35-37

Chapter 35: Dreams

Eyes pressed tightly shut, Izuku clung to the strand of webbing for dear life as the world around him exploded. He didn't fully realize what was happening, but he knew that if he let go, he would die.

So he held on.

Occasionally a flying metal splinter would graze his body or some molten slag would land against his skin causing him to shout out, but he wouldn't let go. He couldn't just let himself succumb. Eventually the bright lights behind his eyelids faded and he opened his eyes.

He saw he was hanging mere metres above the flaming wreckage of the electrical substation, swaying back and forth mere feet away from certain death. Fountains of sparks and orange flames were erupting from the destroyed capacitors causing the water-soaked ground below to hiss and bubble from the heat. Behind him, the remaining capacitors in the yard were exploding but he didn't have the energy to worry about that right now. He needed to staunch his bleeding.

Peeling back his shredded suit with his free hand, he tried his hardest to concentrate while he inspected his chest. What he saw wasn't pretty. Great flaps of skin were hanging off of his stomach, and the underlying muscle was exposed. He couldn't say how long he had, but considering that his legs felt like they were drenched in blood, he figured he didn't have long before he passed out and fell into the electric hell below him - assuming the heat didn't get him first.

Pressing his spare hand down on his largest wound, he desperately looked around for an escape option. There was nothing above him to climb to and even if he could he suspected that the only thing keeping him from getting fried like a mosquito in a bug zapper was his electrically insulated web. If he so much as even touched the metal around him, he'd be toasted. There were plenty of buildings in range, but he was too close to the ground. If he tried swinging towards them, he'd touch the water and bye-bye Spidey. He could cocoon himself, but even half dead from blood loss he knew that was a stupid idea. He'd basically be giftwrapping himself for the cops.

There was only one thing he could do. Arching himself backward, he swung out his legs. The movement created a small ripple on the strand and he moved forward slightly. Swinging himself backward, he repeated the motion only in reverse. Repeating, he slowly but steadily built up his momentum. The first few swings nearly caused him to faint from the effort but as he got faster, the effort became easier. Soon he was swinging fully back and forward, very nearly touching the sparking electrical apparatus around him.

Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for the next step. Once he was convinced, he had reached the highest potential energy possible, he waited for his speed to gather and just as his swinging carried him up, he released the strand and went catapulting forward.

Flipping through the air, he fired twin strands of web from both of his shooters at the closest building in front of him. Latching on to the brick ledge of the roof, he pulled as hard as he could to accelerate himself forward. Despite his waning strength, he was able to pull hard enough that his body flung over to the ledge of the building. Hitting his chest against the wall, he was dimly aware of a flare up of pain but he ignored it. Instead he focused on just pulling himself up.

Flopping over the brick roof ledge, he collapsed down on the tarred rooftop and lay there panting. Breathing deeply, he struggled to swallow but his mouth was so dry he could only flex his throat painfully. After what felt like a few seconds of just laying there, he turned and began to crawl away from the firestorm.

He might have escaped the yard, but he'd be dead soon without medical assistance. Fumbling for his pocket, he retrieved his phone.

I need to find a clinic, fast! Do a smash and grab for some blood bags and gauze. Doesn't have to be pretty or complicated, I just need to stop the bleeding. 

However, try as he might, he couldn't reactivate his phone. After mashing the power button a few times and blinking in dimwitted confusion, he let out a low groan.

The electric fields from the…thing or whatever must have fried my battery. Now what do I do?

Slouching over, he tried his hardest to think, but it was taking almost all of his brainpower just to stay conscious, let alone come up with an exit strategy. After a few seconds, he hauled himself back to his feet.

If I can't go to the hospital, I'll bring the hospital to me. I just…need to hold on for a little while longer…

Stumbling forward, he inched across the rooftop away from the inferno. Sliding down the building wall, he headed for a darkened alley and waited.

The three paramedics rode in tense silence as their ambulance raced along the freeway behind the convoy of firetrucks and police cruisers. As they drove, cars dutifully pulled off to the shoulder of the highway to allow them past but it was still slow going. Several people had parked their cars on the side of the road and had crowded along the concrete divider overlooking the city to get a better view of the massive blaze in the distance.

The ambulance crew was less enthused. They had been on high alert for the last sixteen hours and had seen enough destruction to last a lifetime. Following the breakout at Tartarus they had driven from disaster to disaster, hauling the wounded to the hospital as every psycho in the city seemed to have decided that tonight was the night to cut loose.

Glancing over the dash, the driver of the ambulance felt a bead of sweat roll down his face as he saw the enormous column of smoke and flame rising in the distance. At that moment there was another explosion in the yard and his co-driver swore softly. Electrical fires were dangerous at the best of times, let alone at night in the middle of a crisis.

Switching his attention back to the freeway, the ambulance driver's eyes widened. Slamming on the breaks, he narrowly avoided colliding with the firetruck in front of him. His fellow paramedics said nothing as he turned and followed the firetruck around a car that had broken down in the middle of the lane. He couldn't afford to let his mind wander now. No matter how tired he was, he needed to focus.

Taking an exit, the emergency response vehicles rapidly picked up speed as they entered the thankfully clear road leading to the electrical substation. All of the surrounding buildings were warehouses and light industry so hopefully they were empty in case the fire spread. As he sped down the road, the dash mounted radio suddenly crackled to life.

'EMS Eleven respond.'

The driver's co-pilot grabbed the corded radio head.

'Receiving.'

'EMS Eleven, possible mass causality at electrical station. Company confirms three workers present at site, over.'

'Understood dispatch. Eleven out.'

As his co-pilot returned the receiver to its cradle, the paramedic riding in the back seat let out a snort of frustration.

'Three confirmed? They should've sent two cars. What is dispatch thinking?' he muttered angrily.

Neither the driver or his co-pilot responded. Truth was, every other ambulance was busy with another emergency and they all knew that, he was just venting. But that didn't stop him from being right. They would need two cars. If there were too many wounded, they'd likely have to rely on the police or fire department for additional transportation, which certainly wouldn't help them treat any injuries.

Blowing past the remaining few blocks, the ambulance came to a screeching halt as the convoy stopped. They had arrived. While his fellows moved to the back to ready their gear, the driver toggled the radio and contacted dispatch.

'Dispatch, this is Eleven. We're at the station.'

'Copy. Be advised there are no heroes on site and villain activity has been reported in the area. I repeat: site unsafe.'

The driver heard the other two paramedics stop packing and he swore. There was supposed to be a pro here already! How could they evacuate the wounded if the guy who destroyed the place was still hanging around? They didn't have time for this!

'Uh, understood. Stand-by dispatch.'

