, ya bastard?"

"Yeah! What my brother said!"

A small, amused laugh came from the darkness, followed by the sound of purposefully echoing footsteps. "Ah, I see now. One is the mindless brute who follows the lead of their master. The other pulls the reins and acts like the 'mastermind.' Now where have I heard that before?"

When the figure revealed themselves, both men froze at the sight. 

"W-Wait... I know who you are!" The gunsman, his voice now full a fear, shouted. "You're the psychopathic freak who took out the League of Villains and the boogeyman of the underworld two years ago!"

Another, mocking laugh came from the man as he stepped forward— unafraid. His hands were behind his back, casual despite the clear mugging and rape attempt in front of him. "Indeed I am, although these days they tend to call me:"

"The Doctor."

He was a striking figure that stood at a height of 6'1. Pale blue hair framed a dark metallic mask, hiding all but the lower half of his face. A pristine white coat armored with black and gold plating hung from his shoulders, illuminated by glowing blue circuitry that pulsed like veins beneath the fabric. Sharp, feather-like structures fanned out from his back, giving him the silhouette of a predatory bird. Beside him floated a strange mechanical construct, humming softly with restricted power. To the average person, he looked like something directly out of The Plague Doctor (2016), although more similar to a scientist than a mad doctor.

In fear, the gunsman raised the weapon in his hand and quickly pulled the trigger. A loud BANG echoed off the walls of the alleyway as the shot was fired directly at the blue-haired man. In that instance, three different things happened at once.

The woman, covered her face instinctively, screaming from the brief flash of light from the firearm. Both thugs held their breaths when the weapon recoiled slightly. All the while, the Doctor was unfazed by the attack, allowing for the small bullet to get close enough before acting.

His fingers snapped beside him, and a device that was previously behind him shot in front. In the split second, the strange polynomial machine created a forcefield that deflected the projectile away. "Hmph. A Tanaka Sig P220? Such a predictable weapon to find on thugs such as yourself. If that's all that you have, then I have severely overestimated your abilities."

"Then again: with such horrendous aim, perhaps I should have simply dodged it." As the device retracted the digital forcefield, the Doctor continued to speak. "Or maybe the cause of that is due to your overwhelming fear?"

Before another shot could be fired, or even before either thug could run, they were suddenly pulled back by an unseen force. The gunman dropped his weapon, caught off guard by the sudden pull. It wasn't even two seconds before both of their throats were grasped in the tight grip of the blue-haired man. Both men gasped, struggling against the hold but to no avail— this included the more braindead of the duo.

"Please... have... mercy...!" The former gunman begged, his and his brother's face turning blue.

"Mercy?" The Doctor tilted his head to the side. Then, an amused and almost disbelieving chuckle came from his lips. "Ah, I see. You're just like all the others I've killed."

The brute gasped, his hand gripping the wrist of the blue-haired man. "What... do you... mean by... that?!"

"So the mutt does speak." He mocked before answering their question. "Those with power are so willing to hurt the defenseless, and when they plead for mercy they simply ignore them. Now not even a few minutes ago, you were threatening this young woman here whom was begging to keep her dignity. Now tell me..." His grip tightened, making the two gasp, trying to take in oxygen. "Why should I spare your lives?"

The former gunman's eyes bulged as his feet kicked helplessly above the ground. "W-We were desperate!" He croaked out. "W-We needed money!"

"Desperate?" The Doctor repeated coldly, any amusement gone. Though the mask made it hard to see, his expression never once changed. "An intriguing excuse. Alas, one I've heard a dozen times before. Are you sure that's the reason?"

"Y-Yeah!" "Yes!"

"Fascinating." He hummed. "And, awnser my query, was she the one responsible for your desperation?"

That made both brainless fools give him a confused glance. "Uh, no?" The former gunman asked.

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "I see. I see. And did she steal from you in any way, shape, or form?"

