[DISCONTINUED] Shattered Chains: A Hero's Beginning / Male Reader x MHA

[PROLOGUE] Chapter 1: Shadows of Desolation

The bitter chill of the night seeped deep into the alleys, painting the city in a frigid hue as darkness blanketed the streets. Each icy gust carried with it an aura of desolation, whispering tales of hardship to those who dared venture out into the cold embrace. The frosty breath of winter clung to the dilapidated buildings, casting an ethereal pallor over the forgotten corners of the city. Amidst this frozen landscape, a lone figure sought solace, hidden within the shadows that danced with the rhythm of the biting wind.

The cold whispers of the night seeped into Y/N's tattered clothes as he huddled in a dimly lit alley, seeking refuge from the unforgiving world. For years, the streets had been his home, a harsh realm where survival was a daily battle. Each passing day etched new scars on his weathered frame, a testament to the relentless hardships he had endured.

Y/N had learned firsthand the harsh realities of life in the shadows. In the darkest hours, when the city slept, he became prey to the cruelty of thugs and villains. Nights were filled with moments of terror as he navigated treacherous encounters that left him beaten, bloodied, and abandoned in the desolate alleyways.

Scars, both physical and emotional, adorned Y/N's body, each one a reminder of the violence inflicted upon him. He had endured merciless attacks, his frail form at the mercy of heartless assailants. There were nights when he had been outnumbered, overpowered, and left for dead, the echoes of his desperate pleas for mercy lost in the empty streets.

But Y/N refused to succumb to despair. He had become resilient, his survival instinct honed to a razor's edge. He knew the art of evading danger, slipping through the shadows like a wisp of smoke, always one step ahead of the predators lurking in the night.

The scars he carried were not just physical reminders of his struggles, but also emotional burdens that weighed heavily on his soul. He had tasted the bitter truth of a society that turned a blind eye to his suffering. Passersby, consumed by their own lives, dismissed Y/N as a mere inconvenience, stepping over him with indifference. His pleas for help were met with apathy, his existence erased by the callousness of the world.

Y/N's heart had grown cold, the flickers of trust extinguished by the repeated betrayals he had endured. He had learned that relying on others was a luxury he could not afford. In this unforgiving world, he was his own saviour, his own shield against the storm.

And so, Y/N had honed his instincts, his senses perpetually alert to the lurking dangers that emerged with the darkness. Each night was a relentless battle for survival, a test of their endurance and resilience. He had become adept at finding temporary shelter in the nooks and crannies of the city, always cautious of the threats that lay in wait for him.

The scars on his body served as a testament to his indomitable spirit, a reminder of the battles fought and won. But deep within, Y/N yearned for more than mere survival. He longed for a life beyond the streets, where he could find solace, purpose, and a place to truly belong.

Little did he know that destiny had a different plan in store for him. As the night unfolded and Y/N sought shelter in the rundown storage shed, an encounter with an unknown figure would set into motion a series of events that would alter the course of his existence forever.