My Fanfic Stash and Favorite online quests

Words: 56k+

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16870942/chapters/39617728

(When Izuku Midoriya was eight years old. He learned one of his first 'truths' of the world.

Not all men are equal.

When he was nine, he had a crisis of faith.

When he was ten, he found a second passion.

He found the stars.)

Chapter 1: Sparks

Chapter Text

Izuku lay on his bed, mood dark and thoughts wandering into strange eddies as he considered life. To be specific, his own life.

He had no quirk.

The idea of being a hero seemingly moved farther and farther day by day, as the world seemed to shave away at it, chipping at the gleam of heroism.

Mockery over his lack of a quirk.

Normally he ignored it, but today had been long and the whispers and rumors plentiful.

"If I'm not a hero… what would I be?"

Izuku didn't know.

"Today we're moving onto the science of the Solar System!" Hana-sensei sketched quick kanji across the board at the front of the room, a simple diagram of the solar system hung to the side, a visual aid to the solar system. Planets and orbits sketched and annotated with interesting short facts.

Izuku paid close attention, even as Hana-sensei went into the basic overview. Gravity, how the planets and various asteroids orbiting each other…

But then his pen paused, eyes locking on what she was writing even as her words began to echo in his head.

"-since the appearance of quirks, space exploration has been set to the back burner. The last major advancement was the NASA Opportunity Rover, which explored the surface of Mars early at the turn of the millennium. However, with the development of quirks, resources and general research and scientific studies turned inwards form our solar system to the strange phenomenon that flows through us even today!"

Izuku found himself speaking up before she moved on.

"So…. what's the current state of Space Exploration? Is anyone still sending things up to space?"

A half second of surprise at Izuku's comment, before she responded. "Unfortunately, the majority of space programs were defunded by the early 2040s, deemed as distractions and superfluous compared to the surging number of Quirked people during that era."

Izuku frowned slightly, tapping his pen on his notebook, even as he mentally began to distance himself from his class once more.

He felt it, sticking and tumbling in the back of his mind even as he resumed taking basic notes.

He was still distracted.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but instead of going home. Izuku took a turn for the library. He didn't have much homework to do… but he had questions and wanted answers.

Izuku all but slammed another book closed and shoved it aside, resting his hands on his head as his thoughts race.

Four hours of research, from the computer to the books, to scientific journals.

There was nothing.

"What the fuck?"  He hissed under his breath, deeming the situation fucked enough to swear.

Izuku pushed off from the desk with a scowl, and stalked back through the nonfiction section of the library, reaching out and grabbing any book on advanced physics or propulsion, or history of invention or exploration, when he had another six in hand he returned and started paging through them with a fervor, referencing appendixes and glossaries for space flight and associated topics.

He had been at it for hours already, having come to the library early on his day off.

Frustrated, he leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts racing.

The problem? Space exploration had been shut down and abandoned in favor of quirks, despite the leaps and changes in technology in the last 200 years. advanced fabrication, creative and exoteric materials, better fuel and environmental studies and solutions. all of which were steps towards sustainable space flight... But none of it was hooked together, pushed to the conclusion.

A solution, a logical and easy way out of this mess of a dilemma he found himself in, was…missing.

The idea he did have…. was audacious. Insane. Absolutely bonkers.

So why did he find himself reaching for an empty notebook?

"... Horizon… #1."

Izuku stared at his handwriting, before looking down at the table of books.

And deep inside his soul, the spark of passion lit up once more.

After all, people say it's impossible to be a hero without a quirk.

What's one more impossible dream?

4 years later

"Midoriya, you want to go to UA too, right?"

The sound of laughter dragged Izuku's attention up from his desk, where a notebook and a fairly advanced physics textbook were open before him.

Green eyes locked with the teacher in confusion. They were talking about future careers… and Izuku had zoned out.

Shit. what should he say– "Uhhh… yeah. I want to go to UA."

A creaking sound echoed from the shifting form of Bakugou in front of him.

Oh.

Shit.

"WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY SHITTY N–"

Before Kacchan could get up in his face, he slid his notebook and textbook into his bag to the side of the desk with a practiced ease, even as he shrunk back, eyes half closed to block the flash of the explosion in the center of his desk.

As his desk was blown to the side, Bakugou grabbed the collar of Izuku's shirt.

"FUCKING HEAD-IN-THE-STARS MORONS LIKE YOU CAN NEVER BE A HERO! YOU'RE QUIRKLESS AND WEAK AND FUCKING DELUSIONAL!"

Used to this, Izuku bit back the swell of muttered words that boiled in his throat. That his dreams were possible. N ot just by focus and  drive, but by numbers, by statistics and math and Science.

Instead, he looked away, face neutral even as his teeth ground tight in the back of his jaw.

To calm himself, he focused on a design. A ring. Spinning on an orb at a specific speed, with a specific rotation.

As the teacher shouted for order, Izuku was shoved back and out of his seat, as Bakugou turned back to his seat.

"Fucking airheaded moron."

Sighing under his breath, Izuku shoved his desk into place as the teacher started the lesson.

Of course, when school ended, Izuku wasn't quite fast enough.

Standing up after the beating that Bakugou and his cronies dished out, Izuku spat a mouthful of blood to the side, hand wiping away the trickle from his nose. It didn't feel broken, but the heat and bruise of his cheek definitely meant he would have something to show for it.

Sighing, he dragged his bag out from where he had placed it under his chair and glanced at the open window.

"Oh damn it."

Sighing, he slid the bag on and headed for the door, ignoring the lingering echo of Bakugou's parting words.

'Go take a swan-dive off the roof…'

Spitting another mouthful of blood in the trash can as he passed, Izuku sped down the stairs, being careful to check that Bakugou and his cronies had already left.

With the coast clear, he jogged to the back of the school under his classroom's window and saw his notebook, Hero Analysis #11, floating in the koi pond.

"Ah, fuck."

Crouched down he reached in and pulled out the notebook.

"Dammit. This one was almost filled too... Crap."

Flipping through gently he was suddenly very happy he used waterproof ink pens for the last 3 notebooks. Aside from some gentle smudging, and a few pages that were stuck together, he could salvage most, if not almost all, of his work.

Flipping through the book carefully, he started his walk home, aware he had already missed the bus.

Ducking through a side alley, he came out on the edge of the train tracks.

A few minutes of detouring and a shortcut through the underpass and he could head straight home…

He slowed his steps as a thought passed through him. He could go work on the project! It wouldn't be far, and his mom wouldn't be home for a few more hours. He had time.

Picking back up the pace, and with his mind in gear, he jogged towards the underpass, taking the corner fast he skidded to a halt and then immediately backpedaled.

"W–what the hell!?"

In front of him was a shifting quivering mass of slime and ooze, a dark green mass with only two massive eyes and a grin formed of teeth in the center.

"A medium-sized disguise kit! And just in time too!"

Panicking, Izuku stumbled back, the slime surging his way, but tripping, Izuku stumbled back and away. Barely dodging the first reaching swipe of slime.

Hitting the ground he scrambled backward muttering and stammering in panic, out of the dark of the overpass and into the late afternoon sunlight.  The slime rose and began to follow, a menacing deep green wave of evil intent that surged up, marked by two gleaming eyes and a row of teeth.

A sound like a steam valve breaking caught both his and the villain's attention.

Quickly after, the echoing impact of steel on concrete echoed out of the underpass.

"HALT VILLAIN! FOR I AM HERE!"

All Might

" Holy. Shit."

The Villain panicked and turned to attack, but he suddenly scattered, a flat hand slapping down and through the slime with enough force to cause a burst of air in its wake.

As the villain was slapped down through, he was directed and shoved towards another hand with a bottle held in it. Before Izuku could process what was happening, the vast majority of the villain was suddenly crammed into a soda bottle.

"AH, Worry NOT, I have come to save the day! Are you alright Young Man?" With the slime villain out of the way, Izuku could see him. Tall, broad-shouldered, and ripped like a tank. Dressed in a casual pair of green cargo pants and a white T-shirt taut against his form, he looked amazingly tough and durable.

"Y-yeah, I'm… I'm fine. Thank you mister All Might, sir!"

He bowed rapidly in thanks, but after the third one, he was already speaking.

"Umm… I, I had a question."

Yagi tensed. He had a few more minutes of hero form, but he didn't want to push it too far. He still had to drop off the slime, and then grab the rest of his groceries from where he left them earlier.

He glanced at the kid, taking in the boys state with a practiced eye. While the lack of slime near him spoke that the villain hadn't hurt the young boy, there were other signs that drew his attention. A dark bruise forming on the corner of his lip and jaw, a bloody drop of darkening red on the collar of his Gakuran. He could spare a few seconds, perhaps offer some advice or a number to call.

