Darkness.
A vast, suffocating void wrapped around me like a thick blanket, pulling me deeper into its abyss. No sound, no sensation—just an endless nothingness stretching in all directions.
Was this death?
I should have been scared. Maybe even in pain. But instead, I felt… numb. Weightless. Drifting without control, like a feather caught in the wind.
Then, faintly, a whisper.
It wasn't a voice. Not really. More like scattered fragments of memories—distant, hazy, as if I was looking at them through frosted glass.
Faces I had once known. A world I had once lived in.
And then—
Pain.
A dull, throbbing ache pulsed in my skull, spreading like wildfire through my entire body. The nothingness shattered.
Light.
A blinding flash pierced the darkness, forcing my eyes shut. My ears rang, my head spun, and then—
I woke up.
---
At first, everything was a blur.
Shapes. Colors. The soft glow of sunlight filtering through a window. The faint scent of detergent mixed with something sweet.
I groaned, my body heavy, my limbs weak as I tried to move. My mind was foggy, like I had just woken from the deepest sleep imaginable.
Then, slowly, things started coming into focus.
A bed. Small, soft, unfamiliar. A tiny desk with neat stacks of books and scattered hero figurines. Walls covered in posters.
I squinted at them, my vision still adjusting.
A muscular figure, beaming with a wide, toothy grin.
"All Might?"
My chest tightened.
No. No, this wasn't right.
Something about this felt off.
I forced myself to sit up, my breath shaky as I took in more details. The room was neat, well-kept, but it was the sheer amount of merchandise that made my stomach drop.
I turned my head slowly, hesitantly, until my gaze landed on a mirror near the wardrobe.
And that's when the real horror began.
A child stared back at me.
Messy green hair. Wide, round eyes. Freckles dotted across his cheeks.
A face I had seen before. A face I knew.
A sharp gasp escaped my lips. My small hands shot up to touch my face, feeling the soft skin, the rounded features. My breath quickened, my heart pounding like a drum.
"No… no, no, no, this can't—"
Panic clawed at my chest as realization hit me like a freight train.
I stumbled back, knocking over a stack of books. My legs shook, barely able to hold my weight. I turned away from the mirror, gripping my head as flashes of two different lives collided inside my mind.
Nathan Carter. A man who struggled, who fought, who died in an alley while trying to help someone.
Izuku Midoriya. A boy who dreamed of becoming a hero but was crushed under the weight of reality.
Two lives. Two identities. One body.
I gasped for air, my vision swimming. My knees hit the floor.
"I am Izuku Midoriya…?!"
The words left my mouth, and the moment they did, something inside me snapped.
My head throbbed as fragmented memories—his memories—rushed through my mind.
A doctor's cold, dismissive voice.
"There's no hope. He's Quirkless."
The sting of hot tears. The weight of my mother's sorrow.
The laughter.
"You're useless, Deku!"
Bakugo's cruel voice echoed in my ears.
I clutched my head, my nails digging into my scalp. Stop. Stop. STOP.
A sudden noise snapped me out of my breakdown.
Footsteps.
The door burst open.
"Izu!"
A voice filled with panic and worry.
Before I could react, arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.
Warm. Soft. Familiar.
I knew this embrace.
I didn't even have time to resist before I was engulfed in the scent of fresh laundry and something faintly sweet—cinnamon, maybe.
It was comforting. Too comforting.
"Izu, sweetheart, what's wrong?!"
Her voice trembled, thick with concern.
Inko Midoriya.
I froze.
My breath hitched as I looked up at her—really looked at her.
She was young. Not the tired, slightly worn-out woman I had seen in the anime. No gray hairs. No signs of years of stress. Just a mother with kind, worried eyes.
Eyes that now brimmed with unshed tears.
My throat tightened.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't some hallucination.
This was real.
And I—
I was her son.
"Izu?" she whispered, pulling back slightly to cup my face. "Why are you crying, baby?"
I didn't even realize I was crying.
Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless. My body trembled, my heart a chaotic mess in my chest.
I wanted to say something. Anything. But the words caught in my throat.
She looked so worried. So scared for me.
It was too much.
I broke.
With a choked sob, I threw my arms around her, burying my face into her shoulder.
I don't know why I cried. Maybe it was from shock. From confusion. From the overwhelming reality of everything.
But I clung to her like she was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.
She didn't ask questions. She just held me.
For what felt like an eternity, she rocked me gently, whispering soft reassurances, her hand stroking my back.
It was comforting.
It was everything.
And for the first time since waking up in this strange new life, I felt safe.
---
Eventually, my sobs quieted. My breathing steadied.
She pulled back slightly, brushing my hair from my face. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.
I swallowed thickly. "I…"
The words caught in my throat.
I wanted to tell her everything. About Nathan. About the memories. About the storm raging inside my head.
But I couldn't.
Instead, I latched onto the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm Quirkless," I whispered.
Her expression faltered.
It was subtle. Just a small flicker of sadness in her eyes. But I saw it.
And it hurt.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "The doctor… he said there's no hope. That I'll never have a Quirk."
Her grip on my shoulders tightened.
For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue. To say something—anything—that could soften the blow.
But she didn't.
Because we both knew it was the truth.
Instead, she did the only thing she could.
She pulled me into another hug.
"I'm so sorry, Izu," she whispered. "I… I wish things were different."
I squeezed my eyes shut, my small fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.
Sorry wouldn't change anything.
Sorry wouldn't make me stronger.
But still…
It helped.
Even just a little.
We stayed like that for a while—just a mother and her son, clinging to each other in the quiet of a sunlit bedroom.
Until finally, I pulled away.
My hands curled into fists.
