[Third Person POV]
(Recommended Song for a better reading experience: Radiohead – Everything In Its Right Place)
Denki and Kirishima smashed their backs against the massive trunk of a tree, the impact sending a deep shudder through the wood. Denki let out a guttural grunt as his spine jarred from the blow, a sharp spike of pain flaring through his ribs. Beside him, Kirishima's hardened body struck with such brutal force that the entire tree split at its core, trembling before finally giving way. It toppled with a thunderous crash, shattering across the torn battlefield in a storm of splinters and dust.
Both young heroes were left sprawled along the scarred ground, their breathing ragged and uneven. Tears streamed freely down their dirt-streaked faces, but the moisture was not born of physical agony. Their bodies ached, yes, but the sting in their hearts cut far deeper. These were not tears of pain. They were the tears of helplessness, of rage, of a grief so sharp it threatened to tear them apart.
Denki clawed desperately at the shredded earth, fingers digging into the dirt until his nails broke and grit collected beneath them. Sparks flickered violently around his trembling hands as he dragged himself forward, eyes locked on the chaos unfolding ahead. The Ultron sentinels advanced like an unstoppable wave, their metallic forms gleaming as they unleashed a relentless tirade of energy blasts. Each detonation rocked the area in deafening explosions, fire and smoke painting the air.
"Tony…" Kirishima's voice cracked, his usually bright, fearless tone reduced to a raw, trembling whisper. His hardened body began to soften, plates of rock retreating. He slammed a trembling fist against the rubble-strewn ground, the sharp report of his knuckles striking stone echoing his frustration. His jaw clenched until his teeth ached.
"I know…" Denki hissed through gritted teeth, lightning crackling faintly along his arms as fury bubbled in his veins. Among all their friends, it was safe to say that he and Kirishima had grown closest to Tony. To them, Tony Stark was more than just a friend, in his own way he was a mentor who believed in them. He had been the one to push them beyond their limits, to sharpen their quirks with strategies and insights they would have never discovered on their own. He was the man who had shown them how to think outside the box, how to fight smarter, harder, and stronger.
And now… he was gone.
"We couldn't even touch that thing…" Kirishima growled, every syllable soaked in grief and shame. His voice cracked under the weight of it, frustration spilling out. "He didn't even spare us a glance. We were nothing to him. Nothing!"
Denki felt his own rage surge like a live current, electricity dancing across his skin in angry bursts. He scraped his bleeding fingers deeper into the dirt, the grit grinding into open cuts as he spat through clenched teeth. "He swatted us away like we were insects… like we didn't even matter!"
Their tears mingled with the ash and soil, their grief transforming into a shared resolve. As one, they shouted into the smoke-filled air, voices trembling but defiant.
"I want to avenge Tony!"
"But in order to do that," Kirishima roared, his voice growing in ferocity as his body began to shift again, "I need to become stronger!"
The earth trembled as his quirk flared to life. His skin darkened, muscles tightening as stone-like plates rippled across his arms. Kirishima's fingers elongated, cracking and reshaping into clawed points as his entire body hardened with furious determination. His sharp teeth grew even more pronounced, jagged fangs flashing as his features twisted into something almost feral—something beyond human. His eyes burned with savage fire, yet tears still streaked the hardening surface of his face, carving bright lines down the growing fortress of rock.
Beside him, Denki also rose shakily to his feet, sparks spitting from his fingertips like miniature lightning storms. His hair stood on end, golden strands rising with the raw static surging through his veins.. "And I… I'm going to wield more power!" he shouted, voice sharp with fury. "I'm going to burn brighter, strike harder—until I can't be ignored!"
They stood side by side, dirt and blood clinging to their bodies. Kirishima's voice deepened into a guttural growl, his muscles creaking like bending steel as his transformation pushed further than ever before.
"I need to be harder… tougher… stronger—beyond anything I've ever achieved!" His roar shook the air itself, flecks of saliva spraying as he nearly foamed with raw determination. His hardened skin cracked audibly.
Through the haze of fury, memories surged forward like a flood—moments with Tony, his wry smirk and exasperated lectures replaying in vivid clarity.
---
"Tell me," Tony's voice echoed in his mind, teasing but patient, "do you actually know what soft muscle tissue and hard muscle tissue are?"
Kirishima sat cross-legged on the training room floor, hair damp with sweat and falling into his eyes. A towel draped loosely over his head, steam rising from his overworked body. "Uh… they're muscles?" he said sheepishly, flashing a crooked grin as he flexed his biceps for emphasis.
"No shit, rocks-for-brains," Tony shot back with a trademark eye roll. "I'm asking if you know what they do."
Kirishima pouted like a scolded child, but Tony pressed on, arms crossed as he began pacing. "Soft muscle tissue is the state your muscles are at while you're at rest. Hard muscle tissue is what happens when it's active—flexing, engaging, pushing its limits. Now, imagine your quirk doesn't just harden the surface of your skin. Imagine it forces every soft muscle fiber in your body to compress, to densify beyond natural limits. You're not just making yourself tough, you're making yourself strong."
He extended a hand, his gaze steady and unwavering. "You have the potential to push your physical abilities to heights most people can't even dream of. Your hardening doesn't just make you durable. It makes you powerful. Don't ever underestimate that. Your quirk is incredible—but it's nothing without you. Never forget, quirks are only as great as their wielders."