He looked back at his two partners. His co-pilot nodded and the other threw up his hands in frustration.

'Fuck it.' he said, 'We're here, aren't we?'

The driver nodded and turned back to his radio.

'Dispatch, Eleven will proceed with search and rescue. Stand-by for casualty report.'

'Understood, Eleven. Good luck.'

At that the three grabbed their medical bags and a collapsible stretcher each and ran out the back. Coming around the firetrucks, the paramedics moved to join the police and firemen who had gathered by the chain link gate. A few dozen metres away, the power station was still exploding. Twisted scraps of flaming wreckage covered the yard and gouts of flame were shooting fireballs far overhead. Even from as far away as they were the heat was blistering and soon everyone was covered in sweat.

'Any sign of the wounded?' bellowed the driver to a police sergeant.

'No.' barked the cop, 'If there are any, they're in there.' he said, pointing into the blaze.

Shielding their eyes, the paramedics squinted to where the cop was pointing. Just barely he could make out cluster of steel corrugated shacks. White hot flames were pouring out their warped windows as they buckled from the intense heat. Face burning, the driver covered himself and looked away.

Maybe dispatch was right to just send one car. If the workers were still in there, then they were long past saving.

By this point the firemen had managed to get their equipment ready and were advancing towards the gate. Getting out of their way, the paramedics retreated back to the vehicles. Before any of them could decide what to do, a voice suddenly shouted at them from the side.

'Yo, we found those workers! Yo!'

Turning they looked over to another policeman who was flagging them over. Grabbing their gear, they rushed over to him.

'We found those maintenance guys. They're trapped in some sort 'a goo.' said the cop.

'Where?'

'That building.' the cop said pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, 'You might need some help getting to 'em, but they're alive.'

Without wasting another second, they rushed over. Entering, they soon found three wriggling masses of white substance stuck to the side of the wall. Setting down their equipment, the three paramedics, approached the men cautiously. They didn't know what the white stuff encasing them was, but it was safe to assume that it was quirk related and when it came to quirks you always had to be careful.

'Hey! This is emergency medical services! Can you hear me?' shouted one of the paramedics next to one of the ensnared men.

'MmmHmmmMMMMmm!' came a muffled reply.

'Damn! They're completely covered up! Get out your knife. We need to cut this stuff off before they suffocate!'

Reaching into their bags, each of them started slicing and picking at the gooey wrapping with their knives, but it was no use. The stuff was too sticky and their blades kept getting stuck. Just as they were about to give up, a group of firemen entered.

'Hey! Can you guys cut this stuff?' called out the driver, 'Our knives won't work!'

'We can try.'

Moving in. The firemen tried their own cutting tools but they had as much success as the paramedics. Finally, one of the firemen pulled out a sharpened metal breathing tube designed to puncture through walls to release smoke. By carefully working it around the goo, the fireman was able to create a small hole through which appeared a man's mouth.

'Gah!' shouted the trapped man, 'What's going on?'

'We're with emergency response. You're in a warehouse. We found you stuck in this white coating. Are you injured?' said one of the paramedics.

'What? W-Warehouse? I-I, uh, no I'm not injured. I don't think so anyway.' said the man.

'Do you work for the power company at the electrical substation?' asked one of the firemen.

'Yeah. Me and my two buddies are the nightshift maintenance crew.'

The paramedics and firemen exchanged relieved looks. With the exception of whoever started the fire, everyone was accounted for.

'Listen: there's been a fire at the substation. Do you know what might have caused it?'

'Beats me.' said the trapped man, 'I didn't see anything. The last thing I remember was fucking Spider-Man bursting through the goddamn window and covering me in this…stuff.'

At the mention of Spider-Man everyone grew tense once more. What if he was still in the area?

'Here, you guys stay here and try and get them free.' said the driver, 'I'm going to call this in.'

'You got it.'

After informing the police sergeant that Spider-Man was in the area the driver returned to his ambulance. As he approached the rear of his van, he noticed that the door to the back was wide open. Unless you were actively moving or treating a patient the door was supposed to be kept closed. There were a lot of junkies in Musutafu and an unattended ambulance was a prime target for someone looking to score some painkillers. With a sigh, he slammed it shut before hustling to the cab. Climbing in, he grabbed his radio.

'Dispatch this is Eleven. The electrical workers have been located. They appear uninjured, but claim they were attacked by Spider-Man. Requesting hero back up.'

'Understood Eleven. I'll see who's available, but don't hold your breath.'

The paramedic sighed again.

'Understood dispatch. Eleven out.'

Taking a deep breath, the paramedic looked through his left sideview mirror back at the fire. All things considered maybe he had gotten lucky. Assuming Spider-Man wasn't still skulking around that is. After taking a moment to have a drink of water he hopped out the cab. Turning, he started to walk back to the warehouse when he suddenly noticed the rear to the ambulance was slightly ajar.

'What the hell…?' he murmured.

Walking back around the doors, he flung them wide. He swore at what he saw. All of the cabinet doors in the medical deck were open and miscellaneous medical supplies lay strewn across the floor where someone had no doubt been searching. Face drawn, the paramedic entered the ambulance and went to the pharmacy. The metal latch securing their drugs had been snapped. Resignedly opening the drawer, he saw that everything was missing. They'd only been on site for a few minutes and they'd been picked clean.

Groaning, he rested his head against his arm. Dispatch would not be pleased.

While the paramedic was busy trying to explain how his ambulance got raided, Izuku was hunched over in the cleaning closet of a textile factory a few blocks away; wrapping his torso in gauze while an IV that he had jury rigged to a mop handle drip fed him blood. Despite feeling like he had been wrung out until he was ripped open, at least he was feeling much more aware – even if that did mean he felt terrible.

I think that's good enough. He thought, running a hand down his now bandaged midsection. Hopefully my regeneration can handle the rest. Now, how about a little pick me up?

He turned his head to the treasure trove of drugs he had snatched from the back of the ambulance. There were pain killers galore, but he wasn't sure how to dose himself. Were four milligrams of hydromorphine too much? Too little?

After hemming and hawing for a minute or two, he settled on just taking antibiotics. His bandages were supposed to be antiseptic, but he didn't trust Doppelganger to not have some weird disease.

He grimaced at the thought of Stain.

I'm pretty sure he's dead. He…he must be dead, right? He fell back into the electrical boxes just as they blew up.

He felt an upwelling of guilt and he quickly shook his head. Killing Stain had been the right thing to do. It had to be. Stain had become an unthinking monster. If it had been him, he would have welcomed death happily.

If Dr. Akatani had his way, or if the transformation had gone differently, maybe someone would have been forced to put me down. Hell, what am I talking about "forced"? It's not like I did it on purpose. The fact that I'm not BBQ myself or being digested right now is a miracle.