"I don't care," I said.
She blinked. "Izu…?"
I lifted my gaze, meeting hers with determination.
"I will be a hero."
She looked startled by my sudden declaration.
"But… sweetheart, you—"
"I don't care if I don't have a Quirk." My voice was firm. "I'll find another way."
Something flickered in her eyes. Fear. Worry. And something else—something close to admiration.
"You really mean that, don't you?" she murmured.
I nodded.
A small, watery smile crossed her lips.
"Then I'll support you," she said softly. "But promise me… you'll protect yourself first, okay?"
I took a deep breath.
"I promise."
And just like that—
My path was set.
----------------------------------------------------------
After my declaration, silence filled the room. Inko stared at me, her lips slightly parted, as if she was searching for the right words to say. I could see the emotions swirling in her eyes—fear, worry, hope, and something even deeper. Maybe she wanted to believe in me, but reality had taught her to be afraid.
I swallowed hard, my small fists clenching tighter.
I needed to say something—anything—to make her believe me.
"Mom, I know it won't be easy. I know I don't have a Quirk… but I can't just give up." My voice was steadier now, more certain. "I have to try. Because if I don't, then everything I believe in—everything I dream of—it'll all mean nothing."
Her breath hitched.
"Izu…" she whispered, voice thick with emotion. She brought a trembling hand to my cheek, brushing away the remnants of my earlier tears. "You're just a boy… You shouldn't have to carry such a burden."
I reached up, placing my much smaller hand over hers.
"I know," I admitted. "But heroes… real heroes… they don't wait for things to be easy. They don't run just because the odds are against them. They move forward, no matter what."
Her eyes widened, as if she was seeing me—truly seeing me—for the first time.
For a long moment, she just looked at me, studying my face as though searching for something. Then, slowly, she let out a shaky breath and nodded.
"Alright, Izuku…" she said softly. "If this is what you really want—if you truly believe you can do this—then I'll support you." Her voice wavered slightly, but there was conviction behind it. "No matter what the world says, I'll be right here. I just… I just want you to be safe. Promise me that?"
Something warm spread through my chest. I nodded.
"I promise."
She smiled then—small and fragile, but real. And in that moment, I knew: she wasn't just saying this to comfort me. She believed in me.
And that meant more than anything.
---
After our conversation, Inko made me a warm cup of tea and left me alone to process everything. I sat on the bed, gripping the cup tightly, staring at the steam rising from it.
My mind was still a mess. Even though I had resolved myself to move forward, I couldn't ignore the reality of my situation.
I was Izuku Midoriya.
But I was also Nathan Carter.
Two people. Two lives. Two sets of memories, thoughts, and emotions.
I exhaled shakily, rubbing my temple. My head still ached from the flood of memories, the collision of two existences. It was overwhelming, but I had no choice but to face it.
I forced myself to think. To break everything down logically.
In this world, Izuku Midoriya was a boy who had been born without a Quirk. He had idolized heroes, had dreamed of being like them, but society had already decided his fate. No Quirk, no chance. That was the cruel reality of this world.
And yet… I was here now.
Nathan Carter. A man who had lived an entirely different life, in an entirely different world. A man who had seen the story of Izuku Midoriya play out from the perspective of an audience.
I had knowledge.
I knew the future—at least, up to a point. I knew the people, the events, the dangers that would unfold. And most importantly, I knew that the world I was in wasn't fair.
I took a deep breath, setting the cup down on my bedside table.
This wasn't a game. It wasn't just some dream I would wake up from.
If I wanted to survive—if I wanted to truly become a hero—I needed to be smart. I needed to be prepared.
Because in this world, being strong wasn't enough.
I had to be more than strong. I had to be capable.
---
The first step was figuring out what I could do with what I had.
No Quirk meant no natural-born advantages. But I wasn't helpless.
I had knowledge. That was my weapon. And if I used it correctly, it would be my greatest advantage.
I thought back to the heroes of this world—what made them great. Not just their Quirks, but their skills. Their training.
Endeavor, as much as I disliked his personality, was a physical monster. His sheer dedication to pushing himself beyond his limits was something I couldn't ignore.
Aizawa—Eraserhead—he thrived not because of his Quirk alone, but because of his tactical intelligence and hand-to-hand combat skills.
And then, there was All Might. The symbol of peace.
He was strong, yes, but what made him truly great was his heart. His unwavering spirit.
I inhaled deeply.
If I wanted to be a hero, I needed to build myself up from scratch. Physically. Mentally. Strategically.
I needed to train. Not just my body, but my mind.
The world may have labeled me Quirkless, but that didn't mean I was powerless.
I would prove it.
Starting now.
---
I made my way back to the mirror, staring at my reflection once more.
The face of a boy. Small, frail, with bright green eyes full of uncertainty.
But within those eyes, there was something else.
A spark. A fire. A determination that hadn't been there before.
I placed a hand over my chest, feeling my heartbeat—steady, strong.
"Izuku Midoriya… Nathan Carter…" I whispered, watching my reflection carefully. "It doesn't matter what name I go by. It doesn't matter what this world expects of me."
I straightened my back, my lips pressing into a firm line.
"I will carve my own path. And I will become a hero."
No matter what it takes.
---
Author's note:-
Cold sucks man,cold sucks. I am suffering from cold for 2 or 3 weeks and it's act like a bitch.I really wanted to write this chapter after writing the prologue but due to severe cold and my crunch time starting in college makes me too much busy.I will write the story and also try to complete it in this year. And I also want to write many other projects after this story. This idea has been lingering inside my mind for a year and so. I really want to be accustomed to writing this story. Also make sure to support me by following this story and dropping me some power stones.