"She didn't...! But I don't—"

"Ah. Now we're getting somewhere." He interrupted, his grip tightening enough to silence the man. "As to my final question: did she threaten to take your measly lives?"

A choked response came from the brute. "The lady... did not...!"

"Then this could have all been avoided, no?" The Doctor smirked cruelly. "Imagine you simply going along with your life, living as ordinary civilians instead of simple crooks. Now your worthless lives are in my hands, not even good enough to be test subjects for my experiments." He clicked his tongue. "Now I'll ask again: why should I spare your life?"

Neither man answered. Not because they didn't want to answer this monster, but because they couldn't. He simply laid out the facts, and they, foolishly, gave him all the answers that he needed to know. It was getting harder to breathe now, the iron grip on their necks only growing more intense.

A small scoff came from the bluette, dropping both men to the ground and letting them greedily take in oxygen. Another disgusted sound came from the Doctor's mouth as he approached the two men, sending a powerful kick into the brute's chest— causing an audible SNAP— sending him crashing into the alleyway wall. 

"Brother! You...!" The gunman cried out, reaching for his weapon. "I'm going to kill you!"

Another laugh came from the Doctor, although it sounded more bored than intrigued or even mocking. "Another cliché response I've heard far too many times. Can't you come up with at least something original enough to amuse me?"

Before the man could react, the bluette raised his hand dismissively, and increased the crooks center of gravity. A blue, unnatural and powerful force pushed him down to the hard, asphalt ground. A cry came from the man, whom struggled to stand up but to no avail now with a boot not planted on his chest.

The woman, whom was frozen in fear all this time, watched as this man— this hero— saved her life. It was a bit, but soon she, too, recognized the figure from the appearance and from what the crooks said moments prior. "Wait... aren't you that vigilante that killed All for One two years ago?"

"Oh? So the misses finally speaks up. As for your question... yes, I am the same man who eliminated that interesting specimen." The Doctor mused, turning to face the woman who flinched under his gaze. "Since these gentlemen aren't going to answer, why don't you? Tell me; do these two deserve mercy?"

Another shudder came from the brunette. Her gaze swept to the two men who would have done an unspeakable and unforgiving act to her not even five minutes ago. The more muscular of the two was bleeding an unconscious while the other one was on the ground, eyes locking onto her and begging for mercy.

Revenge would be sweet, and she would be lying if she said that the urge for it wasn't coiling up inside her. However... what right did she have in deciding the fate of these individuals? After a moment, she looked up at the Doctor and gave her answer, "No."

"'No?'" He repeated, his masked face briefly lighting up in intrigue— as if finding a new discovery. "And, please tell me Miss, why have you chosen to give this answer?"

"I..." She paused, thinking over her words carefully. If she said something this vigilante didn't agree with, he could very easily put her in the situation as these trash. "I shouldn't be the one to decide their fate. H-Heroes could put them in jail, let them reform or... or..."

Despite her uncertainty, the Doctor nodded along. "Ah yes, I understand. You believe the 'heroes' will come and arrest these fiends before throwing them in jail. Maybe be in there for a while for attempted theft and attempted rape, but what then?" His voice became colder and far more serious. "But they can't run out of criminals now, can they? They need villains to fight, and without them they began to lose interest and popularity. Then their paychecks will—" "Stop right there, Doctor! And step away from the civilians!"

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a new voice. Turning, said 'Doc' noticed that there were at least eight different heroes blocking the entrance to this scene. The Doctor's crimson eyes under the mask drifted from the eight heroes, humming amusedly as he analyzed every single one of them.

"Death Gatling and his sidekicks, hm?" He tilted his head, unafraid. His "Of course you show up just as I was spotted in the surrounding area. I wonder... was it simple coincidence, or were you tracking my movements?"