However, despite his justifications he still felt guilty. No matter how he sliced it, he had killed someone. After a few minutes of solemn consideration, he noticed that the blood bag was empty. Unhooking himself, he took his left-over medical supplies and tossed them in a garbage bag. Picking it up on his way out, he snuck back to the employee lockers and stole a loose-fitting jacket to cover himself with before heading back out into the streets. Tossing the bag of drugs in a nearby dumpster, he considered where he could crash until sunup.

While Izuku searched for a bridge to spend the rest of the night under, a lone boat was slowly making its way out of Musutafu Bay. To the untrained eye it appeared to be no different then any number of the other watercraft leaving or entering the harbour, but this was no ordinary vessel.

For starters, it was heading out to sea without proper clearance from the harbour master. Such a transgression would normally result in the vessel being unable to leave port, however at the moment the harbour master was sitting at his desk with his throat slit and was in no condition to police the waterway. Even so, the boat should have been detected by coastal radar and left to the coast guard, yet the radar array had been unfortunately sabotaged mere moments ago. With the authorities preoccupied trying to direct the freighter traffic, and no available ships to intercept them, the tiny boat was able to slowly sail away from Musutafu and carry its passengers to freedom.

This was all to the exacting plan of the vessel's self-appointed captain who stood scowling at the helm, glaring at the distant coastline. Physically, the man was unimpressive. Short, paunchy, and with thick glasses, he appeared to be just an ordinary man, definitely not someone you would expect to be a supervillain. While he stood there in silence, a lanky black-haired man entered the cabin and hailed him.

'Well Doc, looks like your plan payed off. Lighten up, huh? We're free!' he said, grinning broadly.

'I will "lighten up" once we are at the safe house. Return to your station and monitor the area for outgoing radio signals.' barked the squat man without turning.

The black-haired man rolled his eyes. Spotting a pack of cigarettes tucked into a small tray on a table, he stepped across the tiny room and grabbed the pack. Plucking one out, he put the cigarette to his lips which immediately lit itself. Drawing deeply, the man held the smoke for a second before exhaling with relish. As the smoke reached him, the captain's scowl deepened but he said nothing while the black-haired man behind him continued smoking.

'Yep.' said the man, cheerfully, 'Tell you what, after spending four years in a rubberized, insulated cell it feels good to be out and about. To feel the air on your skin-'

The captain let out an annoyed scoff and turned.

'Your amorous musings of being a free man are wasted on me, Dillion. And I would question the validity of any such statement while we are being pursued. Further, I-'

At that moment the door opened again and a third man squeezed into the cabin. Standing at over six and a half feet tall, the large, muscle bound man towered over the other two and would have been quite imposing were he not clutching his stomach in distress. In one step he crossed the tiny cabin and over to a bench against the wall. Puffing loudly, he sat and looked over at the captain.

'Doc, why'd we have to take a boat? Why a boat?' he said queasily, 'All this rocking and sloshing– It isn't natural!'

The captain rolled his eyes. Turning away from him, he went back to guiding the wheel.

'I understand your reluctance to stray too far from land, Mr. Baker. However, this is the only means of escape that I was able to source from Herman. I realize the accommodations are not spacious, but they are only temporary I assure you. Herman guaranteed me that once he is able to establish contact with some of the old elements of his organization, we will have additional resources at our disposal.'

'Some criminal empire.' snorted Dillion, 'He controlled all of Musutafu and he didn't even have one escape route? If it were me, I'd have a yacht with a full bar, babes, and a mountain of cash, ready to go!'

The captain let out a disappointed sigh at his subordinate's stupidity, 'If we'd tried to be so conspicuous, we would have been caught in minutes. Think! Modest though it may be, this vessel is sufficient for our immediate purposes and is adequately nondescript. We must exercise discretion, or would you prefer to end up like our comrade Sytsevich?'

Dillion said nothing. After the six of them had escaped from Tartarus, Sytsevich had decided to run off and enjoy himself for a while instead of following the plan and they had been forced to leave the giant lummox behind. Later while eavesdropping on the radio waves over the city, he had intercepted a communication from All Might saying he had taken him out. Sytsevich may be built like a rhino, but he was also about as smart as one.

'We going to rescue him?' Baker asked in a surprisingly concerned voice.

'Perhaps.' said the captain coldly, 'If it is convenient. Once our notoriety has lessened and we can re-establish ourselves in Musutafu, I will worry about recruitment. For now, our small number lends us a distinct advantage.'

'Hm. If we're returning to Musutafu then that means we'll need to contend with Spider-Man.' Dillion said thoughtfully, 'Once he learns that Herman is back in town, he probably won't just sit on his hands.'

'We will deal with him when the time comes. He stands no chance against the Sinister Six.'

'Five without Rhino.'

'Yes, yes, I…' suddenly the captain went silent. Whirling around he faced his two men, a furious look on his face.

'Idiots!' he shouted and the two snapped up, 'Why are you not at your stations?! Go! Go, you miserable lumps! Is my genius labouring for nothing?! Must I always be burdened by your pitiful intellect?! Simple instructions! I give you such simple instructions, yet-'

Before he could continue his rant, the two men turned and fled out the cabin. He stared after them for a moment before turning back to the ship's wheel. As he navigated out towards the open sea, he began to lightly tap his finger against the steering wheel.

It didn't feel right. Fleeing his hometown like he was, but he had no choice. He needed to rebuild, reacquire resources, form strategic partnerships, and infiltrate the social landscape before returning to Musutafu. But he would be back. He promised the courts when he was sentenced to that hellhole that he would be back, and Dr. Otto Octavius always kept his promises.

Several hours later, Izuku awoke beneath the bridge he was curled up under to a trickle of dust falling on his mask from the rumbling traffic above. Yawning deeply, his yawn quickly turned to a groan of pain as his stomach tensed up. Reaching underneath his suit, he felt around his bandages but he couldn't say whether his injuries were better or worse.

Standing upside down, he looked out over the water and towards the city. Judging by the sun, it was probably nearing midmorning and his mother would be expecting him home soon.

As he clambered across the steel beams that intersected the bottom half of the bridge, he wondered how he would approach his mother with his injuries this time.

Maybe it would be better if I didn't say anything and just hope for the best. So long as she doesn't see my bandages, I should be okay.

Climbing between two girders, the too large jacket that he had taken from the textile factory suddenly got snagged on a loose rivet. With a sigh, he ripped the hem loose before continuing.

I'll need to get some new clothes before I head home. Mom'll probably ask questions if I show up wearing some random, giant, cigarette stinking, windbreaker.