Crouching, All Might took a knee, putting his shoulders about equal to the young man's head.

"Of course, my boy, what's your query!"

The greenette bit his lip and took a long slow breath.

"I, I want to help people, to save people with a smile. But… I-I'm Quirkless. Can I be a hero?"

Yagi was expecting many things. How to deal with bullies, how to deal with abuse or self-harm. He had even expected the classics. "Can I be your sidekick" "Can you train me".

But… Quirkless. It'd been a very long time, but he remembered. He remembered being injured. Being weak…

"I… I'm sorry my boy."

And out of fear, he said something he knew he would regret.

"I don't think a quirkless person could be a hero. The job is dangerous. I've seen great and powerful heroes, with quirks of every shade and power… and I've seen them lose. Seen them be injured and killed by our way of life. If you want to save people… I would suggest another field. Be a doctor. A detective. A police officer or a firefighter or something like that. Heroism… is far too dangerous for a disadvantage like that." All Might risked a glance and caught the shattered look in the young man's eyes. He felt his heart bleed and writhe with the injustice of crushing a young man's dreams, even as his own wound pulsed in memory of why he was saying what he was.

"I…. Thanks for being honest." The voice was soft and monotone, and it made part of Yagi flinch.

"I must go now. Be safe, my boy." Yagi turned back, checked the bottle was secure, and leaped away, heading up to deliver the villain to the station.

It felt like running away far more than he expected.

Behind him, he left a young boy, whose oldest dream shattered under the words of his icon.

But a second dream was already there, the pieces and focus slowly shifting.

He couldn't be a Hero? Fine.

He would just have to change the world, the Universe, his way.

Chapter 2: Ignition

Summary:

Izuku begins to put theory into practice and causes an explosion.

Oh, and Canon gets knee-capped even more.

Chapter Text

Inko worried about Izuku. She had been for years. If not the bruises he tried to hide or the lack of him ever speaking about friends to the fact he had never gone to hang out with someone after school, other than heading out to work on his dreams.

Heroics.... a wonderful dream, but a frightening one. Heroes went to great distances and efforts to save lives, and they helped keep people safe. But less spoken of was the news clips that she heard at work, the rumors she picked up as a Nurse at the Musafasu Ward Hospital. Missing limbs, broken bones, burns… heroes in comas. Heroes who died. Who sacrificed everything.

She sighed and pushed her thoughts away as she opened the door to her and Izuku's apartment. "Honey? I'm home!" she called, even as she slipped off her shoes and stepped inside. However, she paused when instead of her son's usual call of a greeting and bright if often strained, smile.

Instead, she heard the rapid click-clack of a mechanical keyboard and the faint beat of some loud and aggressive music. Something she heard less and less, and only when Izuku had had a far too stressful day.

"Oh, honey," she sighed, and hung her purse by the door, "What's on your mind now."

She headed to the kitchen and checked the fridge. She was glad she had taken to keeping an emergency stash of pork for days like this. Katsudon would hopefully cheer up her son.

Pulling the pork out to defrost on the counter, she walked down the hall and slowly opened her son's door. The deep rhythm of some very heavy rock was pouring from the opening.

Izuku's room had always been an interesting mix of interests, from model spaceships and posters of the universe and space paraphernalia, and his ever present love of Heroes. Shelves of action figures sat next to disassembled bits of mechanics and hand-sketched blueprints. And his computer was covered in hero emblem stickers even as he custom built the casing and scavenged his own components for it.

But as she looked in now, her heart skipped a beat.

Sections of the wall that once held shining brightly colored posters were now blank, and an entire section of his action figures were missing, leaving only a few of the more support and science themed ones left. She focused on her son, who was sitting on the floor, back to his bed frame and hands dancing over the keyboard in his lap, the computer screen projected from above him to the white wall he used as a screen. His hair was disheveled, even more than usual, and his eyes were… frightening. Her son's eyes had always held a spark of life that amazed her, a shining brilliant flame of pure intent. To help people.

But looking at him now, was like seeing that flame changed. It was more intense, she felt. As if her son had moved from simply declaring to the world, to challenging it.

"Izuku…"

Her voice made her son jolt, and he reflexively tabbed over to his music and hit pause. Looking up at her in surprise.

"H… hey mom," he smiled, but it was worn and tight. Fake. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I can tell," she sighed and moved in, sitting down carefully next to her son, despite the slight ache of her back. "Izuku… are you okay?" she asked him, placing her hand on her son, her brilliant genius hero of a son.

"Y…. I-..... bu-...." And he froze, choking slightly as he tried to respond, before he leaned against her, chest heaving in a half-choking sob. "N- No. I'm not okay."

And crying against her side, he told her.

He spoke about his day, about his beating and the stress, and the villain attack (and she tried not to have a heart attack about her son being Attacked by a Villain) . And then, in a small voice, Izuku spoke of his icon, the hero he admired above all else….

And how that hero crushed his dream.

At that moment Inko knew, that if she ever got the chance she was going to have Words with All Might. Pillar of Peace or not.

As the story dried up, and Izuku quieted, she gently caressed his messy green hair.

"I'm so sorry honey. What do you want to do now, though?"

Her son went quiet, and Inko let him think, merely holding him close and comforting him in her hug.

Finally, he spoke up, and she smiled at the tone. Not sad. Not angry, but solid. The tone that her son should have. "...space."

"Space?" she asked, pushing him to expand his ideas.

"Mom. I wanna see the stars. Other Planets. The moon. I want… to go to space. I have for years."

She smiled at the longing in his voice, and despite the fear that sat in her heart, she pushed through. "I remember. I thought you decided to put that on the back burner for after you made it big?"

"Well… why wait? Why stop, and hold off. They say I can't be a hero, fine! I'll instead be a pioneer. An example that we can go farther than ever before."

Inko smiled and leaned down the kiss her son's forehead. "I hope you bring me back a star that shines half a bright as you, Izuku."

"Mooooommmm!" Her son blushed and hid his face against her side. "You can't just say things like that! It's embarrassing!"

"Oh, quiet you. Tell me, what were you working on, hmm?"

He peeked up and smiled.

"Well…"

Pushing up he picked up his keyboard and began typing the projection on his wall changing from the music player back to what looked like a coding screen.

"If I want to travel the universe, I'm going to need something for navigation, right? So I'm designing a VI using one of the custom tutoring and education base kits online."

"VI?"

"Oh, a virtual intelligence. It's like a personal secretary that can run basic programs and summarize their results for me. I'm programming this one with a basic star map, and how to calculate gravity and paths through space."

She smiled at her son and rubbed his shoulder.

"Alright Genius, get up. You're gonna help me make some katsudon. Then you can get back to programming."

Grinning, Izuku set his keyboard on his desk. "Deal!"

Izuku laid back in bed and looked out the window. The light pollution of the city hid them from sight, but Izuku could see them when he closed his eyes. The stars, shining bright and vibrant in the night sky, constellations, other planets as faint dots in the sky, the deep shimmering blue-black of space viewed through the atmosphere.

He sighed and looked back at the ceiling. It was strange not looking at the posters of All-Might, all of which had been very carefully pulled down and rolled up when he was clearing space. Instead, he focused on a blueprint he had sketched almost a year ago, slowly forming it in his head.

A line of rings and half cylinder casings, each noted for specific properties, each with a specific use. Insulators, conductors, reinforcements, aesthetic plating.

And a power source. An electromagnetic field generator that would manipulate the rest of it, the overlapping fields spinning and charging the metal, the internal fuel plates sparking into a cold plasma reaction, propelling it forward, even as the metal would be recharged with electrons from the environment.

An Ion Drive.

Similar engine designs had been tested and proved more than a century ago as a clean power generator, and there were even a few city power plants powered off the same technology across Europe.

But it hadn't been used as an actual propulsion drive engine.

He stared at it, years of research and cross-referenced designs and fields of science filling his thoughts.

If he wanted to get to space, he needed several requirements.

Atmosphere control, to survive in a vacuum with extreme temperatures.

Propulsion with little to no fuel, to breach orbit and to navigate the local solar system.

Artificial gravity to prevent physiological degradation.

Navigation, Entertainment, and communications equipment, for obvious reasons.

And then some form of food and hygiene system.

And those are just the major problems. There're also the issues of materials and construction, of figuring out how to pilot and manipulate it, adjusting to the intense speeds, and so many more.

Izuku couldn't wait to get started.

Across town, someone else's life was soon to make an equally drastic turn.

A tall blonde teen paced behind his teacher, and boss, the tall and sharp form of Sir Nighteye.

"Mirio, I have someone I want you to meet."

"Who is it, Sir?"

"An Old Friend of mine."