A tall man stepped forward, clad in a black combat suit reinforced with steel plating. A tattered cloak hung from his shoulders like the remnants of a shattered banner, while a massive rotary cannon rested effortlessly in his mechanical arm. Beneath a mane of wild dark hair, cold eyes stared ahead with the focus of a seasoned killer rather than a hero. This was Japan's Rank 20th Hero, Death Gatling.

"Dottore," He staid, venom clear as day in his voice. "Step outside the alleyway and surrender peacefully. According to your file, you usually don't want fights like this to become messy now, do you?"

"Hmph. How predictable. Always spouting the same old 'surrender now or prepare to fight' speech." He sighed, clearly disappointed, as he glanced at the woman. "Miss, head to the back of the alleyway. With their Quirks, things could potentially get dangerous for you."

The brunette's eyes widened, quickly following what her savior said. "O-Okay. T-T-Thank you."

There was not response from him as he began to step forward further into the heroes' sight. His gaze swept over this eight-hero team, taking in each specimen that was sent to personally deal with him. In all honesty, he was rather disappointed with the line-up he was going to deal with.

Just like when he was younger, he analyzed the hero and what he once wrote down in his Hero Analysis for the Future notebooks. While he could easily deal with these individual by himself, all of them together could give him a little bit of trouble. The biggest threat was obviously Death Gatling due to his Quirk— Death's Gun— but he soon glanced over to the others.

A lanky young man with wild black hair flashed a carefree grin as he twirled a broom in his hands. Dressed in a dark bodysuit and brimming with reckless confidence, he looked like the kind of person who could turn even a janitor's tool into a deadly weapon. This was Stinger, Japan's 31st hero. His Quirk was called Sting.

Clad in a bright red-and-gold costume adorned with smiley-face symbols, the man carried an enormous hammer over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. His relaxed posture and confident stance gave him the appearance of a carefree hero, though the sheer size of his weapon hinted at a far more dangerous side beneath the cheerful aesthetic. This was Smile Man, Japan's 27th Hero, with the Quirk Spin.

At first glance, it looked like a giant toad walking on two legs. Only after a second look did it become clear that a person was hidden beneath the grotesque mask, their glowing eyes peering from the darkness behind the creature's open maw. Even so, the distinction did little to make the sight any less unsettling. This was the Japan's 36th known as Chain'n'toad, with his Quirk called Amphibian.

A rugged man in a cowboy hat leveled two oversized revolvers at his target, his masked eyes wide with focus. With stubble lining his jaw and a yellow scarf draped around his neck, he looked every bit the wandering gunslinger, though the determination in his voice marked him as far more than a simple outlaw. Gun-Gun, Japan's 43rd Hero, and his Quirk, Aim. 

A blond young man in a blue combat suit watched from the sidelines, his bright blue eyes narrowed in concentration. The dramatic curls framing his face gave him a distinctive appearance, while the nervous sweat on his cheek revealed that even he wasn't entirely confident about what was about to happen. This was Shooter, Japan's 99th Hero, with a Quirk called Archer.

The second to last her was Wild Horn, Japan's 54th Hero, with his Quirk Bio-Drill. Clad in crimson-and-gold armor, the warrior resembled a knight from a forgotten age. A horned helmet hid their face behind an expressionless visor, while the polished armor and imposing stature gave them an air of unwavering strength and discipline.

Last, but not least, was a Glasses, a hero whom has recently climbed through the ranks now being at 104th, with his Quirk being called Willpower. He was a bespectacled young man in a green tracksuit With his neatly kept black hair, composed expression, and keen eyes, he looked more like a university student than someone preparing to face danger.

Despite being heavily outnumbered, and with so many high ranking heroes too, Dottore remained unfazed. Rather, a small, yet sadistic smile began to spread along his lips as he continued to walk forward. "So many of you coming all this way just to become factors in this experiment? I must say, I am truly honored you offered yourselves up like this~"

"Enough talking, Dottore." Said the highest ranking hero here, aiming his arm directly at the vigilante. "I won't repeat this again, come with us quietly and there won't be any need to dirty your lab coat."

