MHA: Ubiytsa Bogov - Slayer of Gods

The next phase of the program began with a stark change in routine. Aleksandr and the others—Yulia, Ivan, Anya, and Gervasii—were escorted into a new wing of the facility, one that felt eerily clinical.

The Russian government, in collaboration with the facility's scientists, had enlisted top-tier educators, professors, and specialists to teach these children everything from mathematics to international politics.

The children were escorted into a large classroom. It was sparsely decorated, with gray walls and a single row of reinforced desks. Mounted cameras tracked every movement. At each seat, a professor waited, books and tools in hand. The atmosphere was suffocatingly professional, devoid of the joys of typical normal school life meant for children.

Before class began, guards approached the children with restraint collars—special devices designed to nullify their quirks. Each collar was sleek and metallic, emitting a faint hum as it latched onto their necks. These restraints were based on the quirk of a man whose life had been taken by the facility's experiments.

The professors began the lessons immediately.

First, they tackled general education: mathematics, science, and history.

Mathematics to sharpen problem-solving and precision.

Advanced physics, chemistry, biology to provide insight into the mechanics of the world, including explosives and structural vulnerabilities.

History to teach them patterns of warfare, revolutions, and the rise and fall of nations.

Aleksandr absorbed every bit of information like a sponge, his young mind racing to connect dots and understand the bigger picture. Yulia, meanwhile, excelled in critical thinking exercises, often challenging the professors with questions. Ivan struggled with the theoretical lessons but showed a surprising knack for problem-solving. Anya was quiet but diligent, while Gervasii sat back, seemingly disinterested, though his sharp answers revealed he was paying attention.

After an hour, the restraints' hums ceased, signaling their deactivation. Guards entered the classroom, rifles slung across their chests, and ordered the children to step outside. Each child complied, filing into the hallway, where fresh restraints were secured around their necks. The guards moved quickly, not trusting the children to remain quirkless for even a moment longer than necessary.

The second session delved into geopolitics and the Pro Hero society. The professors displayed holographic maps of the world, pointing out countries, capitals, and major figures.

"Star and Stripe," one professor said, gesturing to an image of the renowned American Pro Hero. "The strongest hero in the United States. Known for her quirk, New Order, which allows her to impose new physical rules on objects or people."

Another professor displayed a video of All Might saving a group of civilians. "This is All Might. Japan's Number One Hero and the so-called 'Symbol of Peace.' His power and influence are unmatched globally."

The children watched intently. The professors emphasized the global nature of quirks, how some countries sought to monopolize power while others aimed for collaboration.

After 5 hours of morning lessons, the monotone voice of the intercom echoed through the sterile classroom. "Attention, subjects. The first session of today's education program is now complete. Proceed to the cafeteria for your designated lunch break." The professor, standing at his podium, closed the hologram with a wave of his hand and glanced at the children. "Class dismissed. Remember to review what we covered—history is the foundation of strategy." Without waiting for a response, he turned and exited through a side door.

Moments later, the classroom door slid open, and the guards entered. Their stoic faces and firm stances left no room for negotiation as they motioned for the five children to stand. The cold restraints around their necks clicked and powered down, leaving a brief moment of discomfort before the guards secured replacements. Flanked by the guards, the children were led through the winding halls to the cafeteria.

The group settled into their usual seats at the cafeteria, trays of bland, nutrient-dense food in front of them. While other 4 sat close together, Gervasii chose a spot at the farthest end of the table, his expression closed off as he poked at his food in silence.

It was Yulia who broke the silence, as always. She crossed her arms and leaned forward, her piercing gaze sweeping over the others. "These stupid collars, they're not just safety measures. They're another way to remind us who's in charge. Like we'd forget."

Ivan, cutting a piece of his synthetic protein bar with surgical precision, responded calmly, "They're efficient, though. Nullifying quirks for exactly an hour, then reapplying them like clockwork.

It's a message. They're telling us that even with our quirks, we're vulnerable. That no matter how powerful we think we are, they have the upper hand."

