Capítulo 12: Chapter 12 - A New Symbol
Crimson-I was building my original novel's world so it took time sorry thx mamedh, external and flipin for your support.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Eraserhead stepped into the dimly lit room, his eyes darker than usual shadowed by sleepless nights and the burden of recent events. His every step was slow as if the air itself weighed him down. The low hum of machinery filled the silence, blending with the faint clinking of keyboards.
Nedzu gently placed his teacup on the table, his gaze followed him, silently searching for answers in the slumped figure of his colleague. A slight shake of Eraser's head was all he received.
"As you thought. . . nothing much." eraser said muttered, nedzu's tiny paw massaging his forehead, each movement a sign of his growing weariness.
The heavy atmosphere seemed to cling to the walls as Nedzu pressed on. "What happened with the other countries?"
"CCP is, as expected, not helping," Aizawa responded, his voice low and hoarse. "Those people are being celebrated as heroes in China, while West is on hold for now."
Nedzu's eyes darkened, his grip tightening slightly around the cup. "That was obvious..." he muttered. "The wound might fill up, but the scar remains."
Aizawa let out a long breath. "No traces found on web either. . .a teleportation quirk or some new mystery class projection quirk might be at play."
Nedzu's eyes flickered with consideration before he raised his cup slightly, a silent offer. Aizawa, barely looking at it, shook his head. "Or." Nedzu mused, taking a small sip, "They could've used air couriers. Takes an hour or two. Nothing question-worthy to check either."
The cup gently clinked as it returned to the table. "Although surprising, it's not that shocking considering the amount of free time children have. The interview spread like wildfire among them first." Aizawa spoke.
Nedzu maintained silence for a few moment his mind running at it's horizon ". . .Some parents have already sued the Hero Commission for breaching their children's privacy."
Aizawa's silence was deafening, his gaze fixed on the ground. Nedzu drained the last of his coffee in one swift gulp, the bitter taste mirroring the conversation.
"There's nothing solid we could use to identify the suspects." Aizawa admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "The only lead, if we can even call it that, is the wave being more dominant in the poor regions. . . slums."
"Of course it is!" Nedzu's voice cut through the air, sharper than before. Aizawa's brow furrowed in thought, not used to seeing this side of the principal. "What do you think about Jin Asano?" he said clamly.
Aizawa waved his hand dismissively. "I don't think he's behind this, Principal." But Nedzu shook his head, a weary sigh escaping him. "If this was orchestrated by a child, we might as well change sides, What I meant was, as a teacher."
A pause lingered between them as if the next words had to fight to break free from the weight of reality. "If the records are true, then he was a reckless child. Not good at studies, constantly involved in school fights, even harming teachers. Substance abuse..." Nedzu gave a tired laugh, but it was hollow, echoing the helplessness that had settled into his bones. "Honestly, he shouldn't have even made it to high school, let alone repeating the same class for two years." Aizawa said in a flat tone.
Nedzu pressed a few buttons on the control panel beside him, the screen lighting up with old, grainy photos. A young boy, Jin, stood proudly, holding All Might toys and merchandise, a piece of paper clutched in his small hands that boldly read: I'll be a hero.
Aizawa's eyes softened, but just for a moment.
"The change started a few years ago," Nedzu continued, his voice growing quieter, more pained. "No more hero merchandise, no more smile, no more logo."
"Children tend to grow up, Principal," Aizawa grumbled, scratching the back of his head.
"We both know how unforgiving society is to those who differ," Nedzu whispered, his voice carrying the weight of years spent watching the world around him. "That's exactly why. . .why I tried to minimize the damage, But we failed. . . spectacularly."
Aizawa exhaled deeply, walking toward the table and slumping into the chair next to Nedzu. His eyes scanned the data on the screen, but it only deepened the lines of exhaustion on his face. "It wasn't your fault, Principal."
Nedzu's small frame seemed to sag under the weight of the moment. "Fault doesn't matter, Aizawa. . . consequences do . . .they always will."
There was a long silence, broken only by the faint buzz of the computer. Nedzu stared at the photos, his heart heavy. "It pains me to think how a child bore all that pain alone, throughout these years," his voice barely above a whisper.
