I just wanted to stand there, looking at the sky, thinking about nothing and breathing this dirty, smog-filled air. But I had to move. I needed a place where I could hide, new clothes, and food.
For the next few hours, I had to hide, look for the necessary shops and warehouses, and at a frantic pace master and use my unexpectedly appeared Quirk. Moving quickly through the alleys, I tried to feel my Quirk more clearly. I tried to bring back that feeling of the surrounding space and what was coming out of me during that state. And there was a result, pathetic compared to before, but there was one. That substance, it was inside me, flowing through my limbs, but it couldn't leave my body. When I wanted to pass through a stone wall, the substance began to pulsate at a certain pace in my body. It was interesting, but I didn't have time for further experiments. It works, and that's fine. The main thing was that it allowed me to penetrate a closed children's clothing store. I looked unsightly at the time, in soiled white clothes given by those doctors, and my head wrapped in an obscure cloth in case there were cameras. I changed there and took a cleaner cloth. It worked out the same with the food store. But there were problems with finding a place to sleep. I somehow managed to find an empty warehouse with some tools, but I didn't want to sleep on just a stone floor. I had to look nearby for an empty apartment, from where I could take a blanket and a throw for my improvised bed.
Having settled in and quickly eaten the stolen food, I went to sleep. Or rather, I tried to, as I began to shake with tremors. Fear that they would find me and lock me in the cell again had driven me forward and given me strength all this time, but having relaxed, fatigue and confusion weighed down on me. Thoughts raced feverishly in my head and it seemed that just a little more and steam would come out of it. I was full of doubts, analyzed and criticized my actions, and thought about what I wanted and what I was capable of. My first wish after the escape was to find the nearest hero or police station and tell everything. And then a question appeared in my head: "And then what?" Well, I'll tell them that I escaped from some lab where they performed experiments on children, I'll describe the appearance of that kidnapper man with the bushy mustache; unfortunately, in the lab, all the employees I saw had medical masks on their faces and identical coats. They'll shake their heads, express their regret, and assure me that they'll find the kidnappers. And then they'll send me to an orphanage, and in a couple of weeks, an orphan with an interesting Quirk will disappear. It's hard to believe in the law when you're kidnapped practically at the doors of an orphanage. So this organization has connections. I need to hide from them, gain strength, and kill them. I hate them with the same intensity as I fear them. "I should have killed (absorbed) them all in that state; they pose a threat (they are so tasty)."
Stop.
Staring at my hands, I tried to calm the shaking. They were my kidnappers, so I didn't feel sorry for them. But the main thing was that I killed and I liked it. As soon as my Quirk awakened, my first action was to grab the nearest person and absorb his life, enjoying the whole process. Just a great start to a villain career. Yes, I know that in extreme cases, heroes can kill a villain, even if society condemns it. But they don't enjoy it. And excuses like "I wasn't myself" won't work—that's just self-deception. It seems that whether I have a Quirk or not, I will never become a hero. No one needs a hero who likes to kill.
Well, to hell with that. No one saved me; I saved myself. I can rely only on myself and my own strength. And if I have to become a villain to achieve my goals, then I will become one.
In a deserted warehouse on the edge of the city, a boy wrapped in a throw settled in more comfortably and closed his eyes, hoping to forget himself in sleep for at least a little while.
Four years later.
POV from the side
Night began to fall on the districts of Japan's capital, Tokyo. And if for ordinary residents this meant the long-awaited end of the working day and a quick return home, for entertainment establishments and people with legal problems, it was only the beginning of the "work shift." Perhaps the current state of the criminal world could not compare in influence and size with what it was before the appearance of All Might, but as long as there is profit, it will continue to exist and lure into its nets both new "workers" and victims.
A group of five young people walked through one of the empty alleys, laughing merrily. Their leader, judging by the subservient behavior, was a blonde man dressed in a leather jacket and blue jeans, who was currently telling a funny story from his last drinking bout. Until one of his listeners with scale-covered arms noticed a child standing in the middle of the alley.
"Hey, brat, are you lost by any chance? I think it's time for you to go home to Mommy. So get out of here while we're in a good mood."
Stopping, the guys looked at the kid with interest and mockery, expecting him to run away from there in fear. However, ignoring the guy with the scales, the boy in the hoodie looked closely at the blonde and a second later said:
"You're Yakushi 'Solvent', aren't you?"
These words made Yakushi and the surrounding people frown. He disguised himself carefully at every robbery, and he carefully hid his Quirk, which allowed him to dissolve non-living objects, in ordinary life, even managing to change its description in the state database with some help from outsiders. Therefore, the fact that some unknown child recognized him as a villain came as an unpleasant surprise to him.
"Guys, grab the kid; he knows too much. And you, boy, don't resist; the uncles need to have a serious talk with you."
Yakushi said, looking into the boy's red eyes with a cold gaze and feeling a strange anxiety. When the nearby henchman with bony eyebrows headed toward the kid, he quickly looked back, fearing an ambush. But the sound of a falling body quickly returned his attention, and the sight of a knife handle sticking out of the henchman's eye socket made him quickly jump back and reach for the gun under his arm. At that time, the three guys who had frozen for a moment rushed at the red-eyed one. The guy with scales on his hands struck first with his right hand, but the boy with a smooth movement dodged toward the left hand and, ducking under it, cut the axillary vein with a knife in his hand with a sharp movement. One of the remaining pair attacked with a knife in hand, while the other folded his palms in a prayer gesture. The knife owner watches in shock as the opponent's hand harmlessly passing through the knife grabs and jerks the leading hand to the side, but then frantically clutches his slit throat. The remaining person, no longer paying attention to the whimpering of his partner with blood flowing from his armpit, spreads his hands toward the boy, who had suddenly turned out to be deadly dangerous. A cone-shaped stream of fire engulfed one side of the alley. The rising screech of the burning person fell silent almost immediately. The fire Quirk user breathed convulsively, preparing to confirm the death of the opponent or finish him off. The sudden sound of a falling body made him turn around sharply. Yakushi, who had been waiting for a good moment to shoot all the while, was lying unconscious, and a short silhouette already had a gun pointed at him. Attempting to quickly fold his palms, the guy clutches his shot hand with a cry. The boy approaching him suddenly spoke.
"That was close. I didn't expect your Quirk to be so strong. Judging by your past state, you can produce a maximum of two attacks of such strength. But it doesn't matter. Your name is Denki, isn't it? The next thing I do, you won't like. If you weren't a bandit, none of this would have happened. But history does not tolerate the subjunctive mood."
The red-eyed one spoke and grabbed him by the throat. Denki, who wanted to push him away, felt a wave of weakness and cold throughout his body. He watched with fear as bright multi-colored energies, like streams of paint, entered this... this monster. The last thing Denki saw before his vision was swallowed by darkness were crimson, indifferent eyes.