Nighteye pulled back on the door to reveal the training ground of the agency.

"I AM HERE, TO MEET YOU YOUNG MIRIO!"

"-A-ALL MIGHT!?!"

Musafasu Ward was originally constructed as an expansion of the older Tokyo wards for residential use and was sold as a new place to move and live, where higher grade technology and dozens of new and improved quirk compatible apartments were to be constructed. When it first opened, it drew in quite a rush of traffic. The city had once been shining and prosperous, but during the still-developing hero and villain equilibrium that was coming, it was a target. New and improved businesses were often vandalized or stolen from, new apartments were broken into, and the new and attractive features were ripped apart and taken away. By the time Musafasu was celebrating its third decade, it had dropped from an upper-class district of high fashion and advanced development to a middle-class dumping ground for those who could barely afford to live there.

Now, almost 140 years after its establishment, Musafasu Ward has settled into the lower middle-class rank. What once was new and advanced technology is now outdated and unused. Dumping grounds and abandoned lots littered the district, drawing in all manner of lost and addicted to wander in its streets, aside from the northern edge closest to Tokyo where UA holds domain.

Interestingly enough, 140 years of social decline has also left plenty of strange and unseen places, old businesses that closed their windows but not their doors, apartments and strip malls that have turned into self-contained enclaves of the poor and wicked.

And then there was the Musafasu Thinker Lab.

Less than twenty minutes of walking from the Midoriya Apartment, halfway to the dump that Dagobah Beach had become, the old and unfinished carcass of a gorgeous indoor mall remained. A full city block, still lined with old scaffolding behind the ten-foot chain link fence. It was one of the last great pushes to make an improvement to a neighborhood already half in the gutters, which lost its funding long before finishing. Of the two wings of the complex, only one had been completed, a graveyard of untouched and unfurnished offices, storefronts, and restaurants. Across the unpaved central plaza of the building, the other half was nothing but a skeleton of steel bars.

There were several other buildings like this one, grand projects to revitalize a community that sputtered and died, but few were as complete as the Musafasu Grand Mall. With its failure, the southern part of the district had fallen even further into disrepair. Despite that, the mall did not become a hive of scum and villainy as many expected.

Instead, a different breed came upon it.

The young and ingenious of the area had come to play.

Izuku jogged up and slipped through the usual gap in the fence, jogging up to the still intact, if paint covered, double glass doors, and tapped a code into the digital lock to the side.

With a beep, the door unlocked and Izuku pushed through to a paradise of creative freedom.

There's a saying that nothing is more dangerous than a teenager who's time rich and money poor. And for the teens who called the lab a second home, the geeks and curious and too poor or too weak to be heroes… the lab was a place to experiment.

Old stores became workshops of scavenged and customized tools, blank utilitarian walls became an evolving and living art show, graffiti and art ranging from the obscene to the elegant to the mad was constantly being added. The original trendsetters, who had long since become grandfathers and grandmothers still dropped by, hippies with intricate glass and ceramics, grinders with glowing embedded lights under their skin, and tattoos that shifted with electrical current. Tinkers and crafters and artists of all kind gathered under the roof of the lab.

And among the top floors, Izuku had his own workshop.

It's been 3 weeks since his meeting with All Might.

Izuku crouched and looked over his prototype. A miniaturized Ion Engine, barely larger than his fist, was bolted to a makeshift workbench in the hackerspace. More precisely, it was in the refurbished and reinforced bathroom of the once restaurant Izuku had turned into his workshop. Stepping back, he checked that the camera he had set up was watching and stepped behind a concrete wall.

This would be his fourth test after the first two never started, and the third spot welded from a conductivity issue.

"Test fire 4. Model 1.2 in 3… 2… * Click *"

Izuku tensed and listened as the engine began to whine, the faint smell of ozone and the sharp smell of ionized metal reaching him. He counted to ten, and listened as the engine whined and hummed from behind the wall.

Slowly, he peeked out and grinned at seeing the faint blue glow of a successful-

The sound suddenly pitched higher and he panicked, ducking back around the wall before-

*BOOM*

Izuku sighed even as he took in the still glowing hot piece of metal embedded in the wall past his cover.

"I need safety equipment. God Damn."

"Ah, did I miss an explosion?" came a drawling voice as a young man of dark complexion and a short and curly nest of neon blue dyed hair, with deep grey roots, leaned around the door frame behind Izuku. Dark grey eyes peeked from behind thick horn rimmed glasses even as his eyes darted across the room carefully.

"Yeah, sorry Byte, but I could have sworn it was ready," Izuku muttered as he facepalmed, smearing a line of grease under his eyes.

"I heard. I also heard you talking about safety gear? Whatever for?"

Gesturing for the older teen to look, Izuku presented the several centimeters of still smoking metal that was embedded in the wall past the concrete divider.

"Ouch, what the hell did you do Green? Make a pipe bomb?"

"Nope. I just spent two weeks building the fourth attempt at a Pulse Ion Engine." Izuku sighed as the realization of just how much work he lost set in. "And I just lost those two weeks of work. Goddamnit."

The older teen blinked and wandered past to look at the damage itself, Izuku following.

"This is a lot of damage. If I didn't know better I'd say you could give my cousin a run in the catastrophic failure category!"

The lower half of the drive was still bolted tight to the workbench, but the upper half had warped to look like an open flower of twisted metal.

"How'd you fabricate this?" he asked, pointing to the larger casing parts.

"Laser cut the components than adjusted them by hand," Izuku called back, already moving to grab some protective gloves and a pair of pliers from outside of the refurbished bathroom that was his testing ground.

"Hmmm… yeah, that's your problem. You need either a more robust design or a more accurate fabricator. Lucky for you, we can solve one of them right now." Byte looked at the younger teen, "You need to learn how to 3D model, and then you can use the Big Box."

Izuku looked at him with curiosity, "I can use some CAD, but what is the big box?"

Byte threw back his head and laughed, clapping the younger teen on the shoulder. "You need to enunciate the capitals in the name. Come on and see, it's in the basement. I think you've been around long enough to be introduced."

The two began heading for the stairs as Byte explained.

"So, there's a theory that went around a long time ago when 3D printers and fabricators first started, it was the Recursive Loop Theory. It goes like this. You buy a 3D printer. Mid-range, sorta useful, but with enough detail and strength that you like it. But then you need something a bit more detailed. So you look online and you find a set of 3D models for a second printer. This one you can build on your machine, and with only some minor parts you can make the more detailed printer for a tiny fraction of what it would cost."

The two of them stepped on to the stairs and began to descent, Byte taking the steps in slow twirling leaps, while Izuku watched in amusement and paced behind the energetic teenager.

"So, you can make more detailed parts. And you find designs for a bigger printer. It's modular and sorta rough, but it needs those detailed parts. So you can then build massive somewhat detailed pieces… and so you do. And now, with your 3 printers, you find designs to a fourth. Bigger, better, more detailed, it's another generation, and you can print it off your current designs. Boom, bam, rinse and repeat. Eventually, your diminishing returns drop till you can't make a more detailed printer, but at that point, you have one hell of a machine, particularly if you have a bunch of crazy hackers building your final design as a custom project. Course, it's not quite that easy. We had to fabricate a lot of weird and unique bits for them in other ways." As they passed the first floor, Byte leaped down the last flight of the steps and spun to the basement door, typing in a code.

Izuku could see where this was going. "So the Big Box-"

"Is a massive, customized high detail 3D fabricator that can even print metal. Yes."

As the door beeped, Izuku saw the Big Box, and had to keep from gasping.

It was a massive aquarium tank, easily twenty feet from corner to corner and at least eight feet tall. Above it, hanging like a mechanical spider on segmented green and red limbs with shiny metal joints and points, was a motorcycle sized 3D printing extruder. Izuku could see a set of lasers for dust printing, a pair of high-heat high-speed extruders for wires, several dozen smaller legs with colors and specific grades of wire, all of which fed up and around the room to spools of plastic and cylinders of dusted metal.

Around the rooms were notes scrawled in sharpie, notices about safety, about what feeds to use, hints for setting things up, scrawled dicks in a corner, a big bluefish painstakingly drawn across the top of the glass on the tank. Which, now that Izuku could see, was clearly hinged to swing open and provide access to the printer and its results.

"What do you even build with this?" Izuku muttered, looking at the size.

"Uhh, the biggest single print project I was here for so far is a full sized truck frame, with most of the components and the entire electrical system printed inside the frame. That took about 18 days of straight printing and drained the steel and aluminum canisters a solid dozen times. We've done bigger projects, but that's usually modular frame stuff we weld and bolt together."

Izuku stood and stared at the printer, dozens of smaller ideas he had written off as too difficult to fabricate suddenly becoming much more feasible.