Yulia scoffed, stabbing her fork into her tray. "Let me tell you this, if I ever meet the person who designed these annoying garbage , they're getting a piece of of my hair, right through their throat as I inject magma into their bodies."

Ivan smirked faintly but shook his head. "They'd probably just turn it against you. Whoever they are, they're not stupid. They've thought of every angle."

Yulia, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Another meaningful lecture has been delivered to this dumb girl, thanks a lot Mr Serious.".

Aleksandr leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "Today's lessons weren't just about history—they were about understanding how the world works. The politics, the players, the power structures. It's all relevant.

They're giving us the tools to survive out there. To blend in, manipulate, infiltrate, sabotage. They're not just training soldiers. They're training ghosts."

Yulia narrowed her eyes, tapping her fingers on the table. "Or just pawns in general…..But pawns can become queens if they play their moves right."

Aleksandr agreed: "True. But only if they don't get caught first."

"Anyway, what do you guys think about the heroes they talked about today? All Might, Star and Stripe, Endeavor. The so-called symbols of peace and justice. Sounds like a load of crap to me.", Yulia changed the subject.

Ivan shrugged, chewing methodically before answering. "They're powerful. That much is obvious. All Might, in particular—he's not just strong; he's a symbol. People believe in him, and that belief gives him even more power. He's more dangerous because of what he represents than his actual strength."

Aleksandr, ever analytical, chimed in. "Symbols are tools, just like quirks. They're used to maintain order, control society, and keep people in line. Heroes such as All Might, may genuinely believe they are helping, but in the end, they are parts of a system specifically designed to make profits out of people who believe in it while keeping others like us suppressed."

Yulia rolled her eyes, twirling a strand of her auburn hair around her finger. "Yeah, yeah, we're going to be made into 'the villains' in their story, 'how unfortunate'. "

Ivan responded: "The Pro Hero Society thrives on the idea of 'good versus evil.' They need villains to justify their existence. If there were no villains, heroes would just be people with quirks like anyone else. Such ideas created longterm peaceful era with its most important benefit of securing trust and support from the people to an extent that they have faith in their idolized Heroes more than their countries' leaders."

Yulia nodded, her tone skeptical. "That's the point, though, isn't it? People worship them as if they are omnipotent Gods. All Might doesn't even need to be around, and people feel safe just because they believe he's out there somewhere.

Such blind love and dependence of a population for a single individual. Ridiculous, honestly."

Aleksandr tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze focused on Yulia. "It's not ridiculous. It's calculated. A figure like him controls fear. If people trust the Pro Heroes, they're less likely to rebel, less likely to question authority. That stability benefits everyone, or at least the ones in power."

"Exactly!" Yulia tapped the table with her finger for emphasis. "It's all a facade. They're not protecting people for selfless reasons; they're protecting the system. The same system that probably turns a blind eye to stuff like this." She gestured around the cafeteria, her voice dripping with venom.

Ivan's expression darkened. "Do you think they know? About places like this?"

"Of course they do," Aleksandr said calmly. "Maybe not the specifics, maybe not our exact situation, but they have to know experiments like ours exist, or other crime cases with the similar complexity and danger levels. They just choose not to act unless it directly threatens their system or aligns with their priorities. It's all about calculation."

He raised a hand, gesturing as he spoke. "Take their response, for instance—it depends on their assessment. If the threat is significant enough to destabilize the system, they'll act immediately. That's the worst-case scenario, the one where the system demands the heroes' full compliance under their contracts.

"Then there's the second possibility: if intervening could bring them fame or fortune. A 'high-profile' rescue or a victory over villains that earns them praise and profit."

His voice turned colder, tinged with disdain. "And if it's neither of those? They would ignore it. Too busy smiling for the cameras, signing autographs, securing commercial contracts, or indulging in whatever other money-making schemes they've tied themselves to—all the things that professor so smugly explained in today's lecture about capitalism."

