Mha oc

Breaking.

You should listen to Oceans (where my feet fail) for this one.

The battlefield was chaos, littered with debris and echoing with the distant sounds of combat. Smoke hung heavy in the air, and I barely noticed the stench of burning as I stood over Dad's crumpled form. My chest ached, constricted by an emotion I couldn't fully name, but it was sharp and raw, tearing at my edges like a fraying thread.

I ran to him. Nothing else mattered. Not the Nomu, not the villains, not the chaos around me. Just him.

Kneeling down, I slipped one arm beneath his shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him gently but with an iron resolve. The Nomu had done this to him, slammed him into the ground like he was nothing, and the thought of it made my jaw clench tightly.

But my face didn't show the anger. It was hollow, almost serene in its emptiness. My focus was singular: protect.

The weight of Dad's body in my arms felt heavier than it should have, and my legs trembled slightly as I stood. The world around me dimmed, as if it knew better than to disturb this moment.

Something broke inside of me then, deep and silent. A crack in the wall I'd carefully built around my emotions.

Holding him close, I whispered, my voice barely audible over the chaos:
"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters. Wherever You would call me..."

My voice shook, and my fingers instinctively curled around the small cross necklace tucked under my shirt. I wasn't religious—never had been—but now? Now, I was desperate, grasping at anything that might keep Dad breathing.

"Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior..."

The prayer was quiet, raw, and full of cracks, as if my soul itself were breaking open and spilling out with each word. Tears streaked silently down my face, cutting through the ash and grime clinging to my skin.

With shaking hands, I pulled his scarf from where it had fallen, draping it over my own head like a hood. It settled heavily around my shoulders, its weight grounding me as I began to walk.

Something shifted.

I could feel my quirk humming under my skin, sharper and more rigid than ever before. The barrier surrounding us wasn't just protection anymore—it was dangerous. Its edges shimmered like blades, and the first villain who dared step too close screamed as they were impaled before being flung away.

I didn't stop. I didn't flinch. I just kept walking, the scarf draped over me, Dad in my arms.

My pace was steady, deliberate, and each step seemed to reverberate with the unspoken promise of violence. Villains approached me, but they didn't last long. My barrier didn't waver, slicing through them with a precision that was cold and unrelenting.

For once, I wasn't cocky. I wasn't sarcastic. My expression was blank, my green-gold eyes hollow as they stared ahead. Each breath felt heavier than the last, but I didn't dare stop.

The sight of me sent chills through allies and enemies alike—a boy carrying his father, wrapped in the very scarf that symbolized him, surrounded by a shimmering, deadly shield. I must have looked like a revenant, an avenging ghost walking through the ruins of battle.

When I finally reached safety, my knees buckled, but I didn't fall. Instead, I carefully laid Dad down, my fingers trembling as I brushed a stray strand of hair from his face.

"Don't die on me," I whispered, the hollow echo of my voice cracking with raw emotion. "I'm not ready."

For a moment, I sat there, the world spinning around me, the edges of my vision blurring. But I didn't cry again. My tears had dried, leaving behind only a fierce, desperate determination.

The medics rushed toward me, their voices a blur of urgency. I lowered him onto the stretcher, my hands reluctant to let go.

The scarf slipped from my head as I leaned down, brushing a hand through his hair.

"I carried you, Dad," I whispered, my voice cracking. "You're safe now."

And then, for the first time, the tears came.