MHA: Ubiytsa Bogov - Slayer of Gods

The combat simulation began in an industrial zone designed to put Anya and Ivan at a disadvantage. The air was dry, with heat radiating from malfunctioning vents, and the ground was strewn with shattered debris that restricted movement. Above, towering robots patrolled the area, their metallic frames gleaming ominously.

The battlefield was eerily quiet as Ivan and Anya were briefed on the new generation of robots they would face. Designed with ruthless precision, these machines were tailored to counter their specific quirks.

For Anya, the robots were equipped with dehydration lasers that emitted intense heat to evaporate any water she generated, while electromagnetic pulses disrupted her healing abilities. High-speed blades ensured she couldn't easily stay on the defensive.

For Ivan, the machines carried corrosive acid sprayers and laser beams, bypassing his kinetic absorption and targeting his hardened scales. Their precision drills exploited the smallest gaps in his armor, while the terrain itself was destabilized to negate his mineral manipulation. The odds were stacked against them, and the air was thick with the tension of what lay ahead.

Ivan surveyed the area, his scars glinting under the harsh artificial lights. His deep voice cut through the silence. "We need a plan. These things are built to mess with us."

Anya stood a few steps away, her delicate frame dwarfed by his bulk. Her damp skin shimmered faintly, giving her an ethereal quality. She spoke quietly, her voice barely audible. "They're absorbing the moisture... I won't be able to generate enough water for long."

Ivan frowned, frustration clear in his expression. "Great. And they're packing laser beams, which means I can't absorb most of their attacks." He glanced at her, his voice softening slightly. "Got any ideas?"

Anya hesitated, then nodded. "The water tanks. We can break them open to flood the area. I can generate a stronger current if I have a source."

Ivan nodded, formulating a plan. "Alright. I'll handle the tanks and draw their attention. You focus on keeping us alive. If it gets too bad...heal me in time so I can retreat in one piece."

Ivan charged forward, his scales hardening as he activated his defensive quirk. Laser beams streaked toward him, but he dodged with surprising agility, closing the distance to the nearest water tank. He slammed his fists into the steel, his mineral manipulation breaking it open with a deafening crack. Water gushed out, pooling across the ground.

Anya raised her hands, her quirk activating. The water shimmered and surged upward, forming a defensive barrier that deflected a robot's acid spray. Another machine lunged at her with high-speed blades, but she ducked, her smaller frame allowing her to evade the attack.

"Stay back!" Ivan roared, launching a shockwave at the advancing robots. The force sent two of them crashing into a wall, but they quickly recovered, their systems designed to absorb kinetic impacts.

Anya focused on directing the water, creating slippery surfaces that caused the robots to lose balance. She sent a wave crashing into one, damaging its systems.

As they pushed forward, a robot armed with a precision drill targeted Anya, its weapon spinning rapidly as it lunged. She tried to shield herself, but the dehydrated air weakened her control over the water.

Ivan noticed the attack too late. "Anya, move!" he shouted, sprinting toward her.

The drill struck, but Ivan threw himself in the way, his hardened scales absorbing the impact. The force knocked him to the ground, blood seeping from a gap in his armor.

Anya gasped, her eyes wide. "Ivan!"

"I'm fine," he grunted, struggling to his feet. "Just... stick to the plan."

Determined, Anya summoned a stronger wave, using the remaining water to trap the robot and crush its limbs. Her hands trembled as she worked, but her focus remained unshaken.

With the water flooding the area, Ivan gained the upper hand. He used his mineral manipulation to create jagged spikes from the ground, impaling several robots. Anya supported him by continuously deflecting energy-based attacks with her water shield.

When the final robot fell, the pair stood amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily.

As silence settled over the battlefield, Anya approached Ivan, she concentrated as plants grew from her head, blooming their floating seeds towards Ivan's wounds to heal them.

Ivan stiffened but allowed her to work, the pain easing as her quirk took effect.

"Thanks." Anya said quietly, her cheeks tinged pink.

Ivan looked at her, surprised by her tone. "No big deal, you had my back too."

She hesitated, then gave a small, shy smile. "You are brave."

Ivan scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to respond. "Uh...You're not so bad yourself."

For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, the tension between them replaced by mutual respect.

Then the announcement signaled the end of the test. They had succeeded, just like team Yulia and Gervasii.

On the other hand, Aleksandr's test was much different from others'.

The Russian government, in a covert arrangement with the facility, began transporting imprisoned quirk-using criminals for experimental purposes. These were individuals deemed too dangerous or irredeemable for normal incarceration. The scientists had requested them to create real, unpredictable opponents for their subjects.

Robots had proven insufficient against Aleksandr's overwhelming abilities; human opponents with quirks, combat experience, and survival instincts were the logical next step to push him to his limits.

Aleksandr stood in the dimly lit briefing room, his sharp gaze fixed on the lead scientist. The man's expression was cold, calculated, as he gestured toward the observation window overlooking the arena.