Reaching the end of the bridge, he hopped down to the trash covered embankment next to the water's edge.

'Oof!' he exclaimed as he hit the ground. Even though he'd only fallen a few stories, his legs very nearly collapsed from the pain in his stomach.

Damn! I knew I should have taken some painkillers! Fuuuuck…

Regaining his bearings he scaled the trash covered embankment towards the street and waited. Once there was a break in traffic, he hobbled as quickly as he could across the road and into an alleyway that ran behind a row of small shops. He'd left his hoodie, pants, and shoes stashed by Dr. Akatani's hotel all the way on the other side of town and he'd need some fresh clothes before he went anywhere.

Walking through the alleyway, he came upon the rear door of a small clothing store. Glancing around, he nonchalantly leaned up against the door and listened. There were a pair of employees inside listening to the radio as they prepared to open for the day, but that was it.

This shouldn't be too hard. I'll just grab some pants, a hoodie, and a pair of shoes and be on my way.

One by one, he gripped the bolts securing the door to its frame and popped them off. Once the door was free, he propped it against the wall before entering.

Sneaking past a few cardboard boxes of loosely piled merchandise, he tiptoed through a curtained off doorway and into the store proper. As he entered, he spotted the two employees he had overheard standing by the store windows dressing the mannequins. Slipping between the aisles, he gave them a wide berth as his eyes darted over the labels.

Doesn't have to be anything fancy, just enough to get by…let's see…

As he quickly checked through a rack of hoodie's, the employee's conversation continued unabated.

'Did your power go out last night?'

'Yep. My alarm clock didn't go off and I almost overslept. You?'

'Mmhmm, my computer shorted out while I was doing my homework. Come Monday, I'm fucked.'

'Ouch.'

'Yeah…'

Should've bought a UPS my dude. Thought Izuku absently as he tried to decide between a red hoodie and a green one. Grabbing the green, he rehung the red hoodie before scurrying over to the men's jeans.

'Do you know why the power went out?'

'Nope. Was there a villain attack?'

'Yeah, there was. And get this, you know Spider-Man? Well he's dead!'

Pants halfway up his legs, Izuku froze and looked over at the two employees in surprise.

'Really? How'd he die?'

'Apparently he was messing around with some, like, high voltage wires or something and blew himself up.'

'Ha! What an idiot.'

As the two laughed, Izuku paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

I guess the authorities must have found Stain's body and assumed it was me. That's weird. The government must know better. What are they playing at declaring me dead? Maybe the media just screwed up…

'Anyway, what're you doing later? If you're already doomed, why not get drunk with me and the boys?'

While the two chatted, he finished dressing himself. Grabbing a pair of shoes, he snuck out the way he had come. Once he was outside, he calmly walked over to the subway and stole aboard the train back home. It was late morning by the time he finally arrived at his apartment. As he trekked up the winding staircase, his mind was busily thinking about what being "dead" meant. Everyone at the League of Villains knew that he was hunting down his copycat so it was unlikely that they would assume he was dead, nor did he want them to. After all the trouble he had gone through to get accepted by those loonies he didn't want them replacing him for the mission. What was more concerning was the government's stance. Did the announcement of his demise mean that the hero agencies had given up?

I guess I'll find out sooner or later. He mused as he at last arrived at his floor, I wonder if Knuckleduster thinks I'm dead?

At last arriving on his floor, he tried to walk as normally as he could to his apartment. Stopping outside, he did another last-minute inspection of himself. Just by looking at him, you would have no idea that he was injured. After combing his dishevelled hair with his fingers, he took a deep breath, opened the door, and went inside.

Walking in, Izuku greeted his mother who was busily ironing some clothes by the television. Lifting her head up from her work, she pursed her lips and gave him an appraising look.

'Good morning, Izuku.' she said stiffly, 'New clothes?'

'Huh?'

He looked down in slight confusion before quickly snapping his attention back to her.

'Uh…Y-Yeah! I, um, needed to…wash my old clothes but uh…The people I was staying with? Their dryer was broken, well not b-broken per se, just that the, uh, power was out so I borrowed some… clothes while they dried. Yeah.'

He cleared his throat. She was just looking at him; considering his words. There was no way in hell she was buying any of his story.

'A-Anyway, how're things?' he asked.

'Fine.' she said briskly.

'Good. That's…good.'

Izuku and his mother stood staring at each other for a few more moments before he cleared his throat again and began inching his way towards his room.

'W-Well, I'll leave you to it then. I'm gonna go…study. The end of term tests are coming up and I need to make sure I stay on track, you know? I-I'll be in my room.'

She opened her mouth to say something, but then appeared to reconsider. Instead she gave him a curt nod and returned to her folding. Sidling past her, he stiffly walked to his room. Once he had closed his door, he let out a long, hissing breath.

That was dreadful.

Going to his computer, he tried to sit at his desk but quickly stopped as he felt his stomach flair up again. Biting back a gasp of pain, he pivoted around and went to his bed instead. Easing himself down, he lay back and groaned.

As he lay back and tried to relax, his eyes went to his window. As he looked outside, he noticed movement against the glass. The spider was back and was busy spinning a new web. Watching it work, he let his mind go blank for awhile. Between the stretches of silk, he noticed the city starting up again. Despite the nightmare it had been through cars were pulling out into the streets and people were emerging from their houses to go about their business. Would they ever know about Stain? It probably didn't matter. Just like all the threats that had come before, and all the threats that were to come, life continued.

He closed his eyes. He would need to gather his strength. There were sure to be other villains out there and Spider-Man would need to be ready.

Chapter 36: Routine

Izuku stumbled into class just as the bell chimed. Despite it being a Monday, he couldn't remember the last time he was so happy to be at school. During the weekend, he had tried to just quietly relax and recover from his injuries at home, but his mother had been unbearable. All weekend she had hovered around him, asking him questions about his friends, his schoolwork, and what he was up to. He couldn't take it, but with his body still feeling wrecked he had no other option then to endure it.

While his classmates were busily arranging their things on their workbenches, they were all excitedly chatting away about their internships and what they had been up to. A few of them called out to him, but he pretended not to hear and kept moving. He had a headache and wasn't in the mood to talk.

Arriving at his own table, he unceremoniously upended his back pack and gingerly took his seat. His stomach was killing him.

As he winced, Moyashi who was already sitting, glanced over.

'Tough week?' he asked.

'You have no idea.' Izuku responded as he attempted to get as comfortable as possible on the rigid chair, 'How was yours?'

'Pretty good. I know how to build a washing machine now.'

'Ah, career opportunities abound. Good for you.' Izuku mumbled as he settled his head down on top of his backpack.

At that moment Power Loader entered the class and the conversations died away.

