A Single Strand of DNA- Kaminari Denki's Revival

INTERLUDES II: Four-Dimensional Beings in a 3D Box.

INTERLUDES II: The Boxes Society Puts Us in is Nothing to a Being Who Thinks in Four Dimensions.

INTERLUDE ONE: Ouruboros

Tomura Shigaraki is many things, but an idiot is not one of them.

Eight years ago, when he was twelve, his world changed. There was a dream, a night, something beyond his comprehension- and when he awoke, he remembered. He remembered the cries, the screams, the anger, the pain, the doubt, the animosity, the unbridled odium of his quirk's awakening. He had no idea why he suddenly just knew what had happened to his family, but that didn't matter. His sister's crying, his father's abuse, his mother's helplessness- all of that was in the past. Tomura accepted what he had done, and moved on. Now, his family's hands, the ones that covered his body and hid him from the world, weren't there as a comfort. No, they were a constant reminder of his true goal.

The destruction of this society, at any cost.

That included All For One.

Yes, Tomura loved his master- even after finding out how he manipulated the young and helpless blue-haired boy. But his master, the fabled quirk thief, was a part of this society- no matter how Tomura tried to spin it, All For One is to the darkness what All Might is to the light. So, when it's time to tear the world down to build it anew, All For One would have to go as well.

When Tomura stands amongst the ashes, clearing a path to nurture the sapling of a new and improved universe, it shall be both One for All and All for One that lie dead at his feet.

This was a dangerous game, though. If his master caught wind of his true goal, then Tomura would be dead before he could even think about running. For now, he had to play the part of a loyal acolyte, destroying simply for the sake of evil and darkness. That was alright- he could get rid of the heroes, and then, once he had enough strength, get rid of All For One.

The lanky, almost emaciated pupil stretched, murderous hands reaching far behind his back as he leaned on the bar stool. It was eleven in the morning now, and according to his first and most supportive friend and ally, UA's lunch break was coming right up. Perfect- he would officially debut to the world tomorrow. Today, though, he'd plant the seed of doubt into the hearts of the heroes.

Getting up from the stool, Tomura flexed his fingers, the elongated, bony digits almost twitching with excitement. They knew what was coming- destruction, death, and pain. The itch would be quelled, for now. His neck was burning, pain lacing up and down the sides, up and down, up and down- his fingers twitched. He wanted to scratch- he needed to scratch- to destroy, to rend, to attack, to assault- he needed to DESTROY.

Tomura gritted his teeth, shaking as he repressed his quirk's desire. It was a constant battle between man and nature, an unwinnable war against something that was etched into his very being. A normal person would have bent long ago, taken the razor to the wrist or let his own hands wrap around his neck. But Tomura was anything but normal. That did not come from anything gifted to him, it was not because of a quirk, or something supernatural. No, what made Tomura abnormal was his strength. Not of mind, but of soul.

When Tomura was set on something, he would tear down all in his path to achieve it. It did not matter if he had to rip the mountains from the earth or pluck the moon from the sky- if he wanted it, he would find a way. He would not let something as simple as his own biology hold him back. He took the puppeteer's strings his quirk had over him, and used them as chains to hold it in place. He was in control. No one would take that from him. Tomura is in control.

His hands still, yielding to him. Tomura sighs, as his neck remains unmarked. He would scratch the itch soon- the one in his heart, rather than on his skin.