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Tomura held a weight around his neck, his thin arms, his dazed head, and slender waist, so heavy that it felt like the entirety of his body was composed of rotting metal, from his bones to his twisted stomach. The hands that once wrapped themselves, tenderly yet maliciously, to his weakened body were only a few meters away from him, lying damaged in the rubble of the city. They blended well with the rest of the trash.

 

He stumbled sluggishly around large debris; he almost missed the painted plant pots scattered in what used to be the backyard of a family's home, destroyed to its very foundation by Detnerat's stress bomb. He tumbled to his knees after slipping over a family portrait. In its golden frame it depicted a cheery couple of children sitting restlessly in the laps of their calm and patient parents. The mother's hand sat atop the son's shoulder, while the father let his hands fall back behind the waist of the daughter. From his position on the floor, Tomura made out what looked to be an All Might figurine smartly hidden in the shadows of the portrait, in the chubby hands of the son. He looked back at Tomura with a smile so innocent and gleeful it almost made him want to smile back. The daughter had her legs crossed, her arms folded, and a repressed grin that most likely formed when she witnessed her brother's antics. At first glance, this family was the epitome of perfect.

 

He trained his eyes to the father and vaguely recognized him as one of the men that ran towards him in response to Hanabata's speech. He killed the man, of course. He had an itching feeling those children would never smile like that again.

 

Good riddance.

 

Decidedly bored of watching grass grow, Tomura pushed his legs to carry his body about half a meter before he fell once more, this time on a soft, flat surface, most likely a futon, and finally allowed his eyes to close. The ground hadn't stopped shaking ever since that humoungous, stupid beast rumbled to town, no doubt catching the attention of heroes, and even in the aftermath of his confrontation with Gigantomachia in which he succeeded in having the monster succumb to his rule, the screams and roars echoed through Tomura' s displeased ears. If only that lunatic would shut up for once, then maybe he may have a chance to fall asleep.

 

Sleep.

 

It took him a few attempts, twisting and turning in his own blood and sweat, before he laid his bruised back onto the surface, removing the drenched black coat sticking to his skin. When was the last time he slept? His droopy eyes, as tired and tightly sealed as they were, begged to be opened once more, and when he stared at the winter sky, Tomura saw colors in places they shouldn't have been. He saw faces that shouldn't have looked down on him. He thought he saw the face of his own master, the signature crooked smile comforting his sight despite his heart aching in disgust. All For One had done everything to make sure Tomura became the greatest villain in existence, even greater than the ruler of the underworld himself. The man had placed his hand to help a starving, frightened child when no one else would, when not even his own blood would look him in his eye that day in the yard. As soon as his brain made the connection that the visions he was having were probably delusions, his eyes were shut right and his mouth closed in a frown.

 

All For One was the most despicable, horrendous, cynical man in history, and even then it would be unfair to refer to him as human. The sun burned his eyelids, and when Tomura switched positions again, his side felt a rolling bump in his pockets. Father. Willing his distrustful eyes to see once more, Tomura carefully pulled out his father's hand and instinctively rubbed the dead, cold fingers over is face. But he didn't place it in its normal position. He let the pads of the index finger linger over his cheek and circle around the scar on his lips, under his neck, then carried it away. Every bit of sensation became a boiling hurricane in his gut. How repulsive. His own father. His mother. Grandparents. Hana.

 

And with the simple motion of his finger, all five of his digits grabbed hold of the fake hand, the false memories, the lies he'd been living with for the past decade, and in a matter of seconds disintegrated them to bits, along with the supposed hand of his father.

 

Voices of concern flowed in and out of Tomura's mind. He didn't really care about them at the moment. The battle had been won; the Liberation Army was destroyed, Gigantomachia was in his control, and none of his allies had died. Toga, according to the Twice clones, had not yet woken from her injuries, but as long as the doctor had the initiative to work on her health immediately, he had no doubt she would make it out alive. Dabi had defeated his opponent in a brilliant display of flames, Twice had exacted his revenge on one of the leaders, Giran had been protected throughout the majority of the fight, Mr. Compress took care of the members' safety, and Spinner had performed incredibly to delay an onslaught of attacks that could have jeopardized the outcome.

 

Tomura's chest swirled with newly unlocked and unknown emotions, but pride was undoubtedly one of the biggest ones filling his heart. This was his new family, whether they thought that themselves or not. They were loyal to him and only to him. And he loved them. He truly loved them.

 

For the first time since he was five years old, Tomura Shigaraki could genuinely feel love towards something, no matter how little the emotion managed to manifest on his face. He didn't smile, and even if he had felt the urge, every muscle in his body refused to move. He didn't feel elated or over the moon.

 

But he was no longer filled with hate, at least in the sense that he disregarded everyone else's thoughts but his own. His body was heavy but his mind was clear. He remembered everything. He suddenly melted into the warm comfort of the futon when a rough hand shook his body in the opposite direction. Dabi's eyes shone in the late night light, with a certain emotion Tomura couldn't pinpoint at the moment. In his haze, and only for a second, he wondered if anyone in the world could come to please him the way Dabi and his ragtag team had done today. He couldn't care less. Everything else could burn to the ground in ashes. The League of Villains would be the ones to come out on top of the heroes. And that was his goal.

 


 

"Well, I can't say that I wasn't expecting you to win, kid, but I'll admit, you really impressed me with the rampage you caused back there."

 

The doctor was as chatty as ever this morning. Tomura wondered how his master had gotten along so easily with this crazed maniac. Thinking of old habits, he raised one hand to scratch at the rings of his eyes and was quickly surprised to notice he had only two fingers to scratch with. Right, the fight in Deika. He searched around the sheets of his bed for the hand that usually accompanied him, the one that grabbed at his face in discipline and made him submit to its word, and when he realized it's remains were left behind in the city where he would never see that flesh-like piece of garbage ever again, he chuckled a childlike noise under his breath. It was liberating.

 

"So you lost the hands, huh?" the doctor remarked, seated at a wide desk in the corner of the room. It was a part of the secret laboratory the doctor had first teleported them to a month ago, but it was hidden from the glass tubes containing the high-end nomus. Tomura craned his neck and spotted Toga's blonde hair springing from the pillow on the adjacent bed. He recalled Twice being extremely worried her youthful face would be forever damaged, and unfortunately for Jin, he would probably wail in discouragement tomorrow when her bandages would come off and the scars fail to heal. He scratched his own scars with one singular finger, his eyes returning back to the hunched form of the doctor.

 

"You know, All For One did that for you . So you could grow without remembering. He spared you the horrors of your past "

 

"Shut your mouth," Tomura muttered back. "Don't try to hide that smirk from me, doc."

 

The bearded man swirled in his chair and finally faced Tomura with deceitful eyes. Behind the green spectacles, Ujiko was certainly embracing the look of utter betrayal on Tomura's face ever since he had woken up. They played him. They all did.

 

Ujiko laughed heartily and stood up. "This won't be the first time you'll be lied to. And don't tell me it wasn't a genius idea." What a shitty atmosphere. Tomura almost wishes he could be in Toga's position. "And anyhow, now that you've gained my confidence and resources, it's time I ask you one more question. What do you want to do, Shigaraki?"

 

Yes. He was in charge now. The fate of the country, of the world, was solely in his hands. There would be no future which he had not yet decided. "How are the bullets coming along?"

 

"They're ready for mass production. I suppose your broker will be pleased to have his hands on some of these gadgets, huh?" Right. My broker.

 

"Mhm. I've got a few favors to ask of him as well. And what about the power you've been preparing?"

 

The doctor practically bounced in his seat. "All yours."

 

"Then I know exactly what we're going to do next." Up until now, Tomura's only goal was to bring down All Might and hero society, to watch it collapse under its own weight, and laugh at the fear the new world has been plunged into. A new age of darkness. Under his rule. "We'll have to prepare tremendously before taking on such a high level mission, but if the game has allowed us entry into this path, then it judged that we were ready to face it."

 

"Oh?" At long last, the smile that had crept its way under his face muscles let's itself loose. The doctor was ecstatic .

 

"We're headed for Tartarus. All For One has something that belongs to me. "