MHA: Ubiytsa Bogov - Slayer of Gods

Aleksandr's consciousness drifted between darkness and muffled sounds. His head throbbed, his limbs felt like lead, and the taste of smoke and blood lingered in his mouth.

Then-

"GERVASII!!!"

Yulia's panicked scream snapped him awake. His body jerked as he gasped for air, his senses slamming back into him all at once. The air was thick with dust and ash, and the sky above him was a sickly, clouded gray. Ruined concrete structures jutted out in jagged angles, remnants of what was once the facility.

His vision swam, but he forced himself up, his muscles screaming in protest. That's when he saw it-

Gervasii, lying motionless on the ground, his usually sharp, untouchable figure now covered in blood. Large chunks of debris had punctured his body, metal rods and shattered glass protruding from his back and side. His breaths were shallow, his skin far too pale.

Yulia was already crouched beside him, pressing down on his worst wound, her hands shaking but firm.

Aleksandr rushed to help, ignoring his own pain as he kneeled beside them. His mind sharpened, instincts taking over. He pressed his hands against Gervasii's side, applying pressure to slow the bleeding.

"What the hell happened?!" Aleksandr demanded, his voice hoarse.

Yulia's lips trembled. "I-I don't know! One second, we were in the facility, and then-then there was this blinding light! I barely saw anything, and before I could react-he stepped in front of us and grabbed us!" Her breathing was uneven, her usual sharp confidence cracked with fear.

Aleksandr froze, realization settling in.

"He teleported us here," he murmured, his eyes darting to their surroundings. It was impossible.

Gervasii coughed, his voice weak but laced with a dry chuckle. "No shit..."

Aleksandr and Yulia immediately turned back to him.

Gervasii forced a smirk despite his pain. "Guess my quirk pulled a surprise on us...But too bad that son of the bitch explosion still got me huh?..." He winced, spitting out blood.

"Shut up, idiot. Don't talk." Yulia pressed harder on his wound, her voice wavering.

But Aleksandr wasn't letting this go. His mind raced.

Gervasii's quirk had always been limited to line-of-sight teleportation. Even after three years of improvement, the furthest he could go was still within what he could physically see, and he could only bring non-living objects with him. Living things had always been impossible.

Yet, here they were.

He narrowed his eyes. This wasn't just a teleport. This was something else.

"You shouldn't have been able to bring us with you," Aleksandr said carefully. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it-like he was solving a puzzle none of them had the answer to.

Gervasii let out a slow breath, eyes barely open. "Yeah... Don't know how... just happened. Maybe 'cause I was desperate." He huffed a weak laugh. "Or maybe... I'm just that good."

Yulia shot him a glare, but it was watery, full of emotions she wouldn't voice. "Don't joke right now, you jackass."

Gervasii gave her a weak grin. "Sorry... didn't get to... Ivan... Anya..."

Silence.

Aleksandr and Yulia exchanged looks, their stomachs twisting.

They had no idea if Ivan and Anya had made it out.

Yulia gritted her teeth, her hands pressing harder to keep Gervasii's blood inside his body. "Stop talking. Just hold on. We're gonna figure this out."

Aleksandr, still staring at Gervasii, was deep in thought.

A quirk mutation in a life-or-death moment?

It was rare, but not impossible. If Gervasii's teleportation evolved-what were the new rules?

His eyes darkened. But then he moved that thought to a side.

What's important now was keeping Gervasii alive.

The world was still spinning as Aleksandr forced himself to move, his limbs heavy and his mind clouded with exhaustion. The scent of burnt concrete and scorched metal filled his lungs, but it was the sound that snapped him back to reality—Yulia's scream.

"Aleksandr! Get these damn steel rods out of him! Now!"

Her voice was raw, frantic, almost unrecognizable. She was kneeling beside Gervasii, hands pressing against his wounds, desperate to stop the bleeding. The steel rods puncturing his body glinted under the faint light, their presence an ugly reminder of just how bad things were.

