Chapter 1 - It's time

Children played in the park, their laughter filling the air. Among them, a young boy with dark hair stood with his hands on his hips, grinning arrogantly. 

"I'll rule the world one day!" he declared, his voice filled with childish confidence. 

"Tch, as if!" scoffed a spiky-haired blonde girl, crossing her arms. 

"I'm gonna be the best hero ever, just you watch!" 

A messy-haired green-eyed girl giggled beside her. 

"Me too! We'll be heroes together, Katsumi!" 

Soren Oda smirked. 

"Fine, but don't come crying when I'm the one in charge." 

The three of them continued playing, their games innocent—until the air shifted. The laughter was replaced by the sound of hurried footsteps. Shadows loomed over them. 

"Oi, that's them," a gruff voice muttered. 

A group of men approached, their faces obscured by masks, their eyes filled with cruel intent. 

"The hell do you want?" Katsumi snapped, stepping in front of Izumi protectively. 

The tallest man chuckled. 

"Just the brats. Hand 'em over, and we won't make this ugly." 

Fear shot through Soren's spine. Villains? Here? 

Izumi whimpered, gripping Katsumi's arm. 

Katsumi snarled. 

"Like hell we will!" She rushed forward, trying to throw a punch—only for the man to backhand her across the face with a sickening crack. She crumpled to the ground, groaning, blood leaking from her nose. 

"Katsumi!" Izumi screamed. 

Soren's body moved before he could think. Rage erupted in his chest, a primal, overwhelming fury. His feet lifted off the ground. 

The villains barely had time to react before Soren shot forward like a bullet. 

His fist connected with the nearest man's jaw. A sickening crunch echoed as the man's head snapped back, his neck bending at an unnatural angle before he collapsed, twitching violently. Blood spurted from his mouth, painting the pavement. 

"Wha—" Another thug barely raised his arms before Soren grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. 

The man gagged, his eyes bulging. Soren's small fingers crushed flesh and bone like paper. Blood vessels burst, darkening the villain's skin as he clawed desperately at Soren's arm. 

"L-Let… go—" 

With a snarl, Soren ripped out his throat. 

The man gurgled, staggering backward, hands shaking as crimson gushed from the gaping wound. He collapsed, spasming before going still. 

The remaining villains stood frozen, horror etched on their faces. 

"The hell is this kid?!" 

Soren's breathing was ragged, his fists clenched. His vision blurred with red. His body felt light, powerful, unstoppable. 

And then his eyes burned. 

A villain tried to run. Too late. 

Twin beams of molten red light shot from Soren's eyes, searing through flesh and bone. The fleeing man screamed as his body split apart, charred meat and bubbling fat dripping onto the pavement. 

The last villain stood frozen in place, his pants darkening as he trembled. 

Soren turned to him, his glowing eyes casting eerie shadows. 

"W-Wait—!" 

Soren didn't. 

The beam struck the villain's skull, melting through his face. His screams were cut short as his head exploded, fragments of bone and brain matter splattering across the ground. 

Soren swayed. His vision darkened. His body gave out. 

The last thing he heard was Izumi's sobbing voice calling his name before everything went black.

Soren's eyes fluttered open, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling his nose. White ceiling tiles blurred in and out of focus as the steady beep of a heart monitor echoed in his ears. He blinked slowly, his body feeling strangely heavy, yet at the same time, something deep inside him thrummed with energy. 

Where was he? What happened? 

Then, like a floodgate bursting open, memories crashed into him. 

Not just of what happened in the park—the villains, the screams, the burning flesh—but something far deeper, far older. 

His past life. 

Soren's breath hitched as images flashed through his mind. Late nights hunched over a glowing screen, flipping through manga, devouring light novels, watching anime and superhero cartoons. He remembered the excitement of reading about overpowered protagonists, the thrill of seeing unstoppable characters lay waste to their enemies. He had been an otaku. A fan of power fantasies. 

And now, somehow, he was living in one. 

His fingers clenched the hospital sheets as the weight of realization settled over him. 

'I was reborn. Not just in another world… but in My Hero Academia.' 

His eyes widened. That meant heroes were real. Villains were real. Quirks were real. 

And he… he wasn't normal. 

The memories of the fight resurfaced, vivid and sharp. The way he floated, the way his punch shattered bone, the way his hands crushed flesh and throats like paper. 

The smell of blood. The heat of his laser vision. The screams. 

His heartbeat remained steady. 

Soren stared at the ceiling, his mind eerily calm. 

Soren lay still, his mind racing. 

'I killed them.' 

The words echoed in his head, but there was no guilt. No horror. No regret. 

