NOVEL SIMPLE The U.S.J incident (Gore warning)
Chapter 13
Year 2153, April 10 (Malthael PoV)
As I drive past cars and trucks, my gaze stays sternly on the road.
"I can feel you're tense. What's wrong?" my wife’s voice, calm and soothing, cuts through my thoughts.
Smiling, I answer:"I don't know. I just have a feeling today’s going to bring problems."
"Don't worry," she says. "It’ll all be fine. As long as you’re there, nothing will happen."
Relaxing at her words, I notice the school coming into view.
Once we arrive, we meet up with the others and head to the locker rooms to change into our costumes—except for Midoriya, whose outfit got destroyed during the combat test.
Taking a deep breath, I shout:“Everyone, get on the bus, slowly and in order.”
After everyone settles in, I hear the usual chatter from the canon start up—Midoriya, Asui, and Kirishima talking about their quirks, along with Bakugo being teased. But there were a few new details.
“Well, if we’re talking about flashiness, Bakugo and Todoroki take the cake—no, wait, Mal does,” Kirishima says. “His quirk has it all: flashiness, power, that physique, his abilities, even his looks. The guy really lucked out. And he’s rich on top of it.”
“You say that, but what about his scars?” Sero shivers, glancing around. “I wouldn’t exactly call it luck, considering whatever caused those.”
Ochako asks:“Scars? You mean the ones on his face?”
Sero shakes his head:“No, in the locker rooms when we were changing. His upper body’s covered in jagged scars. But there’s one scar I can’t stop wondering about—a line all around his neck, as if… he’d been decapitated.”
They look my way and realize I’m listening in on their conversation. Smirking, I say:“Yeah? Don’t be shy now. I don’t mind you talking about me.”
Before anyone could reply, we arrive.
As we step out, I’m struck by the sheer size of the dome in front of me. "The anime doesn’t do it justice."
Suddenly, a strong scent hits my nose, dragging up memories of my darkest day. It’s the unique smell of crowbane. Turning to find its source, I see the Space Hero: No. 13 in her chunky space outfit. Unable to stop myself, I stride over and—sniff her?
A surprised reaction comes from No. 13, who seems embarrassed but curious. She’s aware of what my quirk entails and asks:“What’s wrong? Do I smell bad?”
Regaining control over my body, I smile and say:“No, you smell… delicious… in many ways.” With a wink, I step back, only to feel a hand on my shoulder and hear Aizawa’s voice.
“What was that?”
“My quirk acted on its own. She carries the same smell as crowbane. I don't know what this is.”
“Ok, we'll discuss this after school.”
With the interaction over, everyone heads inside. I tap Hagakure’s shoulder, catching her attention:“Listen, we don’t know each other well enough yet to have complete trust, but can you stay a bit behind everyone? I’ve got a bad feeling, okay?”
She seems to think it over, then responds cheerfully:“Okay, will do.”
With that, I quickly join the others.
It begins. New scents fill my nose as the warpgate opens, and over seventy villains pour in.
I try to stay calm and let the canon events play out, hoping to step in just in time to save Aizawa from being injured by the Nomu, which would weaken his quirk.
The reality of the situation hits hard, though; the anime doesn’t capture the intensity of these moments. The scene of Aizawa jumping down to fight and us running toward the exit all happens in less than half a minute.
And then he appears—Kurogiri, carrying the same strange smell as No. 13. The scent overwhelms me, numbing my senses and actions. What is this?
Still paralyzed, I can’t resist as I’m warped away. I barely notice Iida running toward me, trying to reach me. "This is strange—didn’t he save someone else in the canon? Why is he trying to save me…? You'll be warped away, no. Well, I warned Hagakure, let's hope this all goes well"
With that thought, I’m whisked away to a different area. I crash onto concrete, the impact jarring me. Looking up, I see flames engulfing buildings.
Realizing how quickly everything is happening, I know the “fight” between Aizawa and the Nomu can’t be far off.
Steadying myself, I unfurl my wings and fly toward the central plaza.
-No PoV
Those watching from the stairs and water saw the Nomu lift Aizawa, ready to slam him into the ground. But suddenly, an object crashed into them, creating a cloud of dust.
As the dust settled, what they saw was unbelievable. It wasn’t just an object—it was Malthael. He had sliced off the Nomu’s arm holding Aizawa and now hovered over the creature, holding Aizawa securely.
Aizawa, disoriented and slightly angry, snapped:“What are you doing? Run away!”
“What am I doing? Saving your life,” Malthael replied calmly.
Landing atop the stairs, he set Aizawa down:“Stay here. You’re no match for them.”
As Malthael turned back, he thought, "This is problematic. From the scent, it seems Hagakure’s already gone—good. But the Nomu needs to be kept distracted, or Midoriya, Asui, and… Momo might get hurt. Why is she here? The canon’s changed too much. I can’t trust what I know anymore."
Aizawa overheard Malthael muttering to himself:“Damn… I don’t want to die.”
And with that, Malthael launched himself back into the air, directly toward the Nomu, fully intent on drawing its attention, along with Kurogiri and Shigaraki’s.
Hovering above the Nomu, Malthael unleashed a wave of fire, bathing the creature in flames. The Nomu’s flesh slowly began to burn, though Malthael hadn’t yet mastered generating enough heat to destroy cells instantly, so this would be a drawn-out process. Thankfully, all he needed was time.
Watching the Nomu regenerate was fascinating yet revolting. Malthael had seen blood and muscle before, but witnessing raw cells and fibers re-form before his eyes was something else entirely.
To try slowing the regeneration, he exhaled a stream of ash along with the flames, letting it sink into the Nomu’s wounds. However, things quickly took a turn.
