Fractured Wings

The Founder's Torch was a flame older than laws, older than rules, older than reason. It was said to have been lit by a nameless quirk user long before quirks were the great standard they are now. Back when power was fear and difference was a crime. The torch was no ordinary fire; it's light bore no shadow and consumed no fuel. 

It blazed when humanity looked at itself and made a single, radical decision: to accept quirks into society. Some called it a miracle. Others called it a lie. But the torch burned, steadfast, as generations folded upon generations, a symbol of a singular, fragile truth: progress requires belief. 

The flame had moved, of course, from it's original place on some forgotten mountaintop. Now it rested in the hall of integration in Hosu City, guarded and revered. It had survived wars and storms and moments of great despair. And now, as we carried it in this endless game-world, it struck me how heavy something weightless could feel. 

The tunnel stretched before us, it's walls close. Kodai was holding the torch's base like it was an anchor. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, her quiet determination radiating like it's own light. 

"We should probably figure out what we're supposed to do with this," she said. 

I nodded, thinking. The torch was an objective, sure but it wasn't like there was an instruction manual tied to it. It just was. A burning piece of history, waiting for another purpose. 

The thing was quite long and broad too, so it was noticeable to the wrong crowd. 

"Let's ask the Bug for the location we put it in." I said, almost on a whim. As soon as the words left my mouth, the air shimmered ahead of us, and that infernal, grinning mascot of Daigo Kiyoshi's whimsy materialized. It's oversized segmented eyes glinted with unsettling delight. 

"Congratulations!" it chirped. "The Founder's Torch must be placed at the plaza, in the heart of Hosu City. Once placed, it becomes immovable—an external fixture of the game!" 

The Bug vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving a silence heavy with it's absence. Kodai's brow raised. "The center. That's not far from here." 

"Guess we're walking some more then." I said, 

Kodai's lips pressed into a thin line before she spoke again. "Maybe I can shrink it. Make it small enough to fit in one of our pockets." 

"That's a good idea." I admitted. I watched as she used her quirk, the wooden torch compressing down into something the size of a finger. She slid it into her pocket like it was nothing more than a pen. 

We moved on, our footsteps echoing louder as the tunnel widened and spilled us out into a market-like square. The buildings were skeletal and hollow, their signs and banners eerily pristine but utterly devoid of life. The air smelled faintly of damp stone, the kind of stillness that makes you feel like you've stumbled into a place that's been forgotten. 

Kodai broke the silence, her voice quieter now. "You know, that last rule... the one that says we'll be teleported to random places every three days... I don't know what I'll do once we split up."

I stopped walking, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her tone. She didn't look at me when she said it, her gaze fixed on some indeterminate point in the distance. "I'll find you." I said. The certainty in my voice startled. 

She finally looked at me, one eyebrow. "You sound confident." 

I shrugged, though inside I was a mess of contradictions. I didn't know why I was being so cooperative, so... clingy. It wasn't like me. And yet here I was. 

I held out my hand and conjured a piece of paper, folding it meticulously, letting my thoughts run on instinct. I moulded it into a small bracelet with sharp wing like attachments at the bottom. 

"Here," I said, holding it out to her. "As long as you have this on you, I can find you. It even works at a far off distance." 

She reached out to take it, her fingers brushed mine. The rain that had followed us earlier had stopped, and now the sun broke through the clouds, casting it's light over the abandoned market. The bracelet seemed to glow around her hands. 

"Thank you," she said, her voice almost too soft to hear. 

I nodded, unsure of what else to say. Watching her walk with it around her wrist stirred something in me. It felt odd, fragile and dangerous at the same time. 

*** 

The journey to the heart of Hosu unfolded like a wandering though—unhurried and scattered, with Kodai's voice weaving in and out of my focus. The city around us was a surreal dreamscape of quiet streets and forgotten storefronts, the rain-washed pavement shimmering faintly in the sunlight. It felt like walking through a painting no one had finished. 

Kodai, for her part, filled the silence with memories of a world that I hadn't been a part of. Her time at UA, her classmates, the people who made her feel welcomed. She spoke of Tetsutetsu's optimism and bravery, a guy named Neito Monoma and his relentless drive to be better. And of Kendo, of her kindness and inclusiveness. 

"I interned with a hero named Blackbelt you know," she told me at one point, her tone carrying a touch of pride. "He's this martial arts hero. Real strange guy, but he knows his stuff. I wanted to learn how to hold my own without relying on my quirk too much. Messing with the size of things is handy, but it doesn't stop someone from knocking you on your butt." 

I chuckled at that, "Sounds like you've taken a few hits." 

"More than a few," she replied, laughing lightly. "But I was getting the hang of it. Then... this happened." her smile faltered for just a moment, before she shook it off. "I guess I should be glad I've some training. You know, in case we have to fight again." 

"We probably will the longer we're out here." I said bluntly, I doubt she wanted to hear that but I didn't think about it before speaking. 

"How do you look at this whole situation? Other than just some crazy guy dumping people in his playground." she asked. 

I shrugged, "I don't. I just take it as it comes." 

That earned me a side-eye, but she didn't press it further. 

We walked on, the directions from the Bug guiding us further like a thread. The landscape shifted from tight alleys and abandoned storefronts to broader streets, their edges lined with silent statues and faded murals. Finally we reached the plaza, dominated by a marble statue standing tall in the center. 