He could still see it—the way his fist shattered bone, the way his fingers sank into a man's throat, crushing it with effortless strength. The way his laser vision cut through flesh like butter, the sizzling, bubbling stench of burning meat filling the air. 

The screams. The silence that followed. 

And yet… nothing inside him felt disturbed. 

If anything, it felt right. 

He had been in danger. Izumi and Katsumi had been in danger. Those men had tried to take them. He had simply dealt with them. 

Wasn't that what strength was for? 

His fingers curled against the hospital sheets. 

'I'm not normal.' 

He had felt it in that moment. The surge of raw power. His body moving faster, hitting harder, shrugging off fear and hesitation. 

That wasn't just some Quirk. 

It was instinct. 

He could still remember the last villain's expression. The way his lips trembled, the way his body froze in pure, paralyzing fear. 

Soren exhaled slowly, feeling something stir deep within him. 

Fear. 

They had feared him. 

And something inside him liked it. 

A slow smirk tugged at his lips before he let out a soft breath, forcing his face into a neutral expression. 

For now, he would play along. He was just a kid who awakened his Quirk. Just a normal boy. 

But deep down, he knew the truth. 

He wasn't just some Quirk user. 

He was something more.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by muffled voices growing closer. The door burst open, and before Soren could fully process what was happening, a woman rushed to his side, her face pale with worry. 

"Soren! Oh, my baby, you're awake!" His mother, Hana Oda, all but threw herself onto the bed, cupping his face with trembling hands. Her brown eyes were glossy with unshed tears as she scanned him for any signs of injury. "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain? Do you need the nurse?" 

Soren blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the overwhelming concern in her voice. "…I feel fine, Mom." He hesitated, then added, "Just… a little tired." 

A deep, steady voice cut through the moment. 

"Hana, let the boy breathe." 

Soren turned his gaze to the man standing near the doorway. His father, Renji Oda. 

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a powerful frame that exuded strength even in the way he stood. His black hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp features gave him an almost regal air. Unlike his mother, who was all panic and affection, his father remained composed—yet there was something in his eyes. Relief, yes… but also expectation. 

Hana sniffled but reluctantly pulled back, dabbing at her eyes. 

"I was so scared," she whispered, her voice shaking. 

"They said you—" Her words caught in her throat as she squeezed his hand. 

Soren glanced back at his father. The man took a slow step forward, arms crossed over his chest. 

"You awakened your Quirk." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A fact. 

Soren met his father's gaze, his mind already working. Quirk. Right. That's what they think this is. He knew the truth, but there was no need to correct them. Not yet. 

"…Yeah." He nodded. 

Renji studied him for a long moment before nodding, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"Impressive." 

Soren's fingers curled slightly against the hospital sheets. 

His father was a Pro Hero—The Prime. Known for his overwhelming strength and ability to fly, he was considered a powerhouse, though not among the very top heroes. Still, compared to most, he was an unstoppable force. 

And now, Soren had shown far more than simple super strength or flight. 

"I expected you to be strong, but what you did…" Renji's eyes gleamed with something unreadable. 

"Laser vision? Interesting." 

Hana gasped softly, her grip tightening on Soren's hand. 

"Laser vision?" Her face paled even more. 

"Oh, Soren…" 

Soren could see it—her fear. Not of him, but for him. She was worried. His father, though? His father looked… intrigued. 

Soren tilted his head. 

"Are you… mad?" 

Hana shook her head furiously. 

"Of course not, sweetie! It's just—your Quirk is really strong, and after what happened—" She swallowed hard.

"You… you killed those men, Soren." 

There it was. The thing everyone had been too afraid to say outright. 

Soren remained quiet for a moment, searching for the right response. Should he fake remorse? Should he act like a scared child? 

No. That wasn't him. 

He met his mother's gaze and spoke calmly. 

"They were trying to take Izumi and Katsumi. They hurt them. I stopped them." 

Simple. Cold. Factual. 

Hana flinched slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. 

"But, Soren—" 

"They were villains," Renji interrupted, his voice firm. He stepped closer, staring down at Soren with an unreadable expression. 

"You did what heroes do." 

Hana whipped her head toward him.

"Renji—!" 

He held up a hand, silencing her. His gaze never wavered from Soren.

"Tell me, son… how did it feel?" 

Soren's fingers twitched slightly. He knew what his father was asking. 

It wasn't Did you feel bad? or Are you okay? 

It was How did it feel to kill? 

For a moment, Soren debated his answer. He could lie, pretend he was shaken, say what his mother wanted to hear. But looking at his father, he knew that wouldn't work. 

So he gave the truth. 

"I felt strong." 

Renji's smirk widened ever so slightly. 

"Good."