Death Paradox 💥BAKUDEKU💥

Threads of Destiny

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. "

-Madeline Miller

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Threads of Destiny

The room stretched wide, shadowed by dim light, an eerie silence hanging heavy, shattered only by the relentless clash of wills. Izuku Midoriya, his battered and bloodied form scarcely holding together, faced off against Flect Turn, the ruthless mastermind behind Humarise. His tattered costume, torn and singed, clung to his wounded body, a canvas of pain and defiance.

Izuku's chest heaved with effort, with exhaustion threatening to pull him under. But in his determined gaze, there was no surrender. Not now. Not ever. This wasn't just a battle of physical prowess; it was a battle of ideals, a clash of convictions. He refused to give up when his ideals clashed so violently with Flect's conviction in the twisted Quirk Doomsday Theory, a theory that lacked concrete evidence. And Izuku would not excuse the genocide Flect intended to commit.

Their voices, raw with passion and anger, had long filled the cavernous hall with their heated argument. Izuku's body bore a collection of cuts and bloody gashes. Among them was a jagged cut oozing crimson across his left forearm from a desperate block against one of Flect's devastating energy attacks. The skin around it was inflamed, and the torn fabric of his costume clung to the wound as it pulsed with pain.

A deep gash on his right thigh bore witness to a close encounter with Flect's razor-sharp weapons. Blood trickled down his leg, mixing with the dirt and grime on the cavern floor, while the torn costume hung in shreds around the injury. Blood and sweat intermingled on his furrowed brow, painting a grim portrait of his unyielding resolve. Flect, still standing tall, shot an icy glare, his resolve an eerie specter in his luminescent eyes.

He needed to anticipate Flect's next move, to find a way past his Quirk, Reflect. A menacing power, capable of turning his own attacks against him.

Every punch he threw felt like a heavy burden on his battered body, like swinging a sledgehammer with every ounce of his being. Pain coursed through his limbs, as if needles were being stabbed into his wounds and joints, so painful it felt like needles were puncturing his very soul, but surrender was never an option. He couldn't afford to let Flect's twisted vision become a reality. He couldn't let him reflect his attacks forever, there had to be limits to his quirk. Izuku had to find a way to break through.

He understood every moment counted; every decision could be the turning point of this battle. Summoning the last shreds of his strength, Izuku lunged forward. He knew he was the only one standing between Flect and his monstrous plans. He had to give it everything he had, no matter the cost.

Unbeknownst to Izuku, his valiant efforts had attracted the attention of a malevolent presence, a consciousness born from the twisted ambitions of All For One. Fatebreaker, as it now called itself, watched from the shadows with an unsettling mixture of fascination and resentment. It could feel the energy radiating from Izuku, the power that was well on its way to lead him to be one of the world's greatest heroes.

As Fatebreaker's ruby eyes bore into Izuku, a seething jealousy began to bubble within its twisted consciousness. It despised the hero's purity, his ability to inspire hope even in the darkest of times. Fatebreaker had been born from hatred, a byproduct of All For One's malevolent experiments, and it thrived on negativity.

Izuku's relentless determination was a stark contrast to Fatebreaker's own existence, and the consciousness found itself yearning for something it had never known: a sense of purpose, a connection to someone or something greater. The desire to taint that purity, to snuff out the beacon of hope, grew stronger with every passing moment.