"Oh? I don't believe that will be necessary, Death Gatling." He stated calmly, hands folded behind his back. "After all, your Quirks are nothing impressive. All of you need to rely on equipment to even properly use them."

"And does that apply to you as well?" Wild Horn asked, gesturing to the device hovering beside him. "In all reports from witnesses, they have stated you use that thing in order to fight. Quite the hypocrisy, Doc."

He turned to the man dressed like a bull and a knight. "On the contrary. You all have some sort of unique advantage with those unique, yet otherwise worthless abilities of yours. I have to have some sort of advantage against you, otherwise it wouldn't really be a fight."

"'An advantage?'" Glasses thought, his mind racing with what Dottore meant by that.

"Enough chatter, Dottore." Gun-Gun spoke in a thick, over the top country accent, aiming his duel pistols directly at the bluette. "And surrender!"

BANG! BANG!

"He he he~" A dark chuckle came from the Doctor, as he suddenly vanished in a flash of blue light. When he spoke again, he was on one of the buildings opposed of the alleyway he was just standing on. "No need to rush through  experiment, heroes. Allow me to at least gather some data from you first."

And with those words, he used the strange device to summon multiple, mechanical needles suddenly appeared. Their inside machinery twisted, and soon the power of Hydro gather, and highly compressed, lethal beams of water were shot at the heroes who dispersed. Dottore hummed, excitement building up within him at the prospect of a good fight.

Il Dottore wasn't always the way he was— far from it actually. Once upon a time, he was a timid, yet happy young man called Izuku Midoriya. He, like many in his generation, was a Hero hopeful who wanted to be just like the number one hero at the time: All Might. Yet, there was a small problem with that dream of his: he was Quirkless just like 20% of the global population.

Despite having parents, both of which having Quirks, fate decided to be cruel and gift him nothing. All his life, he was bullied, betrayed, ridiculed, beaten, and outcasted all of his life because genetics were not kind to him. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he worked, the response was always the same: "You cannot be a hero without a Quirk."

Funnily enough, Izuku, at some point, found that response dull and unfulfilling, but he never once gave up on his dream. Even though people in his life, such as his mother and former childhood best friends, constantly reminding him every day— the latter more so than the former. No matter every bruise, every burn he suffered, that flame inside him to remain a hero never one extinguished. Sure, it may have flickered every now and again, especially since his self-esteem was taking a beating every day for a decade straight, but never went out.

Until... one day... he met the same hero that has kept that fire burning ever since his diagnostic. And do you know what that man told him? What he told to the timid boy, whom was on the edge of completely breaking?

No. No ordinary individual could be a hero without a Quirk, not only was it unprecedented, but the idea would shatter society as a whole.

Ah, I see that you may be confused. Allow me to explain in further depths. If someone without power can rise high enough in the ranks, what would even be the point of superpowers? Even those with seemingly useless powers can save others like him, yet All Might dismissed someone Quirkless... why?

To this day, the boy was unsure— even after he figured out that the Symbol of Peace didn't have one of his own and one point and time.

What he was sure about was that the interaction nearly put out the ever burning flame. Izuku once heard all it took was one bad day, and even the most pure of souls could become evil and twisted. Yet, before he could descend into madness, the hero returned with an offer after displaying heroism even without power. By saving his childhood tormentor, he became the man's successor, the one to inherit the Quirk One for All.

Ah, that's right. Most of you young scholars in the audience wouldn't fully grasp just what this Quirk was or represented. Well then, allow me to enlighten you on a simple truth hidden to you by the world.

One for All origins date back to the dawn of Quirks— or Meta Abilities as they were called back then— between twin brothers named Yoichi Shigaraki and Zen Shigaraki. The former of the two, Yoichi, was thought to be Quirkless, while the later had the ability to take and give Quirks as he saw fit called All for One. During the time period, Zen wished to become a leader of the criminal empire, and using the chaos in society from the emergence of Meta Abilities he succeeded.