"This time, you won't be facing robots," the scientist began, his voice devoid of emotion. "Your previous tests have proven them inefficient. You've outgrown them.", Dr Orlov explained.

Aleksandr raised an eyebrow with curiosity.

"Instead, your opponent will be a criminal-a quirk user. Dangerous. Resourceful. Someone who knows how to kill," the scientist continued. "Your task is simple: eliminate them. And if we observe the situation to become dangerous for you, we will interfere. This isn't just a test of your abilities. It's a test of your resolve. Do you understand?"

Aleksandr's eyes gleamed with quiet intensity.

"Understood."

Dr Orlov then moved on to the warning for his test subject:

"Before you commence, this is the brief overall information of the criminal you're about to face. Oleg Vasiliev, known as "The Butcher," was a towering figure with a brutal reputation in the Russian underworld. His quirk, Blood Forge, allowed him to manipulate his own blood into hardened weapons-blades, spears, or shields-making him a deadly opponent in close combat. A former enforcer for a notorious crime syndicate, Oleg was arrested after slaughtering an entire rival gang in a single night. A very ruthless killer with a lot of real life combat experience. Good luck."

The guards took off Aleksandr's quirk suppressing collar as he entered the test arena.

The simulated battleground was a maze of industrial ruins: abandoned factories, rusted pipes, and crumbling walls. Aleksandr stepped into the arena, his movements calm and deliberate.

Across the field, Oleg "The Butcher" Vasiliev stood like a mountain of muscle and menace. His scarred face twisted into a sneer as he eyed the teenager who was meant to kill him.

"So these half-witted dog-fuckers sent a primary school brat to kill "The Butcher"????!!" Oleg roared in anger, his voice coarse and dripping with disdain. "These bitches are for sure more "high" than drug addicts in my old gang haha ."

Aleksandr said nothing, his eyes scanning Oleg's stance and subtle movements. Beneath his calm exterior, he activated his telepathy, reaching into Oleg's chaotic thoughts, fishing for useful fragments of memory and knowledge.

Oleg wasted no time. He sliced his palm open with a sharp fingernail, blood dripping onto the ground. With a flick of his wrist, the blood hardened into a crimson blade, jagged and lethal. He lunged at Aleksandr with surprising speed for someone his size.

Oleg roared , his blood blade cutting through the air. Aleksandr raised a hand, drawing shards of rusted metal from the ground with his magnetism. The debris formed a rotating shield that deflected the blade, sending sparks flying.

Aleksandr maintained his defensive stance, pulling metal fragments into a barrier that shifted with Oleg's attacks. As he deflected blow after blow, his telepathy latched onto snippets of Oleg's memories-flashes of city skylines, dark alleys, and whispered deals in shadowy corners.

Oleg's frustration grew as Aleksandr continued to evade his strikes. "I will rip you into halves when I catch you, little bitch!" He cursed, swinging his blade in a wide arc. Aleksandr ducked and sent a scattering pile of jagged metal toward Oleg.

The shards clattered against Oleg's skin, bleeding him slightly. He laughed darkly, stepping through the debris. "You think some rusty nails gonna stop me , you fucking cunt?! I've killed bastards thrice your size!"

Aleksandr remained silent, using the opportunity to dig deeper into Oleg's mind. He uncovered fragmented images of bustling markets, crowded streets, and a life outside the facility-glimpses of freedom that Aleksandr had never experienced.

The fight stretched on for more than 5 minutes, longer than the scientists had anticipated. Oleg was growing visibly frustrated, his movements sloppier but no less dangerous.

"Sissy coward brat!! Why don't you hit back?!" Oleg shouted, his voice echoing in the ruins.

Aleksandr remained silent, his focus unwavering. He threw more debris into Oleg's path, forcing him to waste energy hacking through it whilst forming numerous metal shields floating around his body for protection. In addition, Aleksandr created a metal platform to stand on as he constantly lifted it to the air so that he could float midair, avoiding Oleg's close combat range with an effortless fashion.

Each second gave Aleksandr more time to shift through Oleg's memories, piecing together a picture of the outside world: criminal syndicates, corrupt officials, and the law enforcement agencies trying to hold it all together.

However, the process drained Aleksandr's physical and mental energy noticeably as well. As he finally concluded that he had extracted just enough knowledge from the criminal's mind, he decided to end this so-called "fight".

But then, for a moment, the arena seemed to blur around him, echoes of Oleg's taunts fading into the background. Aleksandr's mind raced, grappling with the weight of the choice before him.

'This isn't like other training simulations. This is not a robot. He is a person. Breathing, Living.

His life is in my hands. If I kill him, there will be no way of turning back. I will inevitably accept myself as a nigh successfully weaponized product of these government scums.

And of course, it will never be enough for them. There will be more people like him to be sent in front of me as I keep slaughtering them until every piece of humanity has been carved away from me.'

But then, the harsh reality of his situation slammed into him like a tidal wave.

'If I don't kill him, he'll kill me instead. And if I fail this test, the scientists will find another way to force me to comply. It simply cannot have a fair scenario for both me and him.