"I…I've got Ideas, Byte," he muttered, eyes becoming sharp and matching the devilish mischief in Byte's own eyes.

"Well, you better get started, Star-Kid. You aren't gonna break orbit without momentum."

Izuku grinned and bolted for the door, already three steps ahead of himself.

Byte smiled and mused on the day he had first met the kid.

"Yo, kid. You know the labs got a lock for a reason right?" Byte called from the steps up to the door, dressed in a massive green jacket and grey beanie.

Byte couldn't believe who was trying to hack the door at three in the afternoon on a Monday. A kid, who looked only eight or nine, was glaring at the electronic lock he was halfway through dismantling.

"I was told the only way in, was to get in myself."

Byte blinked and frowned. That… was not right. The Lab was open to anyone who needed it, though space and some supplies were on a first come first serve basis. And as far as Byte was informed, there wasn't an age limit. Despite what he told Bit.

So wh-. Ah.

"Hey, kid. The guy who told you, was he like older than me, red hair, black skin?"

"Yes."

Oh, Goddamnit Spanner. You fuck.

"He was fucking with you. The codes 422537."

The kid paused and looked up in confusion even as he typed in the numbers. "... Doesn't that spell Hacker?"

Smart kid, not many got that. With a click and buzzer sound, the door slid open.

"Yep. Now, come in and lets chat. Why do you want in, anyway?"

The kid paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as deep green rose to meet warm grey.

"I'm going to space."

Byte paused and grinned. He knew the kid was interesting. A dream like that? He could get behind it.

"You know what? Go for it kid, and shoot me a selfie when you pull it off. How old are you anyway?"

With a blinding smile, the green haired teen walked into the Lab.

"I'm eleven."

Shaking off the memories with a smile, Byte headed back upstairs to his own workshop. And his screen printer. He had some more shirt ideas, including one with 'If you can read this, you Suck' under that old American patriot guy.

He paused as he reached the top floor and passed, the sound of clicking and the sight of Izuku with his eyes stuck to the laptop in front of him made him slowed his pace.

"Safety gear, yeah?" He mused, before heading further down the hall to his own workshop, the windows into the old storefront covered with layers upon layers of shirt designs. "Better make him something with some style."

Mirio stepped into the secure conference room where All Might had called him, to see the number 1 hero sitting on one of the two comfortable armchairs. "Please, come sit."

Mirio complied and sat across from the hero. "What do you want to talk to me about, sir?"

"Young Mirio. Over the last month, you have been training with me, and I've been assessing you and your personality, your drive. I think it's time, for me to explain why."

"Sir?"

"Let me tell you…of One For All."

Chapter 3: Intake

Summary:

Stress, Explosions, and a breaking point.

Izuku has more people then he knew on his side.

Chapter Text

Izuku sighed as he pushed his goggles up out of his face, looking out from behind the now reinforced testing room, the metal shutters that had been installed pulled open to reveal the lower half of the newest engine was still a glowing yellow twisted mess of molten metal and burned out circuitry.

"Well. That's 2.9 fucked." He swore as he reached up an rubbed at the gritty feeling in his eyes. He paused and looked at his phone, feeling a sense of-

"Oh goddamn it I'm late!" he pulled the plug on the engine and  bolted back through the workshop, grabbing his bag and Gakuran jacket as he rushed for the doors. He had come in early to pick up the latest printing and test it, and now he had to run across the district to get to class on time.

Cursing, he hit the street and broke out into a sprint.

He was stressed, his nerves raw and emotional grip thin and loose, he knew it. But he was close .

What was the worth of sleep and sanity compared to the breakthrough he could see on the horizon?

Bakugou glanced back as he heard the faint muttering of the goddamn nerd once more. His head was down and pencil darting across the page he had. It was a free period, and the rest of the extras were chatting or working on homework around the room, and the teacher was watching. But he could still hear the goddamn muttering. Just faint enough to hear, but not understand past the faint ringing that he used to in his skull.

Gritting his teeth, he decided then and there. The nerd was getting it today.

As the final bell rang, he and his cronies dragged the nerd to the courtyard.

Izuku stumbled back, and Katsuki felt that surge of power, that thrill. He was better. He was the best and there was nothing that shitty Deku could do. Look at him, bleeding. Hurting. And he thought he could be a hero. Deku thought he was competition?

"Heh, shitty Deku. You'll never be a hero." the laugh felt natural. After all, the idea that a quirkless loser could be a hero? That was the definition of a joke.

The greenette staggered up, braced against the wall and coughed. More weakness, more proof that Katsuki was better, that he was- "You know what, Kacchan. You're right."

And with those words, Bakugou's world froze.

Not even looking at him, Deku chuckled, the sound rough and choked. "Yeah. You are right. I will never be a hero." Twisting, Deku leaned heavily against the wall, the bruise blossoming across his cheek only highlighting the split lip and bloody smile. "You win."

The words are what he's always wanted to hear, for years. The one thing Deku has never given him. For some reason they make his blood run cold.

"I forfeit. I yield. I abandon my dream, surrender my goal, abdicate my future. I GIVE UP." a cough, and a spit, blood staining the grey of the concrete, even as Izuku raised his arms wide and shaky. Open, as if gesturing to the world. "You win . And boom, one less hero. One less 'roadblock'." And there's a smile. Wide, and shining, and shaking. But with the blood from his lips smeared across white teeth, it becomes a thing of nightmares, burning into Bakugou's mind.

" Yeah, There you go. One step closer to number one, right? One less step, one less roadblock. Only took what, ten years? One less hero. I'll retire without starting, just like you want."

The words ring in Katsuki's head, and he almost wants to talk but his tongue feels heavy.

And when Izuku staggers to the side, he flinches and doesn't stop the nerd as he grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulders with a sigh, not even looking Katsuki's direction. "I really hope you make it, Bakugou. Would hate to see my sacrifice go to waste. Have fun being number one. Hope it's fucking worth it."

Bakugou can only stare, even as his cronies begin to joke behind him, as Deku walks off.

He's won. So why doesn't it feel like it?

Izuku doesn't go home, after his beating. After feeling his last threads of patience and the last bit of leeway he had for Katsuki snap under that beating.

So with his pulse still pounding, the edges of his eyes tinting red with each beat of his heart, he heads for the lab.

The code gets slammed into the keypad, the rest of the walk from school to the building lost in the blur. And his feet rush up the stair. Up past the third floor where he is set up to still vacant and unused fourth. And then past that. Up a back door with a peeling employee only sign, and out onto the roof.

His bag makes a satisfying thud as it soars across the pale concrete tile of the rooftop.

"FUCK!" He yells, shouts. He needs to simply release. Weeks of stress and exhaustion are catching up, and his already frayed temper and patience had snapped under his beating.

He stands and breaths heavy, looking at the rooftop and the edge nearby, thrown into sharp contrasts as the sun was falling towards the distant glimmer of the sea. Izuku finally falls to his knees and slams his fists to the floor, before rolling to his back, arm coming up to cover his eyes, gleaming tears still down his cheeks as he trembles on the roof.

A floor below, sitting against the wall next to the roof access, face drawn tight with a mix of anger and sorrow, Byte wishes he could do something. Anything .

Nothing he can do comes to mind. Izuku doesn't need pity. Or a shoulder to cry on. He would instantly repress it the moment Byte came up and he doesn't need that. So Byte closes his eyes and slams his head back in helplessness.

It's not until he hears the solid clack of wooden and steel sandals on tile and swish of heavy cloth that he looks up.

His eyes go wide as the door is kicked open past him and a determined flow of grey and black and red passes him by. He gets a glimpse of tanned skin so thick and aged it looks like leather, of sharp grey eyes and a thick white beard and mane. And an expression that seems to be both comforting and threatening at the same time.

"Oh fuck."

Yeah, now Byte really wasn't going up there.

Izuku doesn't pull his arm away as he hears the door open. "Oh my god, can you just leave me alone? Just for a few minutes?"

"What, so you can mope some more?" comes a gruff voice he didn't expect.

He scrambles to sit up, eyes wide as he takes in the oldest and most mysterious member of the lab's inhabitants. Most of the people who worked, or lived, in the labs were on the younger side. People who were just a bit tilted, who were too hyper-focused to live in the structure of normal society.

Except for him. Old Man Tetsu, or as it normally went around, Tetsu-dono. He was supposedly one of the main supporters of the labs, and aside from his own workshop, a blacksmiths forge set on the ground floor and spilling out into the old courtyard of the second floor, he was rarely seen around the labs themselves.

Now he stood on the roof. A loose hakama in pale tan and trimmed with deep steel colored grey, and a deep red Kimono with scrawling black designs that brought to mind wrought iron. Grey-streaked black hair was pulled back and up into a spiky tail while his beard was pulled tight into a long braid of white, capped with an ornate steel ring.