Aleksandr's breath caught, but his mind overrode the instinct to panic. If he did as Yulia asked, if he pulled the rods out now—Gervasii would bleed out in seconds.

His voice was steady, but grim. "If I do that, he will only bleed out more."

Aleksandr gritted his teeth, forcing his aching body to move. His magnetism flared weakly as he brushed his shirt clean of metallic scraps and dust. He tore off a piece of fabric, pressing it to one of Gervasii's wounds, but the blood kept seeping through, dark and unrelenting.

Too much blood. Too fast.

Gervasii suddenly stirred, his voice barely above a whisper. "…Hey, Aleksandr."

Aleksandr's hands froze for a fraction of a second.

"Remember…..the first time we met… our first combat test…?", Gervasii rasped, his lips twitching into the ghost of a smirk.

Aleksandr inhaled sharply. "…I do."

"You saved my ass back then." Gervasii let out a weak chuckle, his breath hitching in pain. "Didn't like it…*Cough* ….. Never liked being in someone's debt….Welp, we are even now."

Aleksandr's jaw tightened.

Gervasii exhaled softly, forcing himself to look at them. "…You two….You both have to live."

Then, his gaze flickered to Yulia, and his weak smirk returned.

"Especially you…volcano head." He coughed, but his next words came with a faint breath of amusement. "So… I can haunt ….your insufferable face for the rest of your life."

Yulia's breath hitched. Her hands trembled where she held him, pressing desperately against his wounds, as if sheer force of will could keep him from slipping away. "You—idiot—just hold on—"

Gervasii exhaled one last time.

His body went still.

The light in his icy blue eyes faded.

Yulia's entire body jerked as if she had been struck. Then, everything inside her snapped.

"NO!!"

The scream that tore from her throat was raw, unbearable—a sound of agony so deep it made Aleksandr's chest tighten. Yulia clutched at Gervasii's unmoving form, shaking him, refusing to accept what had just happened.

But it was over.

Gervasii was gone.

Aleksandr watched, his own breath slow and measured, but his hands wouldn't stop trembling.

Yulia cried out loud in vain.

The five of them had survived everything together. The facility. The tests. The battles. The years of torment.

And yet, after all of it—

They were not getting out of this together.

The suffocating weight of grief lingered in Aleksandr's chest as he knelt over Gervasii's lifeless body. But he forced himself to move. They couldn't stay here. If they did, Gervasii's sacrifice would mean nothing.

He took in his surroundings, scanning the dimly lit ruins. The collapsed concrete, the jagged steel beams, the faint dampness in the air—this place… it was familiar.

A memory not his own.

A fragmented image buried in his mind, something he had extracted from Gervasii's thoughts long ago—an underground passage, separate from the facility's main structure.

Aleksandr's heart pounded as he pieced it together. Gervasii had been here before.

"This tunnel—he must have found it when he first lost control of his teleportation," Aleksandr muttered, more to himself than to Yulia.

Yulia, still kneeling beside Gervasii, barely registered his words. Her body trembled, fingers curled into fists against the cold floor.

"Yulia," Aleksandr said, his voice firm but not unkind. "We need to move."

She didn't respond.

Aleksandr swallowed down the frustration threatening to bubble up. He knew how much this hurt. But they couldn't afford to stop.

"Gervasii got us here because he believed we could survive," he pressed. "So we will. And then we will find Ivan and Anya as well."

Yulia's shoulders rose and fell with deep, shaky breaths. Then, finally, she exhaled sharply, wiping her tears roughly against her sleeve.

As they pushed forward through the tunnel, Aleksandr's foot hit something hard beneath the rubble. He glanced down, his eyes narrowing as he picked up a broken anti-telepathy helmet belonging to those Orlov clones.

Aleksandr crouched, inspecting it. His fingers twitched as he instinctively tried to lift it using his magnetism—but nothing happened.

Not magnetic.

A flicker of intrigue passed through him. If it wasn't magnetic, then how was Orlov mass-producing them?