The Nomu, not one to idly endure pain, suddenly tore a massive chunk of concrete from the ground and hurled it at Malthael, faster than he could react.
The force of the impact sent Malthael crashing to the ground. Dazed, he attempted to take flight again, but the Nomu was faster, towering over him in an instant. With a terrifying precision, the Nomu seized his right wing, clamping down hard.
Despite his efforts, Malthael couldn’t break free. All eyes were on him as the Nomu wrenched his wings from his body, and Malthael’s scream tore through the air, blood spattering around him as bits of bone and muscle scattered.
But he wasn’t the only one screaming.
“NOOO!” Momo’s voice echoed, drawing Shigaraki’s attention to her and revealing their location. With a twisted smile, he started moving toward her and the others.
Still reeling from the pain, Malthael forced himself up, pushing the agony aside as best he could, and sprinted toward Momo and the others.
But the Nomu appeared before him, still clutching the torn wings in one hand. Eyes wide with fear, Malthael instinctively raised his shield, only for it to shatter instantly upon impact. Seizing the opportunity, he released an ash shockwave, knocking Momo and the others into the water, away from the danger.
“Don’t interfere,” he shouted. “You’ll only get in my way.”
Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed in rage. Not only had his plan to kill All Might failed, but now even his attempt to kill the students and Eraserhead was being thwarted—by a single person.
-Malthael PoV
The pain in my back was numbing, and the reality of losing my ability to fly weighed heavily on me, but there was no time to mourn. I had managed to push Momo and the others away, yet panic clawed at my mind as I realized the severity of my situation. "How long had it been since I started fighting? When would All Might arrive? Would I survive? I didn’t want to die. I DIDN'T WANT TO DIE!
I had faced this life with a strange confidence, believing I was somehow invincible. After all, this was like those stories where the main character always comes out on top. But I wasn't in such a story and I realized this against this Nomu—a creature of relentless strength, speed, and regeneration—it felt truly impossible. Survival wasn’t the goal anymore; stalling was. But here I stood, crippled, blood gushing from my back, my vision swimming with dizziness.
A punch flew toward my chest, and I narrowly dodged, retaliating with a vertical swing of my sword. I watched as the Nomu’s arm fell, only to regrow in seconds. Each slash, each dodge—it was a grueling eternity compressed into seconds as my dread intensified.
Another fist hurtled toward me. I raised my sword to parry, aiming to decapitate the Nomu to stall it even briefly, but the blade shattered against its strength. Flames burst from my mouth, and I stumbled back, hoping for a breather.
A warning shout pierced the chaos: “WATCH OUT, BEHIND YOU!”
Instinctively, I darted to the right, only to feel Shigaraki’s decaying touch graze my left wrist, his hand latching on. A flash of terror washed over me as I realized who it was.
My body reacted before my mind could, tail whipping around to slam into Shigaraki’s ribs with a sickening crack. Without hesitating, I used the blade at my tail’s end to slice my left arm off at the elbow, severing it from his grip. I watched my own arm hit the ground, blood gushing and quickly turning to dust. The agony was immense, crashing into me like waves, but I managed to tear a strip of cloth from my poncho and tie it around the stump to staunch the bleeding. The next attack from the Nomu barely missed me.
This strategy wasn’t working. Stalling was no longer an option. I had to kill it—somehow. All Might should’ve been here by now, but he wasn’t. Iida had reached him in the canon. Hagakure left to get help, but she wasn’t as fast. I had to end this myself.
Determined, I threw myself back into the fight, dodging each punch that could shatter my bones, slashing with claws, tail, and fire whenever an opening appeared. With no crows to aid me, I focused on dealing blow after blow, but it was barely slowing the Nomu. I noticed Kurogiri fleeing, half-dragging a blood-coughing Shigaraki. Good—my hit probably damaged his organs. Shigaraki wouldn’t be a problem anymore.
Yet, the smell lingered, that same unique, disturbing scent. Kurogiri and Thirteen were gone, but something remained—something wrong. I had no time to figure it out.
Before I could process, a brutal kick connected with my right shin, sending me careening into the stairs at a speed I hadn’t known was possible. Dazed, I looked down to see my mangled leg. Bones felt shattered beneath, my scales cracked and hanging, revealing raw, bloodied muscle. The pain was overwhelming, snapping the last threads of my resolve.
My vision blurred, and I could feel myself slipping, consciousness fading under the weight of everything—fear, exhaustion, pain. As my eyes fluttered closed, I surrendered, welcoming the break, even if it was only temporary.
-No PoV
"I greet thee once more, O Primordial dragon. Thou hast consumed a foe reborn in ceaseless flesh. In the heat of battle and the act of devouring, thou hast felt the fervent longing to endure, and thereby gained the sacred boon of a self-healing form. Now shalt thou mend from any wound yet to heal, though scars of the past remain untouched. And know this—thy blood, thy very essence, hath grown rich with powers of restoration, a balm to close even ancient wounds, though such gifts shall flow only to others, and ne’er to thyself."
Thinking back to the Nomu, Malthael quickly inspected his body. His scales had crept further across his form, his frame had broadened slightly, and his draconic traits seemed to have evolved even more. He sighed in resignation. “I lost control again. Looks like I managed to kill the Nomu… and eat it.” he thought, “Maybe that’s what the unique smell is—the scent of powers I can… acquire.”
As footsteps and murmuring voices grew closer, Malthael steadied himself. He knew a flood of questions was about to hit, and he’d have to face the aftermath of his transformation and the unsettling discovery of his new abilities.
But he survived, that's what mattered.