Being given many titles, such as the Symbol of Fear and Evil, The Quirk Stealer, Emperor of Darkness, and most importantly: The Demon Lord. As you can tell, he was quite fortunate in his career as the most infamous villain at the time.

His brother, poor little Yoichi, tried his best to stand up to his brother, but ultimately failed. Yet, instead of killing his weak brother, Zen chose to keep him locked away— almost like possession a child didn't give away. Then, to either make him submit or break, the Symbol of Fear gave him an unnamed stockpiling Quirk.

What nobody, not even his brother realized, was that Yoichi did have a Quirk. It was one to transfer powers, a useless ability on its own, but with the stockpiling Quirk... he he he. Well, the two fused together, creating One for All, a Quirk that will get stronger over time until it would one day be strong enough to defeat Zen.

Time passed, those who carried the Quirk came and went, until it was eventually transferred to Izuku Midoriya. As a Quirkless individual, he was a perfect vessel for the Quirk. One for All was, to put it in simple terms, an enhancer, and due to All Might and he Quirk has reached an unstable level. Anyone else other than someone without a Quirk would slowly die from it, their cells undergoing a constant state of self-destruction. For once, a Quirkless individual was far more superior than those born with power.

Now, with that context on just what One for All is out of the way, allow me to continue to story of Izuku Midoriya.

The boy trained his way every day, for ten months, until he his arms, legs, and body ached from the effort. At the end of all of his hard work, he received the Quirk laser, and enrolled in the high school of his dreams: U.A. Although, looking back at it now, it's ironic how All Might had to him little Izuku a Quirk to become a hero like he dreamed.

Over the following months, the boy trained hard to control the power of One for All. It's power was immense, nearly boundless, and simply going over his limit would result in shattering bones, shredded muscles, and torn ligaments. No matter how much he brought harm onto his own person, he still continued to strive for improvement. Quite the heroic individual, don't you think?

Not everything was sunshine and rainbows for Izuku Midoriya, however. In the very first week of U.A., his heroics training in the USJ was attacked by a group known as the League of Villains. Their leader was a man in his twenties known as Tomura Shigaraki, the apprentice and future successor of All for One himself, although he was naive to this fact at the time.

It wasn't just this event either, my fellow scholars. There were many more that followed in his short heroics career.  One such occasion was when he was interning with All Might's mentor, Grand Torino, and fought against the infamous Hero Killer, Stain. Although, that man wasn't trying to kill him due to his own, twisted moral compass. I suppose we are pretty similar— both outcasts and taking it to the extreme to save this broken society.

Life continued, until the events of the Summer Training Camp occurred. As many of you may know, Classes 1A and 2B— taught by Shouta Aizawa and Sekijiro Kan— were brought to a private grounds run by the Wild-Wild Pussy Cat's group. There, the League of Villains arrived despite those training grounds being unknown to the rest of Japan's population. They weren't even supposed to bring their phones to keep this hidden facility hidden.

Afterwards, you should all know the story. Katsuki Bakugo and the Pro Hero Ragdoll— or Tomoko Shiretoko— were captured by them. U.A. got flamed by the media due to their negligence to keep their students safe from harm. All Might and All for One clashed once more, continuing the never ending feud between their Quirks, and in the end the Symbol of Peace won and then retired. Bakugo and Shiretoko were rescued, although the latter lost her Quirk.

It was here when the path you're most familiar with begins to diverge. Unlike in the Timeline you're most familiar with, U.A. decides to crack down on who the possible traitor within the school was. There was a very high probability that it was a student, but they couldn't simply go around and begin accusing those who would be innocent.

