CHEAK OUT MY NEW FANFIC Black Clover: Luminaris Rex!!!!
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The city of Hosu felt different at night. From the rooftop of a tall office building, the usual urban glow was polluted by an undercurrent of tension. It was as if the city was holding its breath. Akaza stood beside Hawks, the cool night air ruffling his long hair. Below them, the streets were a network of light and shadow, a perfect hunting ground.
"So, kid," Hawks began, his tone light and conversational as he leaned against the rooftop ledge, his massive red wings folded behind him. "First real mission. You nervous?"
"No," Akaza replied simply, his eyes scanning the alleyways below.
Hawks chuckled, looking at Akaza's serious expression. "Straight to the point. I like that. Most kids your age would be trying to act tough or freaking out. You're just… calm. It's kinda creepy, you know?"
Akaza didn't respond, he kept his focus. Hawks sighed, pushing off the ledge. "Look, I get it. You're the big shot from the Sports Festival, Nezu's secret weapon. But this isn't a tournament. Stain isn't playing for points. What's your reason for being here? Why do this kind of dirty work?"
Akaza was silent for a long moment, the sounds of the city filling the space between them. "Because it needs to be done," he finally said, his voice low. "There are people who do bad things. They don't deserve a trial. They don't deserve a second chance. They just need to be removed. The world is simpler that way." The memorise of his previous life still freash in his mind.
The answer was cold, pragmatic, and devoid of any heroic idealism. Hawks' lazy grin faltered for a fraction of a second. He saw a flash of something in the kid's dark eyes. Not malice, but a profound, weary certainty that was far too old for his face.
"Fair enough," Hawks said, his tone shifting slightly, a newfound respect in his voice. He clapped his hands together. "Well, no use standing around. Time to get to work."
He closed his eyes, and a single, crimson feather detached from his wing, floating down into the city below. Then another, and another. Soon, a silent, swirling cascade of hundreds of red feathers descended, scattering throughout the district. They sliced through the silent night, landing in dark alleys, on fire escapes, and near sewer grates, invisible to the average passerby.
"My feathers can pick up vibrations, even the faintest sounds," Hawks explained, his eyes still closed. "I'm having them listen for key sounds. Something like a blade being drawn, a struggle, Stain's unhinged speeches about 'fakes.' We'll should find him soon enough."
They waited in silence, a master and an apprentice in a craft that had no name. Hours passed. The city's pulse slowed as it drifted deeper into the night. Then, Hawks' eyes snapped open.
"Got him," he said, his voice sharp. "He's cornered another pro in an alleyway three blocks east of here. Let's move. Try to keep up."
With a single, powerful beat of his wings, Hawks launched himself into the air. Akaza didn't need to be told twice. He pushed off the roof, using Geppo to kick off the air, easily keeping pace with the Number Three Hero as they soared over the sleeping city.
They landed silently on a rooftop overlooking a narrow, garbage filled alley. Below, the scene was exactly as Hawks had described. The hero Native was pinned to the ground, a blade through his shoulder. And standing over him, katana held high, was the Hero Killer: Stain.
"You are a fake," Stain rasped, his voice a low, guttural snarl. "You heroes are all the same. Leeches, clinging to the ideals of true heroes like All Might for your own fame and fortune. You must be purged."
He raised his blade for a final strike.
"You know, for a guy who thinks he's so enlightened, you talk a lot of nonsense."
Stain froze, his head snapping up. Akaza dropped from the rooftop, landing softly in the alley entrance, his posture relaxed but ready. Hawks remained on the roof, a silent observer.
Stain's wild eyes fixed on Akaza. "Another fake, drawn by the scent of battle. You wear the costume, but you lack the conviction of a true hero."
"And what would you know about being a hero?" Akaza asked, his voice dripping with disdain. He took a slow step forward, his gauntlets glinting in the dim light. "You're just a murderer with a god complex. You think killing a few C-listers makes you a savior? You think this… crusade of yours has any real meaning?"
"I am cleansing this society!" Stain shrieked, his body tensing like a coiled snake. "I am weeding out the unworthy so that a new age of true heroism can be born!"
Akaza laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. It was cold and mocking. "Shut the fuck up, you delusional fuck. You're not cleansing anything. You're just a broken man who couldn't make it as a hero, so now you throw a tantrum and kill the people who could. You're not a purger; you're a failure. Grow up."