'Welcome back everyone.' Power Loader said, 'I know that you all had an exciting week and are eager to share your experiences interning, but let's not get distracted. Midterms are coming up and we all just lost a week of school time so you'll have to work twice as hard I'm afraid.'

The class let out a winding groan and Power Loader grinned.

'Yes. So, if you would all please open your textbooks to page 214…'

After enduring Power Loader's lengthy exam prep session, Izuku's head felt like it was going to explode. Bumbling after his classmates to the cafeteria, he slouched over on the bench and moaned miserably. Several of his classmates grinned at him before going back to their own lunches.

'What's the matter Izuku? Have a tummy ache?' Mei teased as she took her seat across from him.

'Yes, actually.'

She tittered. Pulling out her own lunch, she bit into her sandwich with relish. Izuku watched her forlornly. For the last few days he couldn't handle anything besides soft foods. Opening the tin to his meagre pudding, he began to spoon feed himself.

'Hey guys…' Saigo said as he sat down, 'Don't look now, but class 1-A is giving us the stink eye.'

Naturally, everyone ignored him and immediately looked up or twisted around in their chairs to see. Sure enough all the members of class 1-A was glaring towards Izuku and Mei. Izuku felt his spider-sense flutter. They sure did look pissed off.

'Do you think they're still upset about the Sports Festival?' Hiretsuna asked worriedly.

'Naw.' Mei said, haphazardly waving her sandwich over at class 1-A's table and their scowls deepened, 'They're just mad because of what me and Izuku did last week.'

'Oh? What did you do?' Bukimi asked eagerly.

Here we go… Izuku thought, suppressing a grin as Mei rushed to finish swallowing her food.

'Well! We….'

Izuku listened with the rest of the class as Mei told them all about their prank. When she got to the part about the mysterious packages several of his classmates exclaimed in disbelief.

'No way! You actually did that? What if they caught you guys?' one of their classmates asked.

Mei gave a casual shrug, though the effect was ruined somewhat by her own nervous smile.

'I'm surprised you went along with it, Izuku. I kind of thought you were smarter than that.' Saigo said, jostling him in the ribs playfully. The hit caused him to double over coughing.

'Y-Yeah.' Izuku said weakly, 'You're telling me.'

'Well what's done is done.' Mei declared, dusting the crumbs off herself, 'It was for their own good really. I consider it after school training.'

'I'm just surprised you'd alienate potential customers, Mei.' Kiska said evilly and Mei's smile instantly vanished.

'W-What?' Mei said fearfully, 'No! Th-They wouldn't be so petty. It was just a harmless prank!'

She looked around for support but nobody said anything and she dropped her head to the table.

'Izuku!' she moaned, 'Why'd I let you talk me into this? Argh, this is a PR nightmare!'

'Kiska has a point, Mei.' Bukimi added, grinning as Mei started to cradle her head in her arms, 'You'd better hope their boycott doesn't spread either. You know how things are with new businesses. Just one black mark on your reputation and…' Bukimi drew his hand across his throat and made a choking sound. Mei stood.

'I-I can salvage this!' she muttered, smoothing out her uniform, 'If I go and…explain the situation then I'm sure they'll understand. Are you coming Izuku?'

He shook his head.

'No. I don't really care too much. Feel free to throw me under the bus though.'

'Right. Wish me luck.'

Shoulders squared and chin held high, she strode off towards class 1-A's table and Izuku perked up in alarm.

'Hey, Mei! Wait! I was kidding! Leave me out of it!' he shouted after her, but she must not have heard because she kept walking.

Lowering his head back to the table, he rested his forehead against its cool surface and sighed.

Well…It could be worse, I guess. At least I won't have any of the class 1-A kids coming up to me and asking for me to build them anything. I have enough work as it is.

Meanwhile in city hall, a professionally dressed man was standing in front of the district ballot centre sweating through his shirt. He was the campaign manager for the beleaguered election team for the incumbent mayor. It had been a harrowing year. His boss's campaign had been mired in one controversy after the other. Between the corruption allegations, the brothel sex scandal, and the various media leaks he had thought he was fighting for a lost cause.

Not that he'd ever resign though. Goodness no. He may be an alcoholic, manic depressive with a cocaine addiction, but he wasn't suicidal. If he even so much as tried to call in sick he'd be found floating headless in the bay.

Biting a fingernail, he watched unblinking as the poll numbers began to close. His employer had a slight edge, but the lower income districts had yet to be counted. Normally he wouldn't be too concerned about the numbers, they could buy whatever district they wanted, but this wasn't like last year. Public opinion had notably shifted and several NGO's were carefully monitoring the election.

Suddenly the poll numbers began to come in and the man's jaw dropped in surprise. The voters were almost unanimously in his parties' favour. Breaking out into a wide grin, he stood motionless as the room around him broke out in applause and cheering.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he spun on his heels and began fast walking to the exit. As he went, several people stopped to slap his back or give him a high-five. He would shake their hands or smile, but he was too preoccupied to stop. He needed to see the mayor and tell him the good news.

Rushing through the building, he raced up to the top floor. Coming to the mayor's office, he burst into the waiting area where the mayor's pretty receptionist was busily inspecting her nails. She glanced up when she heard him approaching.

'So, what's the word?' she asked in an unenthused voice.

'No need to dust off the ol' resume, you still have a job.' he said jokingly. She stared in response, one eyebrow raised, a look of clear disdain on her face. Slowly his laughter petered out and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, 'Is he in?'

The woman sat up straighter in her chair and put aside her file. Pressing a button on her desktop phone, she spoke:

'Mr. Fisk? Mr. Nott is here to see you.'

'Very well. Send him in.'

The receptionist reached beneath her desk and pressed a different button and the mayor's office door unlocked with a soft *ping*.

'Go on ahead.'

'Thank you.' he said, stepping forward. After taking two steps he stopped and turned back to face her, 'You know, we're all going to celebrate at Tōtsuki's. If you're free-'

'Mr. Nott, don't press your luck. Mr. Fisk is waiting.' she said in a bored voice.

'R-Right.'

Swallowing back his disappointment, he turned back and pushed open the giant doors to the mayor's office. Stepping into the room, he saw Mr. Fisk standing behind his desk with his back to the door. He was facing the glass windows, staring out into the city.

Walking through the spacious mahogany office and around the large table sized desk, he stopped in the newly re-elected mayor's shadow and cleared his throat.

'Mr. Fisk, the election results are in.'

'And?' Mr. Fisk rumbled in his deep baritone voice without turning.

'C-Congratulations, we've – I mean, you – have been re-elected.'