Thus, they began to look at recordings over the previous months, observing each and every student. From their Quirks, to their behavioral patterns, to even the small things such as shifts in movement. Then, around two or so weeks after the events of Kamino, an anonymous source tipped them off of the sight of one of their students giving information to the villain named Dabi.

It was Izuku Midoriya.

I know. I know. Hard to believe, am I right? That's because, despite the footage, the person you see is not the hero hopeful at all, but rather the villain Himiko Toga. At this point in my tale, they were all very unaware that the girl's Quirk involved transformation after the consumption of blood. I don't think I need to explain what followed such revelations?

They outcasted him, unaware that he was but a pawn in a game played by much darker forces. Poor Izuku was the perfect scapegoat for the real traitor to continue fetching information for their villainous allies. Best of all? U.A.'s reputation, which was already on thin ice after the Summer Training Camp, would be even more damaged than before. Imagine? Condemning what could have been the greatest hero— even surpassing All Might.

Everyone was tense now that there was a traitor among them. With the teachers so foolishly spreading this news, it deeply affected their psychology to the point of acting... irrational. Instead of letting the evidence be proven, the student body decided to take matters into their own hands led by Katsuki Bakugo. Yes, that's right, a bunch of teenagers decided to play judge, jury, and executioner.

What followed was what could only be describe as a blood bath. Izuku Midoriya, poor little Izuku Midoriya, was attacked in secrecy, and with only eight percent of One for All mastered he was unable to defend himself against the thirty-nine other students. Needless to say, it was on that day that Il Dottore was truly born when the flames extinguished for good with his death.

And then... before he could fully feel the cold embrace of death... someone reached into the darkness and brought him back.

The once peaceful day of Musutafu were now in chaos, building collapsed, cars on fire, and the bodies of dead heroes laying on the streets. In the middle of it all, Dottore watched with cold amusement at the sight of all the death he brought. It was a rather gratifying feeling, watching as others succumb to the very same "death" he once felt.

"Mhm. My experiment was a complete and total success." He said aloud, allowing for the device beside him to once again return to its stagnated state. "It seems the conclusion is that the HPSC are still searching for me, and are sending teams designed specifically to capture me. Predictable."

Suddenly, the blue-haired male teleported away as Death Gatling shot multiple bullets from the broken, but still working machine-gun on his arm. He cursed, "Damn it...!"

"Still alive, are we?"

There was no time for the hero to react before a large, mechanical needle blasted the entire arm off in a condensed beam of Electro. Death Gatling let out an agonized scream, reeling on the ground and clutching the now stump of an arm. From behind, the Doctor floated in the air with a rather bored look on his face.

"Oh, quit your screaming." Dottore sighed, exasperated. "No need to continue your screaming, Death Gatling. I no longer require results now that my experiment is over."

Said hero looked at the Doctor, and glared with every ounce of hatred he can muster. "You... You're a sick sonofabitch, you know that?!"

"So I've been told by many of your kind." He waved off, landing on the ground a few meters away. "Although, if you chose to not engage with me, I would have originally used this on simple crooks. Speaking of which—" He glanced to the alleyway and clicked tongue, noticing a trail of blood leaving the alleyway. "Got away thanks to you. So, congratulations, Hero, you let more criminals run the streets."

"You were a bigger threat to Japan— no, to the world! You would have boosted the ratings of my agency would—"

"And there it is!" Dottore interrupted, grinning devilishly. "They say those who are on the verge of death reveal who they truly are inside. Once again, you have answered another one of my list of long-term experiments."

A weak laugh escaped from the man's throat before falling into a fit of bloody coughs. "You really believe all that bullshit you're spouting?!"

"Oh?" An amused glint came to the crimson eyes underneath the mask— not that the hero could see it. "And what makes you say that, Hero?"

"You act like you're exposing some grand truth." The hero spat blood onto the pavement. "Like you're the only one who sees how ugly the world is. That it's cruel. That it's unfair!"

The Doctor remained silent for a moment, tilting his head. 