Kirishima remembered the warmth of Tony's palm as he took it, the spark of belief that had ignited in his chest that day. He had turned redder than his own hair in his flush state.
---
Now, standing amidst ruin, Kirishima clenched his jagged fists and pushed every lesson Tony had given him into action. His muscles constricted with unbearable pressure, each fiber twisting and hardening until they felt like forged steel. His very cells seemed to crystallize into stone, locking into place as his body twitched under the impossible strain. Even his eyes began to fissure faintly, spiderweb cracks spreading across the whites as they hardened along with the rest of him. Every joint groaned under the immense pressure.
Denki roared, the sound tearing from his throat like a primal beast awakening. His scream nearly drowned beneath the deafening singing of electricity that burst from his body in uncontrollable, violent arcs. Bolts snapped through the air with the ferocity of a summer storm.
"I can't hold back anymore!" he bellowed, every word vibrating with raw desperation as the power inside him clawed for release. "I don't care what happens to my body—if my nerves fry, if my mind melts from my own power—I don't care! I need more. I need… more… POWER!!"
The final word erupted like a thunderclap, electricity answering his call in a furious chorus of light.
---
"The human body is much more amazing than people give it credit for," Tony said casually, standing over Denki's limp figure. The boy was sprawled along the training room floor, tongue lolling from exhaustion, sparks still dancing across his twitching hands.
Tony crouched beside him, an infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ever thought about just… unleashing everything? No filters. No regulators. Just—bam—all at once. See what happens?"
Denki groaned, eyes rolling. "No? Because I don't want my brain to melt, thanks."
"Well, you'd need a brain first for it to melt," Tony shot back without missing a beat.
Denki managed a weak glare. "Dude. Your words hurt."
Tony coughed into his fist, feigning remorse. "Sorry. But as I was saying—the human body is an incredible machine. Nothing fights harder to keep you alive than your own mind and body. Push it to the edge—really threaten it—and sometimes it adapts. Evolves. Finds a way to survive the impossible. I call that, the act of preservation"
"And if it doesn't work?" Denki asked, dragging himself upright.
"Then it was nice knowing you. I'll make sure the funeral playlist slaps."
"You jerk!"
Tony only grinned.
---
That grin flashed like lightning in Denki's mind as his present body answered the call. His pupils vanished in a blinding surge of white. Electricity no longer simply danced across his skin—it poured from his eyes in steady streams, discharging lethal energy that would have fried his brain if not for the strange, miraculous adaptation taking place. Bolts ripped into the ground, searing the soil into blackened glass. An aura of pure lightning rose from him like a living storm, twisting into a spiraling crown of light that pierced the smoke-filled sky.
Beside him, Kirishima trembled—then roared. Their grief had become a weapon, their fury the ignition. Tony's death, their helplessness, the shame of failure—all of it burned inside them, forcing their quirks past every natural limit. In that crucible of pain they did what Tony had always urged them to do.
They went Plus Ultra and awakened their quirks.
With a single earth-shattering step, the ground beneath Kirishima buckled and cracked outward in jagged fragments. "In order to destroy the monster that killed Tony," he thundered, voice resonant like an earthquake, "I won't just become hard. I won't just become strong. I'll become… INDESTRUCTIBLE!"
Denki clenched his sparking fists, electricity shrieking around him like a living storm. "Then I'll be right with you! If I'm going to turn that monster into scrap, I don't just need more power—I need to become power itself!" Sparks flared in his eyes, lightning carving wild patterns in the air. "I'll become a CONDUIT OF POWER!!"
The air itself cracked. Pressure built like a bomb about to detonate.
Then—boom.
They launched forward in unison, their combined surge creating a shockwave so violent it ripped a circular trench in the earth, sending smoke and shattered stone spraying outward.
"AHHHHHHHHH!!" Their twin roars split the sky like wild beasts unleashed from a cage.
Kirishima struck first. He launched into the air, the ground beneath him fracturing like broken glass. Appearing behind an Ultron sentinel, he locked his arms around its metal torso and squeezed with monstrous force. His limbs locked with the strength of a vice as the sentinel's metal frame shrieked in protest. Kirishima squeezed tighter—tighter—until the machine's body buckled, plates crumpling inward like paper. With a guttural roar, he snapped his jaws wide and ripped through the sentinel's neck, tearing steel and circuitry apart with monstrous ferocity.
He landed in a crouch, oil and coolant dripping from his fangs. Spitting out the bitter taste of machine fluid, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Another sentinel lunged. Kirishima didn't hesitate—he was already moving, a crimson blur of claws and jagged edges, leaping from foe to foe like a predator in a frenzy.
Denki followed in a streak of blinding light. Two glowing orbs of raw electricity materialized in his palms, twisting and elongating into twin blades of crackling plasma. With a single sweeping slash, he cleaved through an approaching sentinel, reducing it to sparking ribbons of molten scrap. The explosion blossomed behind him in a dazzling storm of light as he slid forward, his feet gliding over the fractured ground like a phantom of lightning. To him, the world slowed to a crawl—each enemy movement reduced to sluggish frames as he danced through them in supercharged speed.
Together they dissolved into a storm of fury, a two-man cataclysm of rock and lightning. Each strike was a scream of vengeance, every blow a promise to the fallen friend who had believed in them. Their grief became fuel. Their rage became evolution.
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