Deciding not to waste time, he instead used his telekinesis to lift the helmet and took it with him.

Minutes passed as they hurried forward, the air becoming heavier with the scent of damp earth. Aleksandr noticed the water dripping faster from the cracks above them.

Then, a deep, sickening crack.

The walls groaned, and a violent tremor shook the tunnel. Aleksandr's eyes widened as he heard it—the distant roar of rushing water.

His head snapped toward Yulia, his voice sharp. "The lake— it's breaking into the tunnel. We have to move!"

They sprinted forward, but the staircase to the exit had crumbled. The door loomed high above them, just out of reach.

Aleksandr cursed out loud: "Blyat! I can't use magnetism, I might destabilize this tunnel further. The structure is too fragile—one wrong move and the entire thing would collapse."

Behind them, a massive surge of water rushed in.

Not enough time.

Aleksandr clenched his fists, mind racing for a solution—but before he could act, Yulia suddenly moved.

She extended her razor-sharp hair and grabbed the helmet out of his hands.

Aleksandr's breath hitched. "What are you doing?!"

Without answering, Yulia put the helmet onto his head.

Aleksandr froze.

The realization hit him instantly. She was blocking his telepathy.

His heart lurched. No.

"Yulia, STOP!"

Ignoring him, she turned and unleashed the last of her magma, sealing off both sides of the tunnel. The molten rock sizzled as it met the encroaching water, creating a temporary molten barrier.

Then, before Aleksandr could react, her hair wrapped around him tightly.

"Don't do this!"

The strands coiled tightly, lifting him from the ground. Aleksandr struggled, but her grip was unrelenting.

With a final, forceful motion, she launched him toward the exit.

The world tilted as Aleksandr was thrown upward, slamming into the exit door with a harsh thud.

Below, Yulia's magma began to flicker out.

Her body wavered, exhausted, but she still managed to look up at him—her face fierce, determined.

But there was something else in her eyes.

Something he had never seen before.

A farewell.

And then, her lips curled into a faint, wavering smirk, but her voice cracked—just a little.

"No cheesy last words from me, Aleksandr…"

Her voice broke.

A tear slid down her cheek.

"...You better get out of here alive."

And then—

The water crashed into her.

Aleksandr screamed.

"YULIA!"

The force of the flood was relentless. Unforgiving. It consumed her , her body disappearing beneath the dark, roaring surge.

The water surged forward, relentless and unyielding. Aleksandr barely had time to react before it slammed against the walls, flooding the tunnel with terrifying speed.

His heart hammered in his chest.

No time. No options.

His hands shook as he reached for the exit door. With a desperate heave, he forced it shut, the heavy metal slamming into place with a resounding clang.

The sound echoed, final.

But it wouldn't hold for long.

The pressure behind the door grew, the metal groaning under the force of the rising flood. The entire tunnel shuddered as cracks spread across the walls.

It was going to burst.

Aleksandr turned and ran.

His muscles burned, exhaustion clawing at his limbs, but he pushed forward. Every breath came ragged, every step unsteady, but he didn't stop.

The surface. He had to reach the surface.

The tunnel sloped upward, the cold night air just barely within reach. He could hear the deep, guttural roar of the water behind him, threatening to consume everything.

Then—

A final, deafening crash.

The flood broke through.

Aleksandr lunged forward, bursting out onto the open land as the entrance behind him collapsed in a torrent of water and debris.

Fresh air. Cold. Unforgiving.

But he had no time to rest.

He staggered forward, chest heaving, scanning the darkened landscape with wide, frantic eyes.

The facility.

Where was it?

He turned, searching—until his gaze landed on the distant horizon.

And what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

A fire.

Not just any fire.

A colossal inferno.

The entire facility—was engulfed in flames.

No.

The explosion had swallowed the entire complex, thick black smoke choking the sky. He could see helicopters, silhouettes against the fire's glow, moving away—retreating.