Mr. Fisk turned and Nott resisted the urge to take a step backward. Even under these circumstances his boss was an intimidating man. Standing well over a meter taller and likely weighing a couple hundred pounds more, he had no doubt that the giant could effortlessly crush him as easily as he might an empty can. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he didn't have good news. Mr. Fisk studied him for a moment.

'Mr. Nott,' started Fisk and he felt himself tense, 'you have outdone yourself.'

Nott was stunned. He never imagined he would receive such high praise. Working his lips, he attempted to speak, but Fisk wasn't finished.

'I must confess that in recent weeks I considered the mayoral office lost to me. As a result, I made a rather embarrassing choice to enact certain contingences regarding the allocation of campaign resources. A choice I will need to undo if possible.'

A flutter of confusion passed over Nott's face before he smiled vacantly. He didn't have the slightest clue what contingences Fisk could be referring to and he preferred it that way.

'Ye-Yes. Well. The party staffers and the media are waiting for your victory speech. Shall we expect you in the next, say, ten minutes?'

'Yes. I will be down shortly.'

'Very good then sir. I'll go prepare the room.'

Nott turned and exited. As he walked towards the lobby he felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

Fisk watched Nott retreat from his office. Once he had left and the door had closed behind him, Fisk picked up his oversized phone and pressed a number. After the first ring, a man answered.

'Sir?'

'What's your status?' Fisk asked.

'We're at location and on standby. Ready to proceed at your order.' came the brisk reply.

'Cancel the operation.'

Without waiting for a response, Fisk hung up his phone and turned his mind over to more pressing matters. Navigating around his desk and opening the door to his private closet, he considered his wardrobe. As he thumbed through his suit jackets, he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. In the wake of Shocker's arrest and exile he had entertained the fantasy of retiring from public life and returning to the underworld to reign as he had years ago. But alas, he had diversified; expanded. One does not progress in life by looking backward after all.

Selecting a white blazer, he exited his cavernous closet and went to his mirror. Putting the jacket on, he straightened his cuffs and judged his appearance with as critical an eye as he could muster. He was no fashion aficionado, but he had often been complemented on his taste.

Satisfied, he left his office. As he exited, his secretary dutifully fell in step behind him and mutely accompanied him to the elevator. Entering, the pair continued on in silence as they rode the elevator to the lobby. While they descended, he considered his position. What more could he want? City hall was his. The streets were his. Musutafu was his. If he were to abdicate, all he would be doing is trading one office for another. And yet, he felt strangely unfulfilled.

Arriving at the lobby, he walked out to the conference hall where the press and his loyal staff had gathered. Upon spotting him, the journalists swarmed him with pictures and shouts for his attention. Giving them a broad smile and a wave, he continued on to the stage where Nott was already introducing him.

While Nott spoke, he looked at his campaign manager thoughtfully. Nott had first entered his employ shortly after he was elected mayor twelve years ago. At the time he had been intrigued by Nott's intuitive understanding of the political climate of Musutafu and willingness to go to any lengths to achieve victory. However, as he learned over the years, Nott was also a man of many vices. Although not unforgivable in and of itself, it had been people like Nott who had tarnished his reputation and created this situation in the first place.

Just the thought of the scandals made his blood boil. It had been humiliating, seeing his name tied to such degeneracy, slandered in the media like some common corrupt bureaucrat. He was more than just a politician. More than just some criminal. More even than what his own men believed him to be. For a visionary like him to even be implicated, if only by association, was unconscionable.

He had decided. He would have Nott killed after all. Originally, he had arranged to have Nott's wife and son murdered as well, but in light of Nott's efforts in winning him the election, he decided to grant him that mercy at least.

Yes, the city was his and always would be. There were contenders no doubt. Shocker was sure to be return - this time with the rest of the Sinister Six - to recapture the Trigger market and reassert their dominance, but he was ready for them. Working the drug trade from the production side, Overhaul and his Eight Precept's of Death might attempt to gather enough power to rebuild the Yakuza, but they had nothing to offer beyond their organization's supposedly vaunted history. The last gasp of the old world, they would disappear soon. The mysterious "League of Villains" was skulking around, but they seemed uninterested in actual power and had obsessed themselves with causing general mayhem and destruction. So long as that was all they did, then he was content to let them continue. The heroes would deal with them. Everything was under control.

'…and now, the man of the hour himself! Our re-elected mayor; Wilson Fisk!' finished Nott, bringing his hands together.

The room joined him in applause and Fisk stepped forward. Smiling and waving, he went to the podium and delivered his speech.

Izuku slowly made his way through the bustling development studio and over to his workstation. The day was almost over. Soon he would be back at home, and he could have a nice long rest. School had been far more exhausting than he had thought it would be. Thankfully he hadn't had foundational heroic studies or he probably wouldn't have made it.

'Hey, Izuku! Heads up!'

He ducked just in time to dodge the spear that Kiska was removing from her suit. Proceeding past her and the rest of his classmates, he leaned up against his workbench and caught his breath.

I shouldn't try building anything today, I'll just end up hurting myself. I guess I can review the code for my suit's computer. That should be nice and-

'Midoriya!' Power Loader barked and he flinched, 'Principal Nezu wants to see you. Go to his office.'

'OoooOOOOOoo…'

He felt his spider-sense thrum. Stiff legged, he walked past his smirking classmates while trying his best to ignore their teasing comments.

'Uh, oh! Someone's in trouble.'

'Better pack your bags Midoriya!'

'I call dibs on Izuku's suit!'

Sweating bullets, he exited the development studio and went to the administration wing of the school. Along the way he tried to think about what he might be in trouble for, but it was such a long list that he didn't know where to begin.

After suffering his way up the stairs, he entered the reception area before Principal Nezu's office. To his surprise Bakugo was sitting there. Bakugo's eyes immediately snapped over and he scowled fiercely.

'Deku!' Bakugo snarled, 'Why did I get called to the office!? What did you say?'

'K- Kacchan! Why're you here?' he stammered, taking a half step back in alarm.

'Cut the bullshit, Deku. I got called here! What did you say? What did you do?!'

'N-n-nothing! Honest! I was called here too!'

Bakugo stared into his eyes for a moment before snorting. Slumping back in his chair, Bakugo kicked out his legs and faced Nezu's closed office door. Izuku slowly made his way over to the chairs and joined him. After about a minute of tense waiting, the door to the office opened revealing Mr. Nezu himself. Izuku was relieved to see him smiling.

'Mr. Midoriya and Mr. Bakugo!' Principal Nezu said, clapping his paws together, 'I'm sorry to pull you from your classes, but I have a visitor for the two of you. Come in, come in…'

He and Bakugo glanced at each other curiously before following their diminutive principal into his office. Walking in, they stopped. Seated on one of the chairs in front of Nezu's desk was Principal Sasaina!