"Even after everything, Aizawa. . . even after all that, he didn't let the world break him. . .we missed a great hero. . . no, worse, we made this tragedy. . .All of us did and the bigger the dream, the heavier the crash. . . now the shards of that dream dangle around our necks, cutting deeper and deeper. . . and deeper. . .until either the neck fall or they shatter."
Aizawa closed his eyes briefly, the truth settling uncomfortably between them. "That's been the case for the longest time, the number one reason people turn toward villainy "
He paused. "Maybe finding out what happened to him will help. Maybe it's the wake-up call hero society always needed."
The room felt colder now as if even the walls were listening, waiting for the inevitable truth to unfold. Nedzu swallowed hard, his throat tightening.
". . .All Might happened to him."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final, as if they had been waiting for years to be spoken aloud.
Aizawa felt a chill crawl up his spine, Nedzu continued "The dam has been broken. Now. . . now, we wait the flood." his voice cracked slightly as he clicked a few buttons, bringing up online forums filled with support for Jin. People rallying behind him and the unknown voices beneath the surface
Slowly, Nedzu stood up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the wall, revealing a dusty bottle of whiskey. He poured a small amount into a glass, his tiny hand shaking ever so slightly as he brought it to his lips.
"A new symbol is about to be born, Aizawa," Nedzu said quietly, his eyes fixed on the glass. "Far more appealing than fear."
Aizawa shot up from his chair, his eyes widening in realization. "You mean—"
"The Symbol of Peace couldn't see the suffering behind a simple question. . . and now we wait to see a new symbol."
Aizawa's mouth went dry. His hand unconsciously gripped the edge of the table. "If his quirk is stronger than the problem child. . .then. . ."
Nedzu nodded gravely. "Yes, the moths will find a new light. . . a new. . .ALL FOR ONE arrange a meeting with the board and bring the chairwomen too. "
As the world outside spun in chaos, bracing for the unknown tides of change, the night was no longer a time for rest, a battlefield—whispers of hidden agendas, shadows moving in pursuit of a destination. All sides, poised to strike, danced in a web of deception, each move creating ripples, unknown variables adding to the intricate schemes already in motion.
And at the centre of it all, the architect of the turmoil sat back, Perched upon his floating throne, observing his past through the thunder, his throne floating beside alfred and lagiacrus, their amusement clear, The sea below them churned, indifferent to the struggles of the world above.
Alfred, standing on the scales of the sea dragon, felt the weight of his revelations. He'd seen things about Jin—learned things—things that would unsettle anyone who watched omnipotently from the shadows of another's life. There was no escaping the truth, no denying what he saw, this can't be the boogeyman.
"I must say, it's quite brilliant. Simply genius on so many levels—deceptively simple, yet remarkably effective." Alfred's said his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the young Jin displayed in the hologram.
The scene flickered: Jin, a teenager, moved effortlessly through a street brawl—school bullies, reduced to mere practice dummies under his well-timed fists. Every punch, every shift of his body had precision, an intention behind it that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
Alfred's breath caught as he leaned closer, the dim light playing on his face. What monstrous talent he thought. And those movements… so refined, so calculated._ He couldn't help but feel a gnawing curiosity and a faint, disturbing admiration. How could someone so young possess such control, such mastery?
"It's rather ingenious, I must admit. Blending in as one of the common bullies, effortlessly solving the issue of funding and training, all while using it as a simple disguise to observe those in turmoil," Alfred murmured, more to himself than to Jin. His tone held a mix of astonishment and wariness like a scholar discovering something he wished he hadn't. "Slowly moulding them into your following without ever truly revealing who you are. I daresay, the reverence they hold for you only grows when seen from a distance."
He shook his head, finally breaking his gaze from the image. His voice dipped lower, laced with an unsettling truth. "I find myself both impressed. . . and, if I'm honest, rather disturbed. Mind me, but that isn't something a child does."
Jin, reclining lazily beside him on his floating throne, barely shifted at the comment. A lazy wave of his hand. "Ahh, it was nothing more than a warm-up," his voice tinged with the ghost of a smile.
"School wasn't for me. . .not that there was anyone to monitor me either, I had free time on hand so i used them as dummies to see how my analytical skills would fare in the real world. And don't even get me started on that whole group thing. It was more of a helping hand, and then it spiralled into some children's fantasy of 'what if?'"
His smile broadened, a faint trace of nostalgia flickering in his eyes. "To be quite fair, even I was excited. I'm more surprised that no one else thought of this. . . like, really?"