Aleksandr's gaze swept over the group, the weight of his words lingering in the tense silence that followed.

Yulia's voice lowered, almost conspiratorial. "Do you think any of them started out differently? Like, maybe they really did want to save people but got… corrupted by the fame and the politics?"

"Possibly," Aleksandr replied. "But power changes people. Even if they start with good intentions, the system molds them to fit its needs. And those who don't fit…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Ivan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What about us? If we ever… you know, got out of here. Do you think we could become like them? Heroes?"

Yulia scoffed. "Heroes? Us? Don't be stupid, Ivan. We're weapons, not saviors. Even if we wanted to, no one would ever see us as anything other than what they've made us."

Ivan straightened, his expression firm. "Maybe that's how you see it, Yulia, but I don't think it's that simple. Look at those heroes we saw in the lecture today—All Might, Star and Stripe, even the others. They didn't start as anything special, right? They worked their way up. What if… what if we could do the same? ....What if we escaped and became something more than what they're trying to make us?"

Yulia rolled her eyes, her tone sharp. "You think those shiny smiles and grand speeches mean anything? They're propaganda, Ivan. They're symbols, not people. And even if we escaped, do you really think anyone would welcome us? We're experiments. Weapons. We're not the kind of 'quirk users' the world wants."

Ivan leaned forward, his voice rising slightly in frustration. "And what if someone like All Might would come here, figure out what's happening, and save us? Isn't that what heroes are supposed to do?"

Yulia's laugh was bitter. "Wake up, you oversized naive baby. Heroes don't come unless there's something in it for them. Aleksandr said it himself—they act when the system demands it, or when they see a chance to boost their fame. No one's coming for us because no one cares."

Ivan clenched his fists, his voice tinged with both anger and hope. "There is no exact proof that your arguments are totally accurate.

Not all of them are like that. Maybe some are selfish, but there have to be real heroes out there—people who would do the right thing just because it's the right thing."

Yulia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "You're dreaming, Ivan. And dreams don't survive in places like this. The sooner you realize that, the better."

Ivan didn't back down." No, I will survive. But not because I'm forced to follow these lab coat scums!!"

"I survive so that I can keep dreaming. Because if I don't, what's the point? If we give up so easily and accept to become just what they say we are—tools, weapons—then we're already lost causes. But if there's even the smallest chance we could be more… I'm going to believe in that."

He said as he finished his lunch first and stood up, walking back to his room, followed by escorting guards. Much to Yulia's surprise.

Aleksandr, who had been quietly listening, glanced between the two but remained expressionless. He didn't speak, letting the argument hang in the air, each word a reflection of the desperate hopes and bitter realities they all wrestled with.

Yulia let out a sigh, "Haizz…..I shouldn't have said and acted like that to him. He seemed to be a nice guy…especially when he intervened between me and Gervasii.".

"Or perhaps you are just exceptionally good at getting under others' skins.", Aleksandr replied, his tone so dry it was hard to tell if he was joking.

"....Was that a joke?!", Yulia glared at him.

"Does it make you feel more insulted if I say that was an honest opinion of mine?", Aleksandr asked, his calm expression unchanging.

"First, yes it does. Fuck you, Aleksandr."

Yulia shot back, a hint of playful irritation in her tone. She leaned back in her chair, smirking slightly

"Second, you are quite talkative for today aren't you?", Yulia pointed out what she noticed.

Aleksandr shrugged, his voice casual but deliberate. "Believe it or not, I found today's lectures quite entertaining. It's the first time I've been exposed to modern knowledge about the outside world. They prohibit electrical devices in my room, you know."

What he didn't admit was the real reason behind his unusual engagement: the quirk-suppressing collar around his neck. With his mental abilities muted, he couldn't focus on reading minds like he normally did—a task that demanded constant concentration. For once, his mind wasn't split between others' thoughts and his own, allowing him to talk more easily.

Yulia raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Entertaining, huh? I didn't think you could be entertained by anything."