Reaper's Wrath

Part 1

A small scuffling is all the warning I have before a knife is shoved in my spine, then ripped upwards hard.

Agony flares as my nervous system goes nuts, my legs losing all sensation and I collapse, a gasp of shock bursting from my lips.

The knife is pulled from my back and I feel tears filling my eyes.

I recognise the voice.

"I'm sorry Izuku, but you're draining our resources. Without a Quirk you have no use to the group" My mother says, I can hear the coldness in her voice.

Her steps fade away as she rushes down the alley.

I blink, letting the tears fall.

I knew this was coming eventually.

Either someone in the group got rid of me to alleviate the number of bodies eating and drinking.

Or I was grabbed for Nomufication.

It's been six years since All Might died.

The Number 1 Hero. With the physical strength to change the weather with a punch.

Faster than a bullet.

Tougher than a military tank.

All For One killed him.

He's the King of the planet now, there's a few small pockets of earth he's not controlling, though that's simply because he can't be bothered dealing with them since they're small and weak.

A few Heroes wandering here and there to fight back as much as they can.

Small-time Heroes of a time long past.

All For One can steal, use and give Quirks.

Meaning for every Hero he killed, he gained another Quirk.

Every single Hero of the Top Ten of every country couldn't beat him.

He took all of their Quirks, and distributed them amongst his underlings, making an Empire so powerful that it makes the Hero Commission look like a BB Gun beside an automatic rifle.

Groups, like the one I was in, are small factions of people working together to get by each and every day, stealing money, food, clean water.

Anything to let us last another day.

If you don't work for All For One you don't get a job.

If you work for him you get a brand on the back of your left hand.

As my blood seeps from my body, the little heat I've managed to conserve in this cold ass winter dissipated into the air to do nothing.

I feel angry, the world's been against me since I was four years old.

Today I turned 15.

Talk about shitty birthdays.

Dead at fifteen, paralyzed and left to bleed out by my own mother in a near apocalyptic world.

Maybe I'll end up in a better world when I reincarnate.

...

My eyes open and I find myself in courtroom, one half filled with clouds and angels, kindness rolling off it in waves.

And the other a harsh, hot baren rocky place with burning flames and bones.

"Izuku Midoriya, age 15, Male, number of Sins... Zero? Why did he end up here if he hasn't Sinned?" A Red skinned woman with horns and wings asks a man with wings and a halo.