The insult hit its mark. With an inhuman roar of fury, Stain launched himself at Akaza, his katana slicing through the air.
Akaza didn't even flinch. He activated Compass Needle, the blue snowflake pattern flaring to life on the ground beneath him. Stain's movements, while incredibly fast to a normal person, were perfectly clear to him. He met the katana not with his gauntlets, but with an open palm, using Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist to redirect the blade, sending Stain stumbling past him.
Stain recovered instantly, spinning and lashing out with a knife, aiming for a shallow cut to draw blood. Akaza simply used Soru, vanishing and reappearing behind him. He didn't attack. He just watched.
The fight, if it could be called that, was a display of absolute domination. Stain threw everything he had at Akaza knives, daggers, his jagged sword. Every attack was either effortlessly redirected or completely evaded. Akaza was untouchable, a ghost flowing around the Hero Killer's frantic assault. Stain was sweating, panting, his frustration and rage growing with every missed strike.
Finally, seeing an opening, Akaza decided to end it. As Stain lunged with his katana, Akaza didn't redirect. He met the blade with his gauntlet-covered fist.
CLANG!
The sound of shattering metal echoed through the alley as Stain's katana broke into pieces. The Hero Killer stared in shock at the hilt in his hand. In that moment of disbelief, Akaza's other fist shot forward, a single, powerful punch to the gut that lifted Stain off his feet and sent him crashing into the brick wall at the end of the alley.
Stain collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood, his body broken. He struggled to push himself up, but his limbs wouldn't obey. He was defeated, utterly and completely. He looked up at Akaza, who stood over him, his black eyes devoid of any emotion.
"It's over," Akaza said, his voice quiet. "Goodbye, Stain. I'll give you a painless death."
He placed two fingers on Stain's chest, right over his heart. Destructive Death: Twin Impact. A small, contained pulse of shockwave energy shot from his fingertips, directly into the Hero Killer's heart, stopping it instantly. Chizome Akaguro's eyes went wide for a final, fleeting second, and then he fell silent, his reign of terror ended.
Hawks landed softly behind Akaza, his usual grin absent. He looked at the body, then at the student.
"You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice serious.
Akaza turned, his expression as calm as it had been at the start. "I'm fine."
Hawks stared at him, truly seeing him for the first time. There was no remorse, no hesitation, no trauma. Just the quiet efficiency of a job completed. He'd seen veteran heroes, black-ops agents, who couldn't handle a kill with this much composure. He felt a mix of awe and a slight chill. "You did good," he said, and he meant it. "You're a natural at this."
A mutual respect, born in the shadows of a dirty alley, formed between them.
Akaza looked down at Stain's body. "What now?"
The question broke the tension. Hawks' easygoing demeanor returned. "Right. The cleanup." He pulled out a specialized burner phone. "Yo," he said into the device. "It's me. The job in Hosu is done. Send the crew. Usual spot." He hung up. "They'll be here in ten. They'll make sure he just… disappears. No body, no evidence, no martyr."
They waited. Soon, a nondescript van pulled into the alley. A team of quiet professionals in plain clothes emerged, efficiently and silently bagging the body and cleaning the scene. Within minutes, it was as if nothing had ever happened.
They flew back to U.A. under the cover of darkness, landing outside Nezu's office. They explained everything. Nezu listened, his paws steepled, a look of immense satisfaction on his face.
"Excellent work, Asura," he praised. "You exceeded all my expectations. The threat of the Hero Killer is neutralized, and society is safer for it. A perfect, clean operation."
He then turned to Hawks. "For the remainder of the internship week, Asura will be in your care. Show him the normal daytime hero stuff. It will be good for his public image. Unless, of course, another… special mission arises."
"Got it, boss," Hawks said with a lazy salute.
With that, they were dismissed. As they walked down the empty, moonlit halls of U.A., a comfortable silence settled between them. Akaza looked at the winged hero beside him. Hawks was a man who played the part of a carefree celebrity, but underneath, he was a soldier, a killer, someone who understood the necessity of dirty work. Someone who carried a heavy burden with a smile. In that moment, Akaza felt a strange sense of kinship, a connection he hadn't felt with anyone besides his family. It felt, surprisingly, like he was walking with a brother.
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