Dragging on the chains of his anger, Izuku dropped into a bow. "Oh, Tetsu-dono, I-"

"If I wanted you to bow to me I would have invited you to tea. Stand up, kid." The sharp voice cut through Izuku's flimsy attempt at respect. Something in the tone also set those chains he held shifting, his rage and frustration boiling even as he tried to tighten his grip on it.

"I could hear your ranting from the ground floor. Despite what you people may think, age has done nothing but sharpen my hearing. As such, I gather you've had a shitty day."

A link slipped, and his mouth moved before he could stop it. "You could say that."

Deep hazel eyes narrowed, and then an arm swung up, a long pale object being launched Izuku's way.

He fumbled for a second, but caught it, revealing a sturdy wooden rod, unstained wood pale and rough, shaped almost like a katana.

"You want to mope and sulk, you do it off the lab. But if you need to release some rage and frustration…" leathery hands rose, a second Bokken in a sure grip. "Then I suppose I should teach you how to channel it."

Some deep-seated sense told him caution. In answer, he shifted to awkwardly holding the hilt and stepping back and to the side, bringing the stick up more like a baseball bat than a sword. "I have no idea how to use a sword," Izuku confesses slowly, feeling extremely foolish.

"Hmmph. That much I can see. A better idea with using it than faking it."

And then the old man blurred and Izuku could barely react, jerking the bokken around to meet the incoming slash with a jarring hit that threw it clear.

"But your stance is weak and your movements too close. Again."

A shifting stance, and another blur, the bokken flying.

"Again."

Blur. Thunk. Bokken gone.

"Again."

Izuku shifted to hold the bokken better.

"Again."

Shifted to grimace as his palms were scrapped from his grip.

"Again."

The sun was low, casting light across the rooftop at a harsh angle. And Izuku grimaced, grabbing the bokken.

And any grip on the chain holding his anger finally slipped.

He stepped forward, swinging the wooden sword with a lack of grace and a surplus of anger, and for once, it stayed in his grip. The other sword darted out, tracing along the rage-filled swing and sending it wide, but Izuku wasn't done yet. He swung back around, and the sword came at the old man again and again, and eventually, the man spoke again.

"Finally, you're letting it go. But where is your intelligence, Hmm? Where does your mind go with this aggression? Focus! Breath! Let your anger flow, but direct it! Your swings are wild, chaotic! Focus them, bring them in on the inhale! Strike on the exhale!"

Through the haze, Izuku listened and learned, and as he focused, he began to put it into practice.

The sounds of bokkens striking got louder and louder, faster and faster. Izuku lost track of time, his anger fading from a blur to a simmer that rested in his bones and blood.

Finally, he stumbled, and a flicker-flash of movement sent the bokken flying.

Crashing to his knees, Izuku gasped and pulled in deep ragged breaths. His body burned from exertion. Legs and arms feeling as though acid had been filtered through them even as his hands were scratched raw and torn, bright red blood slowly seeping from ripped skin.

A grizzled hand rested on his shoulder gently as Tetsu crouched before him. All semblance of the stern fighter faded from his expression.

"Kid, trust me. You're gonna feel like this again. People are gonna meet your eye and tell you that you're gonna fail. And do it again and again and again. But you are a dreamer, and your eyes are trained on the stars. If you seal off and ignore your rage then one day it will gonna burst out and break you. But if you feed your dreams your rage, your spite. All those negative emotions turn into force, into energy that you direct."

"Y-yeah. I understand." Izuku painted, trying to focus

"Wonderful. Now, I want you to schedule a day or two a week with me. Come by and spar, just like what we did. You're gonna need to be strong if you wanna fly. Reaction times, focus, grace under pressure. I can help you with those. And teach you how to use a sword." The old man's voice was grounding Izuku, pulling him back down to his center.

"But-"

Tetsu held up a hand in "Listen. You need the discipline to balance your dreams. And the sword may help you more than you expect." Izuku quieted at that, and part of his mind reviewed his criteria for space, adding in physical conditioning. He needed to get stronger… and Tetsu was offering.

"I… I would be honored, Tetsu-sama."

For a moment the two shared a moment of unspoken understanding.

Then the door burst open and a young woman with long teal hair pulled back in a loose bun and a terrifying smile stepped on the roof.

"Why did I hear that someone was getting injured." Epsilon, the lab's resident nurse, and their medical expert asked with a smile and closed eyes.

Across from her, the teen and old man froze, feelings of explicit terror growing as they broke out into cold sweats.

From behind the door frame, Byte leaned out and shouted across the roof.

"Oh, you done fucked up now."

Chapter 4: Fuel Injection

Summary:

Time passes, and progress is made.

Chapter Text

"C'mon…. Just spark and spin, give me that spark and spin !" Izuku gave the engine a last surge of power from the controller, and it started whirring. After 3 seconds of accelerating, with a slowly heightening pitch, it burst to life. A flare of blue-gold bloomed in the inner workings, and beneath his new work gear, Izuku laughed as he could feel the energy coursing through it, the active electromagnetic field raising the hair off his arms.

"YES, 3.5 is LIVE!"

Grinning, he pulled the switch to begin the engines shut down, the glow sputtering and fading, leaving only a sense of static floating off the metal engine. He would have to check to see how the engine degraded if it did, but he wanted to let it rest first.

Stepping back, he reached up and unclasped the base of his new helmet from the armored seal over his throat. The gleaming grey and black helmet was fairly smooth and form-fitting, except for a respirator installed around the mouth and the gleaming green and gold tinted glass used for the lenses. Pulling it off, he reached up to rub at the new haircut he sported, the shortcut of his sides giving way at the crown of his head to flowing spikes that he had combed forwards. The benefit of keeping it out of the way since Engine 3.2 had involved his curly bush of green locks getting lit on fire during construction. Which taught him to not keep hair loose while soldering.

Which was part of why he had been very determined to finish his first helmet prototype?

Running his hand through his hair to loosen it from where it was stuck close around his temple, he looked around his workshop.

Over three months of day-in and day-out work. Of long nights spent coding and designing, and rushing his homework in the small hours of the morning before dozing in class. His agreement with his mom for this meant he had to keep his grades up, and the print time on the Big Box meant that he had plenty of time to research and double check his work while it brought designs to life. But when school was done, when he could get away, he had poured his time into his designs and experiments. And when summer break had begun two weeks ago, he had devoted even more time into his dream. And that was what had lead to this, the breakthroughs of the version 3 engine.

The version 3 engines were a mixed Arc-Electromagnetic Adjustable Yield Ion Thruster. When he had been ranting to Byte earlier that month, the older teen had stared at him and raised an eyebrow. As such, he had to clarify.

The version 1 engines were a Set-Yield propulsion system. It accepted a certain amount of energy and output a specific amount of thrust.

The version 2 engines were a Responsive-Yield thruster, where the amount of energy put in affected the amount of thrust they generated. Which meant that when he did his final stress tests, the engine almost ripped free of its housing and the energy burned out its circuits when the energy spiked.

But the AE-AYIT engines were monitored and could be adjusted. For now, it was manual, a stripped-down series of switches and buttons that could adjust the levels of thrust and power used. The plan was to eventually wire them up with a short-range Arduino and computer interface that would allow him to adjust them from a ranged controller or from his laptop. But for now, the fact it worked was enough for celebration!

He smiled and unplugged the car battery and supercapacitor he was using for power from the engine. That was his next project to work on—energy generation and recovery.

The Ion Engines once started, used a fairly small amount of energy for the thrust, but beginning the reaction was much more difficult, requiring a massive surge of electricity to begin the reaction and create the electromagnetic field. It was almost 15 times the wattage that maintaining the field required, hence the supercapacitor. But that wasn't viable for field use. He needed a better, cleaner method of energy production. He was also sort of sick and tired of hunting down and recharging car batteries from Dagobah beach. As evidenced when a check revealed he had killed yet another one.

"Probably why it was so hard to start the engine," Izuku muttered, grabbing the 15-kilo box, heaving the battery to the far corner of the workshop, and setting it gently on the growing pyramid of spent batteries sitting under a counter.

"Huh. I used to need two hands for that…"

Honestly, that was one of the more interesting changes that he had undergone. Months of constant work and crafting had a series of surprising benefits. From hours spent digging through the junkyard of the Dagobah beach under the summer sun, running to and from school, home, and the lab as fast as he could, sprinting up the stars, and carrying large and heavy metallic objects. Swinging Bokkens and releasing his stress and frustrations with Tetsu, who had also started teaching him some meditation and exercises for clearing his mind.