'Ah! Boys.' she said, taking off her sunglasses and giving them both a toothy smile, 'You do remember me, don't you? Just kidding. Of course, you do. How could you forget? Well come on then, don't be shy.'

She gestured to the chairs beside hers. He and Bakugo shared another look before shuffling over and sitting on either side of her. Trotting around his desk, Nezu disappeared from view for a moment before suddenly popping up in his chair. Clasping his paws in front of him, he leaned in.

'So! I was just having a chat with your old principal boys, and she tells me that she's in the running for educator of the year!'

Izuku carefully kept his confusion from his face and tried to smile.

'O-Okay, that's great. Yeah. Congratulations.' Izuku said and Bakugo murmured indistinctly.

'Yes.' Sasaina said, crossing her legs and smiling smugly, 'Of course, not that I mean to brag, but how could they not? What with me rearing the two stars of the Sports Festival, I would say that it was about time my accomplishments were recognized. Don't you agree boys?'

'What are you talking about?' Bakugo said, frowning, 'You didn't do anythi-'

'Oh, you! Such a kidder Bakugo is!' Sasaina interrupted quickly, 'Such a practical joker. Really, the stories I could tell you, Mr. Nezu. When Bakugo was at Aldera he was a laugh riot. Always pulling pranks on his classmates.'

'Wha-'

'But he always knew when to draw the line.' Sasaina added, biting the tip of her glasses, 'For all his bluster, he's actually a very kind-hearted person. You know, in my experience most children with such a powerful – and dangerous – quirk like Bakugo develop a superiority complex. They become cruel and controlling, oftentimes becoming bullies. It can be quite the problem.'

'Oh, I can imagine.' Nezu said, taking a sip of tea.

'Yes. But thankfully I never had a problem with Bakugo.' Sasaina said smiling over at him, 'You can check his records. Clean as a whistle.'

Izuku couldn't help but glance over at Bakugo. His face was blank, but his eyes were wide and his pupils small. He hadn't seen him that angry in a long time.

'And a good thing too! Nowadays, well, with the hero programs being so competitive I hear its impossible to get admitted unless your record is squeaky clean.'

Nezu's whiskers twitched, 'Very true. with crime on the rise we can only afford to have the best of the best as heroes. A single bad apple spoils the bunch or so they say.'

'Well. As I said, I never had a problem with Bakugo. Me and him would frequently talk about society and the responsibility we have as citizens. Didn't we Katsuki?'

'Yes.' Bakugo said in a hoarse tone just above a whisper, 'We did.'

Izuku did his best to keep his eyes carefully facing forward. He was afraid that if he looked over, the sight of his face would cause Bakugo to erupt.

'And then there's Izuku.' Sasaina said putting a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him, 'The pride and joy of Aldera. The hours I spent tutoring him! Did you know that our gym instructor was nearly worked to an early retirement off of Izuku alone?' Sasaina let out a tinkling laugh and Nezu smiled warmly, 'Yes. But we could all see the potential in him and we kept at it! Polishing and polishing until our little quirkless misfit became a true diamond in the rough. Imagine, a quirkless person coming in second in the Sports Festival! We're just so proud of you Izuku!'

'Th-Thanks.' Izuku said smiling at her uncertainly, 'I really couldn't have done it without you.'

'Mmm, I know. You must never forget the people who got you where you are so that in the future you can help others achieve similar greatness. Don't you agree, Izuku?' Sasaina said, tightening her grip on his shoulder.

'Uh, yeah! Yeah, definitely! I mean, how could I not acknowledge you and-' Izuku swallowed, '-Mr. Ijime. Without you guys, I'd probably be a high school dropout or a drug addict or something.'

'Very inspiring.' Nezu said happily, taking another loud sip of tea, 'Well, back to the task at hand. What brings you to UA?'

'Oh, I was just hoping to enlist Bakugo and Midoriya's aid in my bid to secure educator of the year. Personally, I'm not one to seek out recognition, but the winner does receive a substantial increase in funding for their school.'

'And a tidy salary boost as well!' chirped Nezu gleefully and Sasaina laughed again.

'True, true. But that's besides the point. I believe that every child could be a Bakugo or Midoriya just waiting to be discovered. With the extra funding, who knows how many children might uncover their inner hero?'

'Well that's settled then. What do you need? I'm sure Misters Bakugo and Izuku are willing to help you however they're able.' Nezu said earnestly.

'Oh, I don't need much. Just a short essay from each of them describing their experience at Aldera, how they were trained, the values they learned, that sort of thing.'

'H-How long?' Bakugo asked through gritted teeth.

'Mmm, forty pages or so. Of course, it can be longer if you feel that is insufficient.'

'And when is this due?' Izuku asked in a hollow voice.

'Well the awards deadline is fast approaching. I would say a week at the latest.'

Bakugo opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, he shoved his own fist into it. Coughing, he doubled over.

'Uh, sure. We can…do…that.' Izuku said, sighing. Sasaina grinned and abruptly stood.

'Excellent. I look forward to collecting your papers on Friday. Good luck with your midterm's boys, I heard that at UA they're a real doozy.'

'Yes, they sure are!' Nezu said chuckling, 'Thank you for the visit!'

With a final farewell to both of them Sasaina sashayed out of Nezu's office. Izuku could only sit there, stunned.

'Well, best be back to class boys.' Nezu said as he leaned back in his chair, 'Midterms are fast approaching and I wasn't exaggerating, they really are a doozy.'

Izuku and Bakugo took their cue and stood. Exiting, Izuku softly closed the doors behind them. Bakugo managed to keep his composure until they reached the hall. Taking a deep breath, he unleashed a long, unbroken chain of curses, threats, and insults that stretched for over a minute. Once he was finished, Izuku could only nod.

'Yeah, you're telling me.' Izuku said resignedly, 'But hey,' he said, shooting Backugo a wry grin, 'at least its for a good cause.'

Bakugo slowly turned to him, eyes shining with fury.

'J-just kidding.' Izuku said stepping back, palms raised in surrender, 'It was a joke, Kacchan. Just a joke!'

Growling in rage, Bakugo charged and Izuku took off running back to the development studio, his stomach aching with every step. As he fled for his life, he couldn't help but think about his time at UA. Maybe it wasn't too late to become a dropout drug addict?

Chapter 37: Epilogue

In the loose foothills beneath the Akaishi Mountains far from Musutafu, a lone man made his way up the middle of a dusty gravel road. Beneath the glare of the hot sun, his pale skin had begun to burn and he was sweating profusely. Flies buzzed around him incessantly, attracted to his bloody, dirt covered clothes and his shoeless feet were bruised and blistered. From the look of him, he seemed like an especially down on his luck vagrant.