His stomach twisted as his sharp eyes caught the logo painted on the side of the aircraft:

"WHA"—World Heroes Association.

They were leaving.

Aleksandr's hands curled into tight fists as the realization sank in.

They were abandoning the facility.

No way to tell who they saved.

How many made it out.

How many they lost.

A sharp ache settled in his chest, but he forced it down.

His telepathy reached out, desperately grasping for a mind—anyone.

Nothing.

The helicopters were already too far.

Aleksandr swallowed, his throat tight.

He had to keep going.

His eyes darted toward the facility's outdoor car park, untouched by the spreading fire.

His legs moved before his mind could even register it—sprinting, pushing forward despite the exhaustion.

By the time he reached the lot, his body felt like it was on the verge of collapse.

His hand shot into his pocket, pulling out the stolen car key he had taken from a facility staff member. Along with their knowledge.

He climbed into the car, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

Then—he started the engine.

With one final glance at the burning wreckage of his past, Aleksandr pressed his foot down on the gas.

And drove toward the city. Alone.

Aleksandr's hand tightened around the car key, his breathing uneven.

He turned his head toward the burning ruins, his chest tightening as a brutal war waged inside his mind.

Anya. Ivan.

Were they still inside? Were they among the ones rescued?

He had no way of knowing.

'I should go back.'

The thought hit him like a hammer, his instincts screaming at him to turn around, to search, to fight through the fire if he had to.

But—

His fists clenched. His logic snapped back with cold precision.

If he went back now, he'd be walking into a graveyard. The **fire, the collapsing structures, the unknown dangers—**he'd be dead before he even found them.

If they were still alive, if they had been rescued, then going back wouldn't change anything.

And if they hadn't—

Aleksandr gritted his teeth, shoving the thought away. There was nothing left for him in that facility.

_____________________

The city lights flickered through the car window, casting ghostly streaks across Aleksandr's pale face. The rhythmic hum of the engine did nothing to drown out the deafening silence inside his head.

He had driven through the streets unnoticed, blending into the early morning haze like just another forgotten soul. The roads stretched on, indifferent to the blood staining his clothes, to the emptiness pressing against his ribs.

Then, finally—

His destination.

A small, run-down apartment in the outskirts of the city. The home of the staff member whose key and car Aleksandr had stolen.

He pulled into the building's dimly lit parking lot, killed the engine, and stepped out.

Every movement felt mechanical, like he was operating on some autopilot instinct—one that hadn't quite shut down yet.

The front door was locked.

It didn't matter.

Aleksandr brought his palm over the knob, and with a quick control of magnetism, the lock clicked open.

He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. The place was modest, barely lived-in. Cold. Empty. A perfect match for what he felt inside.

His steps were unsteady as he made his way toward the living room, his legs finally giving out as he collapsed into a chair.

The exhaustion hit all at once.

His muscles went slack. His entire body throbbed, aching from the brutal battle, from the escape, from the relentless fight for survival.

The wounds and bruises littering his skin slowly knitted themselves together, his healing factor kicking in.

But no quirk in this world—no regeneration, no miracle ability—could fix what was broken inside him.

Aleksandr sat in absolute stillness, staring down at his hands.

They were still stained red with Gervasii's blood.

His breath hitched. Something twisted violently inside him.

For the first time in his life—

His mind failed him.

There was no logical assessment, no rational next step, no strategy to analyze and execute.

Nothing.

Just—

Pain.

A sharp, burning pain not of the body, but of something deeper.

His fingers twitched. His vision blurred.

And then—

A tear slipped down his cheek.

He barely registered it.

The drop of liquid slid over his skin, falling silently—

Landing onto his bloodied hands.

Aleksandr stared at it.

The first tear he had shed in years.

And then another followed.

And another.

His shoulders trembled—just slightly.

No sound. No sobbing.

Just the quiet, shattering realization:

He had lost them. He had lost Yulia. He had lost Gervasii.

And he didn't even know if Ivan and Anya were still alive.

He was alone.