Alfred's lips twisted into a half-smile, though it lacked any real amusement. He shook his head lightly, his tone measured. "On the contrary, Sir the notion does indeed have considerable potential. However, as you might have heard or seen. . . the underworld is far less forgiving than yourself. They don't seek allies in need of nurturing, but tools with stronger quirks, without the weakness of requiring assistance."
A shadow crossed Jin's face, his amusement fading as he gave a short hum, eyes darkening slightly. He knew the truth of that statement all too well—the brutality with which "tools" were honed, sharpened, and discarded when dull.
"Well, if I may say." Alfred continued, his voice dropping in deference. "Helping children, shaping them into something more without expecting instant gains. . . it's not exactly a weekend hobby. It requires immense time, dedication, and a heavy amount of foresight. Not to mention, humanity... something many in this world are hesitant to spare."
Jin remained quiet, his fingers absently tracing the arm of his throne. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Alfred cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "While it's easier to form bonds with those who share your circumstances—" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, knowing full well the fine line he walked. "I must say, sir, I don't believe you fully grasp the gravity of your actions. Despite lacking the. . . more conventional abilities at that time—"
Jin's gaze flickered toward him, sharp and knowing. "It's fine. I am not one of those fools. always speak your mind—flattery never helped the receiver."
Alfred nodded, relieved but cautious. "Your age and constant willingness to aid weaker people, a reflection of their own—without any personal gain in their sight—has garnered quite the devoted following. It's rather impressive, though one might argue it borders on something of a... cult-like admiration."
Jin leaned back, considering this with a thoughtful expression, his earlier levity gone. His voice softened, carrying the weight of reflection. "I don't require followers. I want comrades who can think and help me grow, we have to do something about it."
Alfred watched him closely, a silent understanding passing between them. The world around them was shifting, unpredictable. But here, in the quiet space of their own designs, there was clarity—plans within plans, waiting to be set into motion.
The night before the dam broke, the air around Jin's house seemed to hum with tension. The last week had passed in a blur—he'd skipped school, and isolated himself from everything that didn't serve his intricate plan. Even the teachers, who had tried to keep their distance, were now murmuring in hushed tones about his strange behaviour. But they didn't know—**they couldn't know**—that by summoning Jin to the office tomorrow, they were going to make history.
Sitting at his cluttered desk, Jin's fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over a blank sheet of paper. A bead of sweat traced a slow path down the side of his temple, though his expression remained sharp, focused. His room, dimly lit by the pale glow of a single bulb, seemed to echo the mounting pressure in his chest. The silence was thick, broken only by the steady scratching of his pen as he spoke aloud to no one in particular.
"Let's seeee, I've only watched till season 4, and even that was so-so," he muttered, frustration biting at the edges of his voice. "Some facts I heard in short. . . They better not be some fucking theories, or I am doomed."
He drew a straight line across the paper, dots peppering the path, each one marked with a hastily scrawled note. His breath quickened as if time itself were bearing down on him, demanding results. In the corner of the room, Alfred, ever watchful, observed the strange everything with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.
While Jin and his companions, however, fidgeted nervously, eyes darting between him and the thunder. Meanwhile, the old cat, hissed incessantly, its growls rising in volume, overloading Jin's already frayed nerves. 'Damn it i thought it would get censored like last time.'
"First, we start with bullying, then the sludge fucker, then hero saves the day," Jin's hand moved faster, lines connecting events like a web tightening around him. "I still don't understand how he was so careless with his powers. . . that's plot armour in its fullest."
The words poured out in a torrent, but they were more than just thoughts—they were pieces of a larger puzzle only Jin could see. To the others, it was madness, to Jin, it was survival.
Alfred tilted his head, eyes narrowing in confusion. Jin's words were foreign, filled with references he didn't understand. Yet, even in his ignorance, he sensed the weight behind them—the frantic urgency lurking just beneath Jin's exterior. The boy's mind was racing, but it wasn't panic. It was calculation.
"My memory is crustal clear till the festival," Jin said, his tone darker now, tinged with self-doubt. He rubbed his temples as if the pressure of his thoughts had become unbearable. "Although I might be missing a few details here and there... In the exam, he met those two, then I think there was a villain and hero team… and then the villains will strike them."
