Izuku Midoriya has been implanted with multiple He
Izuku Midoriya has been implanted with multiple Herrscher cores by the Will of Honkai. But with many years of being tormented, does he still want to be a hero?
The flickering neon signs of Neo-Musutafu cast long, distorted shadows across the rain-slicked streets. Izuku Midoriya, once a symbol of hope, now a walking paradox, hunched in a darkened alley, his body a cage for something ancient and terrifying. Years ago, the Will of Honkai, a cosmic entity of unimaginable power, had chosen him. Not as a vessel, not as a weapon, but as a living experiment – a chaotic confluence of Herrscher cores. The cores of the Void, of the Thunder, of the Flame, and others, now warred within him, a symphony of destruction.
The transformation hadn’t been gradual. It had been brutal, a psychic and physical maelstrom that had shattered his body and mind countless times. He’d endured experiments, torturous manipulations, his very being reshaped to withstand the raw power of the Herrschers. He’d felt the cold, calculating logic of the Void, the furious, untamed energy of the Thunder, the consuming fire of the Flame – all vying for dominance, each chipping away at the fragile remnants of the boy who had once dreamed of being a hero.
The scars were more than just physical. They etched deep lines on his soul, twisting his memories into grotesque parodies. He’d seen glimpses of potential futures, horrific timelines where his power, unchecked, brought ruin to the world. The weight of that potential, the responsibility that had been thrust upon him – a responsibility he never asked for – was crushing.
He clenched his fist, the faint hum of Herrscher energy vibrating through his bones. The power thrummed, a restless beast demanding release. He could level this city, obliterate everything in a cataclysmic display of force. It was a temptation, a dark siren song whispering promises of release from the torment.
But in the depths of the tormented soul, a flicker of the old Izuku remained. A faint ember of the boy who had believed in kindness, in justice, in the possibility of heroism. It was a weak flame, constantly threatened by the raging inferno of the Herrscher cores.
He remembered All Might’s smile, his words of encouragement, a beacon lost in the storm. He remembered Kacchan, his childhood rival, a complicated figure now shrouded in a fog of ambiguous feelings. And then, he remembered the victims, the innocent lives lost in the countless battles he had been forced to fight, battles where the line between hero and monster had blurred beyond recognition.
He looked at his hands, his fingers contorted in ways that defied natural anatomy. The scars were evidence not just of the Honkai’s cruelty, but also of his own desperate fight for survival, for his own fragmented humanity.
A single tear traced a path through the grime on his cheek. Was he still a hero? He didn’t know. The hero he’d once aspired to be was long gone, devoured by the Honkai. But in the heart of the storm, amidst the chaos and the pain, a different kind of hero might be possible, one forged in the crucible of unimaginable suffering. A hero who wouldn’t save the world in dazzling displays of might, but who might struggle against the very essence of his being, to prevent a greater disaster.
He rose, his shadowed figure blending with the night, the faint hum of Herrscher energy a constant reminder of the precarious balance within him. The journey ahead was fraught with danger, filled with impossible choices. But for the first time in a long time, Izuku felt a flicker of something akin to hope. The question wasn’t whether he was a hero anymore, but what kind of hero he was going to become, amidst the ruins of his past and the terrifying power of the future.