Baby fat that once rounded his cheeks and the thin, weak flesh of his young frame was vanishing bit by bit. While he doubted he'd acquire a six pack of washboard abs and muscles that could bend steel, he was becoming leaner and more wiry with each passing day. His skin darkened several shades from sunshine and heat as he worked metal and hunted down spare parts and specific materials for his use.

Alongside that, his hands and arms had long since suffered from his mistakes. Small cuts and bruises from working metal pieces and carrying junk, small burns from welding and hot metal, callouses from the same. The bruises and cuts were rarer as time went on, but it seems burns were an eternal presence, which the other tinkerers had agreed on.

Grinning at his progress, he unbolted the engine and set it next to the other 4 models of the generation 3 engines.

Then his phone beeped. A glance showed his alarm was going off.

11:25 PM

"Oh shit!" A glance out the bay windows across the hall showed that the day had vanished under the horizon without him noticing, the stars and night sky covered by the glow of street lamps and neon.

Grabbing his helmet, phone, and his most recent acquisition, a refurbished skateboard that Byte had fixed up and painted with a stylized solar system on the bottom, Izuku bolted for the door. The skateboard, along with the finished prototype of the helmet and the matching leather work jacket, had been Izuku's birthday presents from a half dozen members of the Lab.

Byte, who was the artist of the group, had done the bottom of the board, and the subtle paintings that filled the lining of the jacket, cherenkov blue paint lighting up the inside as if it was filled with the ion glow of Izuku's engines. The left shoulder had a stitched patch of an gold and black H superimposed over the corona of the sun peeking around the earth, the defining picture of a horizon. Solo, who was the resident Drone enthusiast, had helped design the collar seal, which would lock the helmet tight to Izuku's throat and cover his neck from sparks and danger. The leather jacket itself had been recovered from a thrift store and fitted to Izuku by the tailor of the building, Singh, who had been working with Izuku before that. To complete his outfit, he had a new pair of close fitting leather gloves, each with the H symbol stitched into them, a gift from Epsilon and Tetsu. Something about keeping him from tearing up his hands again, from the cheerful medics comments.

As he checked himself over once more, he pulled his helmet back on and started heading home, enjoying the cool summer night. As he kicked off and drifted through the quiet streets. As she drifted he heard a rising trill from his helmet's audio.

"I'm here. Navi?"

"Hello, user. There have been three reported Hero fights this evening, and traffic is still obstructed on your route home."

" Ah, shit. Give me a reroute?" he asked, reaching up to flip the antenna in the side of the helmet up for a better signal. He heard the faint click of the GPS system turning on, and clicked the button to grant access for his VI.

" As you wish, user."

Spaced around the edges of the visor in the helmet, a dozen soft gold LED lights flickered on, then off, before only the lights to the left came on. Tilting his head he turned to follow the light, taking each turn as the lights flashed.

Soon he was traveling down unused back alleys, rolling slowly of the board until with a slow smooth turn, he came out of an alley on the far side of the damaged area. Kicking off he picked up speed and tapped the switch on the helmets inner jaw.

"Thanks, Navi," Izuku called out, kicking the skateboard up as he hit the stairs up to his apartment.

" You are welcome, User."

"Please resume local Celestial mapping."

" Resuming Primary Protocol."

Izuku checked that the helmet was turned off, and pulled it off with a grunt as he stepped out onto his landing. Jogging, he slid to a stop and pulled out his key.

Carefully he opened the door and stepped inside, seeing the faint light of a dimmed lamp illuminating the living room.

And his mom, fast asleep on the couch.

Sighing to himself, he set his skateboard on the hook near the door, and stepped carefully through the room, crouching near his mom.

It struck him, suddenly, how she had changed. She was so… small. Not weak, no. The person who thought his mom was a weak woman would get a hell of a surprise, but she looked worn.

There were more lines across her face, more worries in her eyes. She hid it well, but even sleeping like this, she looked worried.

Worried for him.

Izuku sighed and bit at his lip, before pushing the thought away and carefully gathering her in his arms.

Again, he was surprised at just how easy it was to carry the weight of his mom, the contrast to who he was just a few months ago evident once more.

Carefully, he walked through the apartment, pushing gently into his mom's room. He didn't like being in here— his mom had memories in here, memories that weren't his to pry into. The people in the pictures… He recognized a few. Mitsuki… her husband Masaru…

And in a few. The dark curly hair he could recognize, even if he barely remembered. A wedding photo, a picture from an early date. Each one of these, his father smiled and grinned, goofy and carefree.

He looked away and focused on getting his mom into bed, tucking her in, careful not to wake her. Stepping back, he turned to walk away before another picture caught his eye, sitting on a table by the door.

Green curly hair and bright eyes closed on a small Izuku; the toddler was fast asleep, sprawled over a much taller leaner chest in a bright red shirt. Deep black curly hair sprawled unattended like a halo around the figure's head, while a pair of glasses was askew on the figure'sfigures face. A line of drool clearly showed how fast asleep the older of the pair was.

Reaching out Izuku ran a finger over the frame, pulling away a faint film of dust.

He could remember when he left. When his job, the corporation he had worked for years in closed its Japanese branch, and the incentives he was given to follow. But he didn't want to uproot everyone. Not his wife, or his son. So Izuku's father left, to pursue work and time, to keep people safe.

Quietly, Izuku wondered if the I-Island project was really that important. If his dad had stayed close…

Izuku sighed and gave a soft smile, and picked up the picture, carrying it from his mom's room where he slid to sit in the hall, looking at the picture.  "I wonder if you'd like my gear, dad. I know you're so bound up and busy, that you keep people, millions of them, safe… heh. A hero by a different name."

Izuku grinned and was about to put the picture back when he noticed something. The light shifted over the picture oddly, as if it wasn't quite flush with the glass.

"What do we have here?"

Flipping the frame around he quickly loosened the backing and pulled it out, to reveal a thick business card. Scrawled on the back facing here, in red Ink, is the phrase "if things go wrong" On the front in small clear-cut typeset, was the address of his dad's old labs. Below was a series of numbers, and 'Lab 18'.

A thought came over him. "What had ever happened to the old Morningstar Research labs? I mean, it had been over a decade… right?"

Frowning, he pocketed the card and put the picture frame back together.

Now he was curious.

"Professor! Professor Midoriya!" dark hair and red eyes glanced up from his computer, thick glasses catching the glint of the light as he took in the blonde teenage girl approaching.

"Ah, Melissa. Good to see you." He folded his hands together and looked up at the young prodigy.

With a smile and focused blue eyes, she stepped closer. "I was wondering if you could give me some advice! I'm working on trying to lessen the energy demands of my gliders, and was hoping you could help?"

Hisashi Midoriya grinned and shoved up from the desk, reaching out to close his laptop. "You know what, sure. Might as well earn my position as head of our energy division here. Come on, let's go see what you're working on."

As Melissa turned to leave, Hisashi glanced at his phone on the desk, and scowled at the email still pulled up on it.

Due to Security and protocol, Outbound package MH1164 (to: Midoriya Izuku) was not shipped, and shall be returned to you by August 2. Sorry for the inconvenience.

-Security Chief Hammond

Tapping to close his email app, he slid the phone in his pocket. Hisashi picked up the pace to follow his student, breathing slowly to keep the agitated sparks of heat sliding around in his lungs, not his breath. Hopefully helping Melissa would keep him from lighting the building on fire.

' Son… I'm sorry for missing another birthday. I wish I could see you….'

Chapter 5: Airflow Issue

Chapter Text

Izuku shifted, his jacket sitting across his shoulders loosely and helmet in hand as he rushed to the door. "Bye, mom! I'm heading out!"

"Be safe! Call me if you plan to be late again!" Inko called back, smiling from her seat at the kitchen table as she took in her son's hurried expression while he yanked on his work boots over the hems of his black jeans. A wide and genuine smile is sent her way before his hands finish tying his boots snug and he grabs his board on the way out the door, footsteps ringing out as he takes off.

"That boy, always running off." She breathed out a sigh and smiled softly. She compared the lean and bright-eyed teen to the smaller, far more nervous kid he had once been.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Izuku paused on the street corner and glanced up, his face wincing guiltily at what he planned to do. Shaking it to clear his thoughts, he pulled out his phone and tapped in the address he had been looking for. With a soft blinking light on, he pulled his helmet onto his head.

"Good morning, User. Plotting new location now. Plotting complete. Please follow the arrows for the fastest and safest path to 'Morningstar Labs.'"

"Thanks Navi… and give me some music to fit the ride."

"Of course, User."

As the low thump of punk rock began to ring out, Izuku kicked off and began his travels. It was over fifteen kilometers to the labs, and he wanted to get there with plenty of time to explore this… 'Just in case' message.

