MHA: Guardian of the Golden Throne

«Stay here, girl!!» Gran Torino stated.

Melissa didn't even have time to utter a word when Gran Torino moved quickly, using his quirk. As if he were a bullet, Gran Torino hit the Nomu away from the carriage.

«Gran Torinoooo!» called Melissa, following the hero's direction with her eyes.

Her eyes widened. Columns of smoke rose from the city below her, while police sirens blared in the distance. The confusion had taken hold of Melissa's thoughts.

This city is… Hosu?!

Remembering the name of the city, his thoughts became clear, but at the same time chaotic. The train attendants were urging the passengers to stay in their seats while the heroes did their duty, but Melissa didn't listen and got off the train, trying to reach Gran Torino and praying in her head that he would be careful. After all, his opponent was a Nomu. She took out her cellphone again and texted Izuku before putting it away.

"A Nomu attacked us.”

Melissa didn't know whether Izuku read or responded to her message, also because her attention was completely focused on the quickest route to Gran Torino. But when she reached the road, Melissa was hit by a crowd of terrified civilians, intent on fleeing as far as possible from where the column of smoke was rising.

She could do nothing but go against the crowd, hoping to reach the place where Gran Torino was fighting, to support him. But as she ran, her head was full of thoughts.

What's going on? Why is there a Nomu lookalike around?! Melissa thought, terribly worried. If it's as strong as the USJ’s Nomu, Gran Torino… no, the whole city is in danger.

Thinking about the city again, another connection formed in her head. The face of the class representative, who, despite the reassuring smile, hid that dark desire in his eyes.

«TENYAAAAA!!!»

A hero shouted a little further on, attracting Melissa's attention. Her eyes widened, horrified by the scene.

It was literally a battlefield. Amid the debris of what was supposed to be a plaza, Hosu's heroes tried to contain not one, but two Nomu. One resembled the USJ's, but much taller, completely eyeless, and wearing a pair of battered pants and shin guards. The other had pale skin, huge wings, and extremely sharp claws on his feet, while his face was made of a kind of gas mask fused to his head; even in his case, his brain was exposed, and his gaze was blank. The body was thin, but the muscles were well defined.

Some heroes were wounded, with severed limbs or legs pulped, while others had been hurled like bullets by the brute force of the black-skinned Nomu.

Impossible… what in the…

«Where the hell did you go, Tenya?!»

The hero who once again uttered Ida's name is known as Manual, recognisable by his costume consisting of a tight, long-sleeved blue-and-white shirt that fits into his orange gloves. He wears dark trousers, white boots and sports a distinctive helmet with a fish-like fin and a raised blue visor, behind which his black eyes can be seen.

«Get back, girl!» ordered a heroine, moving her to the side «Now we'll take care of pushing them away! You follow the police evacuation directives!»

«O-okay!»

Even though Melissa had responded instinctively, her mind was intent on understanding what she had just heard about Tenya. She knew him well enough to know he's not one to back down; in fact, he probably would have thrown himself headlong into the fight.

So, if he didn't escape… the Hero Killer! For some reason, Melissa's logical thread had reached that conclusion We are in Hosu, and these Nomu are clearly attracting the full attention of the city's heroes.

At that thought, Melissa turned and began to run, extracting from her memory every piece of information she knew about the Hero Killer. Despite the sound of battle, the roars of the Nomu, and the heroes' screams of pain and contempt, Melissa's brain began to sharpen and use Conservai in its most basic form. Her goal was to find traces of Ida. And if not Ida, then his target: the Hero Killer.

*****

On a skyscraper, perhaps a couple of kilometres away from the square where the heroes and Nomu were fighting, Izuku's armoured figure stood upright; his heavy cloak and the lock atop his helmet floated lazily in the wind.

"A Nomu attacked us."

He read the message Melissa sent and, with a simple blink, immediately put it aside.

He activated long-distance vision, being able to observe the clashes taking place in two distinct parts of the neighbourhood, neither too far away to go unnoticed nor too close to interfere with each other.