Taking that as a cue to continue, Death Gatling did. "Every hero knows the system is flawed. That sometimes it creates the very villains that we heroes protect the innocent from."

"Is that right?"

"Of course we do." He scoffed, weakling looking at the Doctor. "It doesn’t take a mad scientist like yourself to comprehend how fucked up this society is. Whether that be how many civilians die from inaction, or how much damage is caused to the surrounding area.“

The bluette narrowed his crimson eyes from behind his. “Yet you chose to do nothing about it. Instead of dealing with the infection, you let it grow into rot.”

“We do what we can.”

A scoff escaped Dottore. “What a pathetic excuse, and one I’ve heard far to many times before. You Heroes love to blame others, even while excusing your own inaction. A pity, and here I thought you may have been one of the better heroes before your death. Yet… all I see is another worthless ant in the hive.”

Death Gatling barked up a laugh, even as more and more blood leaked from the arm-socket. “A ‘worthless ant,’ huh?” He spat. “Ironic coming from the Quirkless kid who spent years obsessing over the very heroes he now kills like livestock.”

For the first time since the hero appeared, Dottore’s smile dropped. “And what about your hypothesis did I confirm to get to that conclusion of ‘irony?’”

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Izuku Midoriya.” Another twitch, more violently this time, came from the Doctor. “You keep talking about experiments, data, conclusions, like right now. You act like you’re above emotion. But everything you’ve said and done has been the exact opposite!”

“Oh…?”

“This drive of yours to destroy a society built upon centuries isn’t an experiment. You don’t kill heroes because it fills your heart with a sick satisfaction. You did it because you’re an angry, bitter child throwing a temper tantrum over a mistake done to him.” The hero gave a bloody smile, red staining his teeth. “You’re simply a kid who was hurt. A kid who never got over it, because no matter how you frame it that is the truth.”

Silence followed the Death Gatling’s ramble, leaving the only sound to be the flickering of fire. Then, a small, genuine chuckle came from Dottore’s lips. That’s how it began before soon it began to grow in volume and intensity, truly sounding as if he had gone completely mad

When the Doctor calmed down, he was smiling widely. “Is that how you see me? Well, Hero, would you get over it if all your life you have been told the same thing over and over again? That you were hit by an explosion daily by a kid with a superiority complex larger the Everest? To die at the hands of my very own friends? So what if I am angry? What if I’m so angry to tear down the very society you know is corrupt yet do nothing to fix it.”

Death Gatling was startled. “That’s not what I—“

“Oh. Of course it is.” He said condescendingly, beginning to pace around the fallen hero. “This experiment of to destroy hero society has yet to reach even thirty percent yet, but soon, very soon, it will be complete. And from those crumbling ashes of the HPSC, I shall reforge this society anew. No one will have to worry about discrimination from having no Quirk, or those from having ‘mutation’ or ‘villainous’ Quirks. The justice system won’t hand out weak punishments to the guilty, sending out more criminals back onto the streets. Heroism won’t be decided who have powerful or flashy Quirks, but by those who truly deserve it.”

Another cough of blood, and the hero began to feel his life draining from him. “Y-You… really are a crazy bastard…!”

“Ah, I know I am.” He laughed again, crouching down in front of the hero. “But it appears that our time together in this experiment has come to predictable end.” As he begins to walk away, he paused, turning back to Death Gatling. “Oh, one more thing I must adress. It was about me being ‘above emotions.’ Well, what if I told you a little secret of mine~?”

He leaned back down, and whispered something in the ear of the hero. Death Gatling’s eyes widened in horror and alarm as the last thing he heard was:

“If I believe I’m above emotions, then why is it that I have friends, a loved one, and a child~?”

Then, like the rest of the heroes he came with, died in a pathetic heap on the ground, drowning in his own blood. Meanwhile, Dottore began to walk away before, as if never existing in the first place, disappeared in a flash of blue.