He stopped, pen hovering above the paper, a long pause stretching the silence before he spoke again, softer, more dangerous.
"If I can kill him… No, no, no... I can't do that. Things would get way too unpredictable." His grip tightened around the pen, knuckles white. "God knows what kind of effect Natsu and Kenta already have."
The room felt smaller now, suffocating. Alfred's gaze watched Jin, noticing how his calm demeanor was nothing more than a mask, a thin veil over the storm brewing inside.
In the thunder his chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, leg tapping relentlessly against the floor, the sound a relentless reminder of the ticking clock.
"Then. . . the festival, right?" Jin scratched at his scalp, a grimace twisting his features. "Am I missing something? What would be the logical action... rest, heal, and train. Tsk, fuck. Either way, I hope those fuckers make it. I'll see what I can do... least somethings really change."
His laugh was brief but chilling, the kind of laugh that didn't reach his eyes. It held no joy—only a cold certainty.
"And finally. . . Hosu," he said, voice barely above a whisper, his lips curling into a devilish grin. "Yes, Hero Killer Stain. . . how could we forget him? That's the tipping point, and it's probably the perfect place to make a name for myself."
Alfred's attention snapped back to Jin as he scribbled notes faster now, words in a language unfamiliar to anyone in the room but him. Something about it was unsettling—an organized chaos that only Jin seemed to understand.
"I can't believe _Lord of the Rings_ is still helping me here," Jin chuckled, the sound hollow, almost delirious. Alfred's eyes darkened with suspicion. 'Lord of the Rings. . .' The name circled in his mind. What was he planning? Was it Jin... or someone far more dangerous pulling the strings?
Jin's thoughts wandered again. "Then... I'm pretty sure there's a camp. There's so much unknown in between..." His fingers drummed against the table, nails tapping out his restlessness as his mind raced. "Damn, I'm getting restless."
The moment stretched thin, the tension in the room palpable. Jin's leg hammered the floor like a heartbeat out of control. The thin smile on his lips was anything but reassuring.
"And finally... All For One."
Alfred froze, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp intake. His eyes widened in shock, jaw slack as he processed the words. this wasn't just planning something reckless—this was insanity. All For One was a force beyond comprehension, and yet, Jin spoke of him as if he were a mere obstacle, something to be handled. A chill crept up Alfred's spine. The boy he was observing. . . had somehow become something else entirely.
"He has to die, no matter what," Jin declared, his voice thick with conviction. "All Might won't kill him, but he's far too dangerous to be left alive... and I don't know anything about the end."
Alfred's gaze softened for a moment, eyes shimmering with something unspoken. Was it admiration? Fear? Or something more complex? Whatever it was, a decision had taken root in Alfred's mind. He had seen Jin's genius, but now he was sure he saw the shadow of someone behind him this isn't something even the biggest genius of child can do. 'Lord of the rings'
"The Yakuza part will be the easiest," Jin muttered, his thoughts already moving forward, like a predator calculating its next move. "Only... what the heck am I supposed to do with her?"
His expression tightened in thought before pushing that problem aside for later.
"And that's all I know... I hope these facts are true," Jin said, pen dancing over the paper as he scrawled strange numbers in the margins, like an ancient code only he could decipher.
"Endeavor being an abusive father, no doubt. Hawks is a traitor. All For One's lackey in the Hero Commission, Kurogiri. . . yeah, he's there too. What else what else. . . I don't know where the rabbit got attacked but she was fucked up too hmm so much work to do."
He tore the paper into tiny pieces, his fingers trembling with nervous energy. The shredded fragments fell to the table like broken pieces of a future yet to come. Without hesitation, Jin began eating them one by one, his movements deliberate, as if each piece he swallowed was sealing a pact. A cup of water sat beside him, and he gulped it down between bites, forcing the paper down faster.
The act was strangely ritualistic, his face calm but his eyes betraying the storm beneath. Yet even as the paper dissolved in his mouth, turning bitter on his tongue, something in the back of his mind tugged at him—a shadow he couldn't quite place, a doubt creeping up through the cracks in his carefully laid plan.
Fate... would not be so kind to him, he remembered it well. his eyes hovering to the digital clock
11:57 Pm/ 26 / May.
"Till to blow things up"
— Novo capítulo em breve — Escreva uma avaliação
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder