The Force Of Nature

incident

The Midoriya household was eerily quiet in the dead of night, the faint hum of streetlights outside the only sound breaking the stillness. Izuku's dreams had been restless, a whirl of fragmented images and whispers that she couldn't fully grasp. The unease in her chest grew heavier until a muffled noise jolted her awake.

Her heart raced as she sat up, her breathing uneven. The sound came again—a thud followed by faint voices. Something was wrong. She slipped out of bed, the chill of the wooden floor biting at her feet as she padded toward the door.

Peeking out into the hallway, she noticed faint light spilling from the living room downstairs. The voices grew clearer—harsh, unfamiliar tones that made her stomach twist.

She crept down the stairs, her small hands gripping the banister tightly. What she saw when she reached the bottom made her breath catch in her throat.

Six figures moved through the living room, their shadows casting jagged shapes across the walls. They rummaged through drawers, overturned furniture, and stuffed belongings into bags with careless urgency.

In the corner, her mother, Inko, lay crumpled on the floor, her form barely recognizable under the dim light. Blood seeped from a wound on her forehead, staining the carpet beneath her. One of the men stood over her, his gaze dark and leering as he muttered something to the others.

Izuku's hands trembled as she clung to the edge of the staircase. Her mind screamed at her to move, to do something, but her body refused to obey.

Then the man knelt down, his rough hand trailing over Inko's face. "Pretty thing, isn't she?" he said, his voice dripping with malice. His companions chuckled, their laughter cruel and hollow.

He began to tug at the fabric of Inko's clothing, and something inside Izuku snapped. The terror that had frozen her melted away, replaced by a searing rage so intense it felt like her very soul was on fire.

Her vision blurred, darkened, until the world seemed to warp around her. Her pupils expanded, consuming the green of her irises, until her eyes were pools of pitch-black void rimmed with stark white. The air around her grew thick and oppressive, charged with an energy that felt foreign and wrong.

She opened her mouth to scream, but what emerged was not the cry of a child. It was an unearthly sound—a guttural, distorted wail that seemed to vibrate through the walls and floor, piercing the intruders' ears like shards of glass.

The man kneeling over Inko froze mid-motion, his body rigid. His eyes widened as he stared at Izuku, his expression shifting from confusion to terror.

In his mind, the world around him fractured, the living room dissolving into a swirling void of shadow and chains. He looked down at himself and gasped in horror. His adult body was gone, replaced by a small, childlike form.

"What... What's happening?" he stammered, his voice high-pitched and trembling.

The void shifted, revealing the source of the chains. Above him loomed an incomprehensible figure—a cosmic spider the size of a moon, its many eyes glowing like distant stars. Its presence was overwhelming, a weight pressing down on his very existence.

The chains stretched across the void, connecting to the spider's massive form. The sound of chittering filled the air as countless smaller spiders emerged, their legs clicking as they crawled toward him.

"No! Stay away!" he screamed, thrashing against the chains that bound him.

The spiders swarmed over his small body, their fangs sinking into his flesh. Pain erupted in waves as they injected a venom that burned like fire. His screams echoed endlessly, but the void offered no reprieve.