However, despite his haggard appearance there was a bounce to his step. Whistling merrily, he swung his arms out and marched forward. Every few steps he would stop and skip, kicking a loose stone in front of him. He didn't know where he was going or what might lie ahead. The possibilities were endless and life had never been better.

Coming to the top of a small hill, the valley suddenly opened up around him. Brushing a lock of red hair from his face, his bright blue eyes lit up at what he saw. Perhaps a kilometre away, there was a small, brightly painted farmhouse. A red pickup truck was parked in front of the porch and he could make out the distant shapes of children moving around the backyard. Craning his neck skyward, he stretched, hands reaching towards the clouds.

Sighing contentedly, he dropped his arms back to his sides and resumed his jaunty pace.

Hours later the hero pursuit team assigned to the tracking and apprehension of Cletus Kasady would stumble upon the farm. The grisly scene of carnage would later be described as the most shocking mass murder that Japan had seen in decades. This senseless act of wanton barbarity would galvanize the public who demanded action. In response, professional heroes from across the country would widen their search to a Japan wide manhunt, but Kasady would remain at large. Unbeknownst to everyone, perhaps even including Kasady himself, he was slowly working his way around back to Musutafu. Why none could say. But there was an energy to Musutafu. A pulse like a heartbeat that seemed to attract the exceptional. And in a society where heroes were common, the exceptional were terrifying indeed.

The End

Well that's another story finished. Thanks for reading and as always, I'm sure this story is filled with bad grammar, structure, and plot holes. Please, reduce my self esteem and leave a scathing review. They're fun to write, and I like reading them.

Anyway, here are some fun facts and random observations!

-Originally this story was supposed to be 150,000 words. Yeah…

-While I was writing this, I had the word "surreptitiously" typed up beneath my document for almost the entire length of the story. I really wanted to work it into a sentence somewhere but the opportunity never presented itself. That's probably for the best, "surreptitiously" is a pretty pretentious word.

-Almost all of the Japanese names in this story are just google translated words. "Tamanegi" for example is a type of onion. Dr. Akatani is different though. During my research of the My Hero Academia world I found out that "Mikumo Akatani" was originally supposed to be the name of the protagonist until it was changed to Izuku Midoriya.

-If you've read my previous story then you have my sympathies, but also you've probably picked up on a lot of similarities between that story and this one. Both feature a sort of renegade hero who's working in secret for the greater good, not trusting the authorities with his burden etc., etc.. All I can say is, I love characters like that. I read Gordon Korman books a lot when I was younger and his style of rascally protagonist really stuck with me.

-I am fully aware that the characterization of Izuku's mom, Inko Midoriya, is weak. I wanted her to be an Aunt May type character but this story was getting bogged down with characters as it was. Plus, in the comics Aunt May is often just a plot device to get Peter to a location or is someone for him to rescue and I didn't want to bore everyone with a damsel in distress.

-I wish I could have found a way to fit more All Might in this story, but a lot of his and Izuku's interactions were ultimately inconsequential to the story I was telling and got cut.

-Peter Parker and Izuku Midoriya are very different personality wise. Izuku is extremely meek to the point of a fault in his normal life, yet becomes bold when he needs to be. As far as I can tell, he has always been this way. Compare that to Peter who upon getting his powers used them to shoplift and beat up his bullies and you can see how different the two are. A big problem with this story is that my Spider-Man never got his wake up call moment to be a hero. There was no Uncle Ben. I tried to make Izuku's fight with Bakugo and how he almost killed him his moment, but I don't know. It feels pretty weak to me.

-Trying to put a day by day timeline to the events of the My Hero Academia show was pretty interesting. To say that things are fast paced is an understatement. Did you know that within their first week class 1-A was doing hostage rescue exercises? Sheesh, my first month of high school was spent trying to relearn algebra.

-Writing this story was torturous! I'm not a giant fan of My Hero Academia (it's good, just not for me) but I used to be one of Spider-Man and in the end, I don't feel as though I did either universe justice. As it happens, writing a crossover story on two properties whose primary means of plot progression is visual storytelling is hard. Who knew?

-Many a time during this story I wanted to just scrap everything and start over. Not just because I found out that there were several other Spider-Man/My Hero Academia crossover stories already, but I also started getting bored. "Wouldn't it be cool if instead of getting bit by a spider, Izuku found the Crimson Gem of Cyttorak?" or "Hey, green hair seems to run in the Midoriya family. Izuku's mom has telekinesis. Tatsumaki from One Punch Man also has telekinesis and green hair. Maybe I should make a One Punch Man/My Hero Academia crossover!" In the end, I decided to stick with it because I hate leaving stuff unfinished. It's a good thing too, because looking back on it those stories would have quickly run into an even worse problem. Namely having a way too powerful protagonist. Juggernaut Izuku would just kill everybody and Mob Izuku would be invincible too. I'm not a good enough writer to make an overwhelmingly powerful protagonist interesting.

-When it comes to fanfiction, I hate OCs and I'm sure you do too (unless they're hilariously bad, then I love them). Unfortunately, I had to make quite a few OCs in this story just to make things work. Again, I'm sure a better writer could have found a way, but I needed to finish up this nonsense and I couldn't take the time to reformat everything. It's lazy, I know. Sorry about that.

-I've always wished that Doppelganger got more love in the Spider-Man mythos, but Venom (and to a lesser degree Carnage) is always stealing the show. It's a shame. He's much more of a man/spider hybrid than Peter Parker that's for sure.

-I spent more time making the terrible thumbnail for this story than I did writing the epilogue. Now that's a true mark of quality.

-As usual I set things up for a sequel, but I don't know if I have it in me to slog out another one of these. The problem with comic books is they never end. I think my next story will be about something silly and stupid, like what if the scum from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia played Jumanji or the Trailer Park Boys go to Jurassic Park or something. Alternatively, I'd love to write a Mass Effect/Bas-Lag crossover but China Miéville's writing style is hard for me to emulate (plus no one would read the damn thing).

-I only post stories that are complete and edited. I do not write stories chapter to chapter, updating as I go. If I did, I'd go crazy trying to edit it. Consequentially, I don't upload much so you might not hear from me for a while only for a new story to show up out of the blue.

-Statistically speaking, this story had about 400 readers (if my previous story is anything to go by). Of that 400 people, I assume around 75-85% listened to their better judgement and quit reading to do something productive with their spare time. By my estimate, 100 to 160 of you actually read the whole thing. You could have spent your time procrastinating in many ways but you decided to waste it reading my trash. Sincerely, thank you, and may God have mercy on your soul.