Two bus rides later, he was stepping off the platform and walking down the street of the old manufacturing and packing district of Musutafu, helmet sealed tight and hands tucked into his jacket as his board coasted down deserted factory side streets and between old warehouses.

Finally, he rounded a corner and came into sight of an old-school manufacturing plant and attached office buildings, a rusting sign with the Morning Star logo barely visible.

The metal bars of the gate were chained shut, a rust-covered padlock holding it tight. A few moments of twisting, however, and the tension cracked a chain link, the entire pile of metal sliding free with a creaking clang.

Glancing around and wincing under his helmet, Izuku shoved the gate open enough to get in, and darted through, ducking closer even as he glanced at the business card he had found.

"Loading bay 3, lab 18, passcode: 418171514… Really, dad? 'Dragon' in numerals?"

Izuku shook his head, and took off, eyes checking each faded number on the loading bay doors of the building, circling around to the back of the building before he finally found the one he was looking for.

Carrying his skateboard, he stepped up onto the loading bay ledge, and tried to lift the door, grunting as it slowly and, to his surprise, silently, slid up several feet. A crouched shuffle left him on the inside, the dark and gloomy factory floor stretching out before him, only lit by the faintest of early morning sunlight that trickled in through skylights. Each step left marks in the deep dust that covered the floor, while the few remaining manufacturing machines were all covered in dust and moth-eaten cloth covers. Reaching up, he slid the helmet off, stashing it and his board in his backpack, while pulling out a large flashlight. A click, and the beam illuminated the room around him, the flashlight passing over the walls as he started looking for the labs.

"Now…  if this is the factory floor… where are the labs?"

Izuku took off walking through the factory floor, light dancing from place to place as he made for the partitioned off rooms across the way. As he reached them, he found a security door and a keypad with a softly blinking red light.

"D-R-A-G-O-N. Ta-da." Izuku smirked as his fingers typed in the code, before the light changed green and the lock gave a click. Pushing through the door, the hallway he stepped into was far darker than the factory floor itself, if with less dust.

He paced down the hall, light flickering over the room numbers as he frowned.

"01, 02…. 08. Okay. where is 18 though? The building's only one floor… unless…"

Glancing down, Izuku eyed the floor and jogged down the hall, glancing in each lab window he passed until he found it.

An emergency exit… on the wrong side of the hall. The wall the rooms were built against was to his left. So why was the emergency exit to his right?

He crouched down and looked at the door's bar, seeing that while it was an actual emergency door, nothing was hooked up, the sensors were not giving off that distinctive hum of an active current, nor were the signs in the hall right.

Breathing deep he slowly cracked the door open, revealing a metal and concrete staircase… leading down under the factory floor.

"Hello… somehow I don't think you're supposed to exist?" Izuku glanced at the rough poured concrete support, at how the stairwell was slightly off-kilter. Things that could be contributed to a poor foundation… if not for the fact the concrete wasn't cracked or tilted. This wasn't aged. This was poor construction. The type of things that would happen if… oh, you hired someone under the table.

"What were you up to dad? What's with the secrecy…." Izuku sat in the doorway for a moment, pulling at his lip as his light slowly danced over the dark hallway.

"Well. Mama didn't raise a quitter."

Lifting his light higher, Izuku delved into the secret labs.

"KATSUKI!" The shout echoed up the stairs, and Bakugou Katsuki flinched, looking up from the textbook in his hand, pencil behind his ear. He had meant to study some more for the entrance exam, but for the last half hour he had barely had the focus… all he could think about… was that phrase. That parting comment.

"FUCKING HELL! KATSUKI! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE." His mom shouted up once more, and he scowled, tossing his book aside.

"FINE, WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT, HAG?!"

Behind him, a notebook still sat open, the word 'Forfeit' scrawled with a question mark in the margins of the last page.

His light danced over the labs as Izuku walked through the hallway. Most of the room doors were open, and the interiors stripped of gear, leaving only loose cables and wires but as he trailed the light over large painted decals of numbers… he saw that one door was still sealed shut, with a blinking light on its keypad.

"12… 14… 16… 18." he counted out, eyes confirming that his luck was right. 18 had the sealed door.

Walking up, he looked at the keypad, and typed in the same code as earlier.

A chime, and the door clicked open. He paused, and took a long breath, before pushing through the entry.

His light danced across clean white walls and tiled floors. In the center, an old metal desk with a computer sat, facing away from him. Behind the desk, the far wall was covered with four locked vault doors, each one sealed tight.

"Well… I wonder what's in here."

Izuku closed the door behind him and rounded the desk, tapping at the keyboard to see if it was just sleeping, before reaching down and pressing the power button to the computer.

With a loud whirring it began to boot up, the screen, under a thick layer of dust, began to light up, green and black lines and rows of code and executed commands scrolling down the screen.

With a simple tone, the screen shifted to a blank white background with an entry code.

Izuku paused. "Lets see… Dragon?"

//Wrong password, try again.

He frowned. "Lets try… Numeric?"

//Wrong password, try again.

"Uhhh…" Izuku paused. And then slowly started typing once more.

Inko

//Wrong password, try again.

Izuku

//Wrong password, try again.

Izuku scowled and looked at the desk in annoyance before he saw it, half-hidden under a layer of dust. A post-it note. Carefully, he wiped it off and looked at what had been written in a fast scrawl. A faintly familiar handwriting he had seen in the rare letter or old note.

"Term of a reaction that continues unaided by the scientist."

Izuku blinked and his hands were moving before he could even say the word.

"...Cascading."

//Welcome User!

Izuku froze, blinking back tears and glancing away as the screen changed to a black desktop with rows of file. Some were titled patents or research logs, some were project names, marked by brackets and all caps. There was a journal folder…

And then in the center of the screen was a pair of video files pinned to the desktop.

To Izuku, and To Inko.

For a moment izuku could only stare, blinking back tears and biting at his fist.

10 years. These two files have been sitting here waiting for almost 10 years.

Taking a deep shuddering sigh, he moved the mouse and clicked on the file addressed to him.

A video player opened, and after a moment to buffer a video began playing. Midoriya Hisashi, shaggy dark hair pulled back in a short curly ponytail, glasses pushed up to his forehead as he rubbed at his eyes. His face was covered with a dark five o'clock shadow and he looked tired.

" Uhhh, dammit. I had a list of things to say but…" he sighed and pulled the glasses off.

"Guess I should start at the beginning. Hi, son. I'm sorry that you are watching this… Preferably I'd be able to tell you myself and then delete this message. But recent laws being passed… The Support Restriction Act."

Izuku knew about the Support Restriction Act. He and the entirety of the lab knew about it. The regulation that limited dozens of patents and drains of technology to official support items and government projects. It had been a response to a series of high profile villains with exceedingly powerful quirks and support gear. And while it was rarely invoked, it was the reason that half of Izuku's designs were technically illegal, either because they could be classed as support-level gear, or because some of the underlying principles were restricted.

" Due to this, a lot of researchers and engineers are being… recruited. Somewhat forcefully. They are calling it the I-Island program." a long sigh. " They, uh, really want me. As in, are all but demanding that me and the rest of my team join up. And with multiple companies, Japan included, supporting the program… there's not a lot of wiggle room. I left this for you and your mom so that they don't get my personal research. The rest of the labs are being cleared out by the teams right now as it is. I still own the building myself, so it won't go away or anything… which is why I'm somewhat comfortable leaving this for you and your mom. If things get bad… or you need money, you can sell them off. But the patent paperwork is still good, and will be for a few decades… and the designs are all on the computer. The vaults behind me hold the last generations of prototypes…. And a few special things I'm proud of. I only hope that you find some use for them… and remember. You are my greatest gift, my son."

The screen went black, and Izuku sat back heavily in the chair.

Then he heard a click, the vaults behind him turning from locked to open.

As he turned, the center one slowly swung out, revealing a bright green-blue glow. Sitting in it, a device barely larger then his fist, what looked like self-contained arcs of green and blue lightning encased in glass glowed majestically.

"What the actual fuck dad."

Chapter 6: Charge Up

Chapter Text

"Yo, star kid? You in here?" Byte glanced around the front of Izuku's workshop, ducking under a series of scale model 3D prints of spaceships and one of a fairly cool ring style space station that hung above him in a deconstructed web of parts. The rest of the familiar workshop was spread before him, sections of counters and work tables covered in fragments of metal and sheets of paper, from sketches and blueprints to a half dozen notebooks and clear plastic marker boards that rested against counters and hung on walls, colorful designs and formulas spread across them.

Leaning around a corner into the back half of the lab, he found Izuku with his computer.