What more can I expect? This world never has the indication for the delusional concept of fairness. Fairness is a fragile fantasy whispered by the naive minds to brainwash themselves into creating a false sense of worldview in their separate society.

The real world…indicates who survived…and who couldn't.'

Oleg's laughter cut through Aleksandr's thoughts, harsh and grating. "What's the matter, kid? Have you done shitting yourself upthere—

The criminal was interrupted immediately as numerous shards of sharp metals shooting from all directions pierced his body. He tried to jump and run away with his last strength, only to get his leg caught by a whip made of metal scraps.

Aleksandr controlled the whip to pull Oleg close to him as he manipulated the metals around his body to make him land slowly to the ground, confronting the criminal.

Oleg cursed as he tried to form a blood blade to cut off the whip, but before he could do anything, broken metal water pipes controlled by Aleksandr reached him and curled around both his arms like snakes, rendering him completely immobile.

Aleksandr used his magnetism to shape metallic objects, shards into a set of spears on his right side and a giant sword on his left. With a simple gesture of his, the spears instantly launched at Oleg, penetrating his body like a kebab, but Aleksandr intentionally aimed at non-instantly fatal parts such as arms, legs, belly as he wanted to toy with the criminal a little bit more.

Oleg bled out uncontrollably, the criminal couldn't even get a chance to scream his pain out due to Aleksandr's relentless attacks. He took a deep breath, using the last piece of his will to form a surprise blood spike out of his mouth shooting at Aleksandr's head.

Unfortunately for Oleg, every decision, every fleeting thought, and every desperate action was laid bare to Aleksandr's telepathy, as though the criminal's mind were an open book. Aleksandr saw the futile last effort before it even materialized—a final, desperate attempt to end the fight. Calmly, he anticipated the blood spike hurtling toward his head and decided to test his telekinesis, even though it was not his strongest asset.

With a focused effort, Aleksandr used his telekinesis to subtly shift the trajectory of the blood spike, deflecting it just enough to miss its mark. At the same time, he manipulated the metallic sword, swiftly guiding it to sever the blood spike mid-flight, neutralizing the threat in an instant.

It was a calculated and daring maneuver. He could have simply relied on the sturdy metal shields he had at his disposal, a safer and more reliable choice. But Aleksandr wasn't content with playing it safe for his entire life. He had confidence in his abilities, even those less developed, and was determined to refine every weapon in his arsenal to perfection.

"No more barking like a dog huh?" Aleksandr's voice cut through the still air, cold and devoid of emotion. It was the first time he had spoken during the entire battle, and his words carried no malice nor taunting—only an eerie detachment.

He approached the dying Oleg slowly, his steps deliberate, unhurried. The criminal, battered and broken, could only look up at Aleksandr with wide, terrified eyes. But as Aleksandr closed the distance, Oleg's expression shifted. Slowly, he shut his eyes, resigning himself to the inevitable.

There was no hatred in Aleksandr's gaze, no sense of triumph or pride. The victory held no meaning beyond its necessity. He didn't feel the arrogance, nor the satisfaction of domination. There was only the faintest flicker of interest in the information he had learned from Oleg's mind—an acknowledgment of its utility—and the grim acceptance that this man's death was merely another step in his unrelenting march toward survival.

As Aleksandr raised the metallic sword above Oleg, his thoughts lingered. A strange curiosity tugged at him. What does a man think about in his final moments? Aleksandr hesitated, just for a second, before delving into Oleg's mind one last time.

What he found wasn't bitterness, anger, or even regret. It was love. Memories of a family—the faces of a wife and children, laughter shared over meals, the warmth of simpler times. Oleg's final thoughts were a desperate, unspoken plea for the people he loved, a fleeting snapshot of humanity before the void claimed him.

Aleksandr's grip on the sword tightened. His expression remained stoic, yet an imperceptible shadow passed over his eyes.

'So…it's your family, then.'

He mused silently, his inner voice quiet and distant.

"W-what... did... you say?" Oleg's voice was barely a whisper, rasping with pain as his breaths grew shallow. His eyes flickered toward Aleksandr, wide with disbelief, his mouth struggling to form the words.

"What?" Aleksandr, equally taken aback, paused in his stride, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

"My… family—

*SHWICK!*

The clean swing of the blade severed Oleg's head from his body with brutal precision, sending the lifeless head tumbling to the ground, rolling with a sickening thud.

For a long moment, Aleksandr stood frozen, staring at the severed head. His heart thundered in his chest, a knot of disbelief forming in his stomach as his mind scrambled to make sense of what had just happened.

He hadn't spoken. He hadn't uttered a single word, yet Oleg... Oleg had somehow reacted to something Aleksandr never said. His mouth went dry.

'...I didn't say anything outloud. HOW?!'

The silence felt suffocating, almost too thick to breathe through, and the answer gnawed at him like a bitter taste in his mouth. How had Oleg known? How had he heard what Aleksandr had just thought?