It depicted a woman cradling a baby. Her form was detailed, the folds of her robes flowing with impossible grace, but her face was blank. Smooth and expressionless, as though waiting for someone to carve and identity into her. The baby being cradled in her arms mirrored her facelessness, and the sight of it made my chest tighten. 

Kodai stepped forward, her hand sliding into her pocket. She retrieved the torch, now small and unassuming, and stared at the holder carved into the base of the statue. 

"This is it." she said softly, more to herself than to me. She placed the torch into a holder, and the moment she let it go and pressed her hands together, it expanded to it's original size. A brilliant light erupted from it, and the flame took hold, flickering with an intensity that seemed to challenge even the sun itself. 

Then the sound came sharp, a resonating blare that shook the air itself. Kodai flinched, and I instinctively stepped closer, my body tense. The Bug appeared overhead, grinning wide as ever. 

"{Attention players! An item has been placed in it's rightful place: The founder's Torch! one out of three objects secured. Keep up the good work!}" 

The message repeated across the city, then faded as quickly as it had come. Kodai turned to me, her face lit up with a smile. "We did it," she said, the joy in her voice clear. 

"Yeah," I said, unable to keep a small smile off my face. Her happiness was contagious, and for a brief moment, it felt like we'd won something. 

But then the air shifted. It wasn't sound or sight that had tipped me off. It was a feeling. A faint prickle against the back of my neck. My smile faltered, and I turned, scanning the plaza. 

And he was there. Watching us. 

The Hero Killer, Stain. 

He stood at the edge of the plaza, partially hidden by the shadow of a half collapsed building. He still had a crimson scarf, although it looked as though he had recently received it. It was heavy around his neck with rain, or blood, I couldn't tell which. His clothing almost matched what he wore the night I fought him with Midoriya and Todoroki. 

And his eyes... those eyes cut through the space between us like knives. 

Stain's gaze was locked on to me, unblinking, unyielding. 

My heart hammered, but I wasn't afraid. Not exactly. Fear would have made me run, and I wasn't running. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I simply stood my ground, staring back at him as the weight of his presence settled over me. 

Kodai noticed my stillness and followed my gaze. Her breath caught when she saw him. 

"Kobe..." she began, but I raised a hand silencing her. 

Stain didn't move. But he then spoke. 

"Good work Sōryū." He said, his voice was rough, like gravel grinding beneath steel-toed boots. "The founder's torch. One step closer to freedom." 

Kodai shifted beside me, her stance firm, but I could feel the feint tremor in her movements. She wasn't afraid, not exactly, but standing before someone like him wasn't the same as facing nameless villains. Stain was something else entirely. 

"But freedom is not enough," he continued. "There's still work to do, even here. The game is full of them, fakes, opportunists, those who wear the title of hero like a badge but don't understand the weight of it. They tarnish the very idea and I exist to weed them out." 

Kodai stepped forward, surprising me. Her voice was steady, but there was a sharpness to it, a defiance that cut through the silence. "Killing everyone who doesn't fit your ideal won't bring the society you are hoping for." 

Stain tilted his head, his smile vanishing. "Is that so?" 

"Yes," she said firmly. "You talk about fake heroes, but how does leaving bodies in your wake fix anything? How would that inspire the change you claim to want?" 

For a moment, the plaza felt frozen, as though time itself held it's breath. Then Stain's focus shifted entirely to Kodai, his expression unreadable. 

"What motivates you girl?" he asked her, his voice low and deliberate. "What keeps you walking the hero path when so many others lose their way?" 

The question was left to hang in the air, ready to fall. Kodai hesitated, her brow furrowing as if she were searching for the right words, but before she could speak, I stepped in front of her, blocking his view. 

"Don't answer him." I said, my tone sharper than I intended. 

Stain's laugh was abrupt and loud, a sound that carried no mirth. "Protective aren't you?" he said, his gaze boring into me now. "But I'm not here to fight, not now. I've said my piece. Getting out of this place sooner will be better for us all." 

His eyes lingered on me for a beat longer, and then he turned. The tails of his scarf trailed behind him as he disappeared into ruins, his form swallowed by the shadows as though he'd never been there at all. 

For a few moments, none of us spoke. The silence pressed down, heavy and suffocating, until Kodai exhaled sharply and slumped forward. 

"I don't like that guy." she muttered in a blunt tone. 

I caught her by the arm, steadying her before she could completely collapse. "Easy," I said, guiding her toward the base of the statue so she could sit down. 

"But it's not just him," she continued. "This whole game is wearing me out." 

I crouched down beside her and stared at the ground. "You'll last." 

She gave me a feint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. I stayed silent, unsure if she wanted to talk more or just sit there and breathe. 

My thoughts drifted back to Stain, to the way his words clung to me like burrs. He had so much conviction to him that it was hard to ignore him, no matter how much I disagreed with his methods. But he was a hunter, cutting a bloody path through the game to uphold his twisted sense of justice. 

He unnerved me. 

He'd talked about fake heroes, about clearing the board of those who didn't deserve the title. I wasn't sure where I fell in his warped hierarchy. I wasn't a hero. Not in the way Kodai and her classmates were becoming. I didn't fight for justice or for peace. 

I fought for truth. 

The Eden Project. The experiments. The lives stolen and reshaped under the guise of progress. 

That was my goal. That was what mattered. 

I wanted out of this game as much as anyone, but not to save lives or make the world a better place. I wanted to rip away the veil, to show the world what had been done to me. 

Stain's rhetoric lingered in my mind as I helped Kodai to her feet, his presence as vivid as if he were still standing there. 

Freedom's not enough. 

But, one thing at a time.