Green curly undercut was pressed flat against the wall behind him, eyes closed and body slumped on a counter as three computer screens illuminated the scene. Izuku's research computer, a beast of a thing with some insane processing power and over forty terabytes of memory, sat running at a desk across from where the teen was passed out. At his side, a pair of laptops sat, the slow green lights blinking on them proof that they were merely sleeping or locked.

As Byte strolled across the cluttered workshop, he blinked.

"I could have sworn he only had one laptop… why does he have two?"

As he got closer he blinked at seeing a familiar piece of tech sitting on a counter, a wi-fi modem and antenna from a laptop. And beyond that, across the counter beyond Izuku was a black metallic tool chest with a combination padlock on it.

Taking all of it in, Byte reached up, rubbed his eyes, and swore under his breath.

"KID! WAKE UP!"

With a shout Izuku jerked up… and off the counter. Crashing to the floor in a pile of limbs and a chair that was next to him."GAHDHFQP"

Byte leaned over the counter. "Zuku. You've been holed up in your lab for the last 4 days. Either explain what the hell you are working on, or I'm gonna grab Epsilon and make you do a checkup."

Izuku froze, face pale from the threat. Began to explain.

"Ah, MIRIO, my boy. How are you doing today? Is the regime working out?" All Might, form currently reduced to his thinner self, eyed the thick muscle and arms of his successor as he performed pushups at the Night-Eye Hero Agency.

"I'm doing great, All-Might Sir! I think I'm almost at the point you suggested for me to Inherit." The wide smile was more natural, now. Less strained than it once looked after the offer was first made, the passing of time had calmed the young hero and let him come to terms with the fate he was offered.

"If I remember correct, as a second-year UA student you have a month-long end of semester break starting in March, correct?"

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it!" with a soft smile, Mirio looked down, hands fidgeting slightly as he thought about him and his friend's plans.

With a puff of steam, Yagi took his more muscular form "Then look forward to it even more! I plan to teach you how to use my quirk during that time! Four months and counting!" he shouted, flexing and posing.

Mirio hesitated, before smiling brightly.

"Of course, All Might Sir."

Byte stared at the glowing cube of crystal and metal designs.

"So… What is it."

"A capacitor." Izuku rubbed at his eyes, deep bags still prominent even after sleeping for the last few hours. "Though, that's understating just how insane this thing is."

"So its energy storage… How much?" Byte leaned in to see the slowly shifting arcs of electricity which seemed to be slowly filtering through the crystals inner layers around a pair of black metal rods.

"Those electrical arcs are apparently actual fucking Lightning strikes." Izuku glared at the capacitor, the crippled wireless free laptop on his legs clicking as he turned it around to show a short video of a lightning strike hitting the capacitor as it hung above a building…. And the bolt of power just vanishing.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"It's a crystalline hyper conductive surface with insane energy storage thresholds. The outer coating is a resin that's a near-perfect insulator, and the metallic system inside is precision power regulator. Those lightning bolts have sat in it for a decade, and so far I have seen little to no degradation or leakage compared to my dad's records." Izuku groaned as he snagged the cube from the counter and set it aside, turning to a paper thin rolled up a sheet of black hexagons bordered in thin gold borders. "And this is nearly as fucking crazy," Rolling out the sheet, the hexagon pattern extended across the entire thing, with only a thin rod-like end on one side breaking the pattern.

"And what is this."

"Micro Solar cell arrays. With 64.5% efficiency, solar to electrical conversion. Less than 5 percent less than the theorized maximum input you can get through the atmosphere. The issue is that the cells are thin and fairly fragile… unless you place them behind a conductive resin like-" He pulled out a sealed container, setting it next to the cells. "-this one. Efficiency drops to around 57%, which still nearly doubles standardized photovoltaic cells."

Honestly, Byte wasn't sure he was awake, or if he was dreaming.

The kid, the youngest member of the lab, the insane young genius... Had gotten military grade power systems.

"What the hell are you going to do with it, Izuku?"

For a moment, Izuku looked away, before, sliding the maimed laptop aside and waking up his PC. "Close the curtains and turn off the lights."

Frowning at the shift of mood, Byte darkened the room, turning back to see a large table was just cleared off and colorful lights shone from 8 points, four around the table edges, and four from the ceiling down.

With a flicker, a hologram took place, and Byte could only stare in confusion… and then with wide eyes and loose jaws as he figured out what he was looking at.

"What the hell is this."

"This?" Izuku grinned in the dark, eyes tracing the long smooth shape and its series of thrusters and clamps. "This is a testing rig."

"It's a Hoverboard Kid, and isn't most of that shit Illegal?" Byte paced around the design, looking at sleek lines and curves.

"Actually, there's something funny about that. There's exemptions written into the law, amendments and such… and one of them happens to be by a Sports and Recreation company." "What?" Izuku tapped at a few buttons and a series of folders opened, three more designs and a text document floating in the air. A helmet, a full body suit, a pair of high tech boots, and a legal amendment to a law.

"If I fly this… while on it, then it falls under the X-games exemption from 3 years ago. It's considered a powered sporting vehicle, not an illegal rocket or drone."

"...Izuku. Are you serious? Half the time your engines burn out, you barely understand your dad's research, and the speeds and G force that board would put you under could kill y-"

"I KNOW." a shout cut off Bytes building rant, Izuku pushing off his computers and running his hand through his curly locks as he paced towards the window, pushing the curtain wide as he looked out over the few buildings before the coast and at the rising sun coming up over the ocean.

"I know, that this is insane. You think I haven't know that?" The voice was soft and hoarse as Izuku rested his hand on the window, his frame cast in sunlight as he looked out. "I checked, byte. I ran through every bit of legislation, every ruling and judgment for and against the support restrictions in the last week. And I… I feel like I'm running out of time, Byte. That the world is gonna put up more red tape and that the stars are getting further and further away."

Byte closed his eyes and sat back against the counter, eyes closing in anger as he saw streams of tears drip from Izuku to the ground.

"Heroes… Villains… They made the government afraid, made people forget that we were once explorers. We got so caught up in the changes upon us, that we forgot the changes we were pushing to make to the rest of the universe. Space flights and falling satellites and dozens of expeditions to the rest of the universe… canceled. Japan was going to be there. We were on the cutting edge, the front of the pack. There was a race, a push…. And than quirks happened and we got so caught up in the craze we looked away from the sky. The ISS fell apart… Hubble is half dead and expected to lose orbit in the next decade, the rest of our gateways to space is covered in hundreds of thousands of pieces of satellites and debris. Three hundred years of littering in orbit, of not caring about it." Sighing, Izuku looked back and his eyes were sharp as broken glass. "I am sick and tired, of keeping my feet on the ground. Of being reasonable about my goals. Of letting a scared and hurt society pull me down with them!"

Byte looked away, realizing how his outburst had hit deeper than he had considered. "Byte…. I wanna fly."

"Izuku… I-" Byte stammered, trying to find a way to explain, to convince this kid not to kill himself for a dream.

"Stop talking and do it, Kid."

The voice made Izuku and Byte jump in surprise, the worn face of Tetsu stepping from around the corner of the workshop, hands hidden in the sleeves of his Kimono, as his eyes focused on Izuku.

The air felt… electric.

"You want to reach the sky, to stand on the moon, to walk the stars, then you need to do it. Build the board. Hit the ground running and take off with everything you can use. Just don't be suicidal when you do it." a gesture of his hand and the glowing Capacitor floated and darted to his grasp, where he held it up with a considering look. "Your father was a genius who was held back by the greed of the Corporate and Government masses, and even now is locked away by contracts… Support courses would lock you tighter than he ever was. For all the legend that was Midoriya Hisashi, the Man of Power, was among the scientific community, I feel confident that his son, that you, the Starseeker, the Horizon breaker…. That you will surpass your father in every way that matters."

For a moment, Tetsu looked old and worn. "I knew your father kid. He would be proud of you so far, and he would back you every step of the way." Izuku was stunned, his heart in his throat as he stared at the old swordsman, even as a gentle toss sent the power cell floating to rest on the table.

As Tetsu turned to walk away, Izuku found his voice. "Sensei… Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet kid!" the old man chuckled. "You'll need to explain to Epsilon about your plan so she can check you over and do her magic."

Izuku paled, and then set his jaw and nodded. "Got it."

Byte groaned, glasses pulled off as he rubbed at his eyes. "You know. I thought you were both crazy, and now this proves it." Izuku and Tetsu glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, before Byte sighed, and looked up. "I'm with you kid, but expect that I'm going to make you explain every fucking thing you plan to do. Cause I need to make sure you think things through. Case in point, where do you plan to test this?"

Izuku paused and looked out at the sun glinting off the edge of the sea down below. And of the long thin line of rusty metal where a beach was.

"I think I have an idea for that."