Gran Torino is excellently holding its own against that four-eyed Nomu. I don't know how much longer he can handle it alone, but it looks like Endeavor is getting closer to his position. He won't have any problems.

Under the helmet, Izuku's lips twisted into a slight smile of admiration and approval for the elderly hero, and he also began to feel a note of respect and appreciation for the elder's technique and warrior spirit.

But when his eyes fell on the clash in the square, his smile faded. He doesn't remember how he reacted to hero-villain clashes before being transported to the foot of the Golden Throne. Still, seeing past reactions since returning home, they often seemed like entertainment for civilians. After all, heroes fight and use their powers conspicuously, despite a foundation of martial training. But this is their weakness: they fight to incapacitate, not to kill or to survive. Disappointment dyed Izuku's eyes.

Emperor’s mercy... Izuku sighed, closing his eyes.

He took a step and fell. The building was at least fifteen stories high, and Izuku had let himself be caught in the arms of gravity. His weight only increased the speed of the fall.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, full of concentration, calculation, anger and murderous intent. He swung through the air and, with his free hand, grabbed a rod protruding from the skyscraper, brutally slowing his fall, just enough to lean against the wall and push himself with his feet. With an explosion of air shattering the glass, he appeared to fly horizontally and landed on the roof of the building opposite.

He started running again, with quick, decisive, and fluid steps, jumping from one building to another. In just 70 seconds, he had covered a kilometre and a half of road, and now that he was in the open field, with the destination in front of him, he sprinted at full speed.

18 seconds. In just 18 seconds, he covered the remaining 500 m separating him from the black Nomu, and when he faced his opponent, the Guardian of the Golden Throne did not hold back.

*****

The heroes were swearing and putting their training and experience to rest to suppress the creatures - no, the monsters in front of them. But the fight was getting too long, and more and more heroes were getting wounded and out of action. Even though they somehow managed to ward off the winged monster, the situation screamed despair from every point of view, but they are heroes, and it is precisely in the darkest despair that they are tasked with shining the brightest. But they were not the ones who dispelled that dark despair.

A golden lightning bolt. A giant in golden armour, wearing a flowing purple cloak, had stood before the black-skinned monster, a huge, heavy spear, its blade surrounded by deadly, furious lightning bolts, firm in its hands.

They saw the golden giant, but not his movements. No hero saw the strike. All they saw was as if suddenly someone had cut the scene with the horizontal slash of the spear, which was now pointing towards the side opposite to that of its departure. But it was an illusion.

Not with a cry of pain, but with a cry of pure terror and the roar of something being cut, typical of someone aware that his end has come, the black-skinned monster separated into eleven pieces, the head of which was still attached to his neck and shoulders. A second after the separation, almost as if the body had just realised it had been cut, the sound and vision of blood exploding from the cuts bathed not only the earth, but also the golden giant's armour.

The head hit the ground. Not even time to bounce, the spear blade had already penetrated the creature's exposed brain. Silence reigned for a clear second.

*BANG!*

A shot that sounded like a roar went off. The grey matter had exploded. In a dry motion, the blood on the blade fell to the ground. His helmet-modulated voice boomed, authoritarian and certain.

«Secure the perimeter.» the giant ordered «Gather the wounded and divide them into minor injuries and serious injuries. The five of you, form a group and begin the search for possible civilians; denomination Reach. The four of you, get on the still stable buildings and let us know as soon as you see the one with the wings; denomination Sentinel...»

No hero, although pride and conscience shouted at him, ordered them to refuse, to condemn that golden giant for the cruel and merciless act; their body and soul had no desire to disobey him and therefore obeyed without discussion.

Many of them remembered him, Izuku Midoriya, nicknamed the USJ’s Slayer, the Golden Giant.

In the future, witnesses to that clash described that scene as follows:

“That person wasn't a hero; he wasn't even human. I just saw it coming, and the second after, the Nomu was dead. A solitary but disciplined ferocity, a readiness that would act and react even before a God, a royal authority that cannot be disobeyed, and a reassuring compassion for those close to him. That can't be a hero. That was a lion devoted to the destruction of what threatens his protégés.”