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Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:

F/M

Fandoms:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)Multi-Fandom

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Action/AdventureAction & RomanceActionFluffComedyGrimdarkfight the grimdark!Gang ViolenceHeroes & HeroinesTsunderesMultiverseRed HerringsMistaken IdentityDiscriminationReferences to DrugsImplied/Referenced Child AbuseDarkCross-PostCompetent Parahuman Response Team | PRT

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English

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Published:2025-12-26Updated:2026-02-12Words:116,669Chapters:22/?Comments:51Kudos:117Bookmarks:32Hits:6,275

My World My Justice (WC)

Choloman

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Chapter Text

It should have been another mind-numbing day in Emily's life in the cursed city of Brockton Bay.

She hated her job, every single day asking the same questions over and over again to different people throughout the day.

'How may I help you?' or 'Would you like to make a deposit or withdrawal'

Then receive money or give money and say the same polite and robotic goodbye.

At least one jackass screamed in her face daily due to failed payments or declined credit cards. Today it had been a bearded man, spittle flying as he ranted about how the bank was stealing his money. Or there was the sobbing woman who came to cry at the counter, mascara running down her cheeks as she begged to forgive her debt as she would go homeless.

As if that would accomplish anything. Or that they thought that somehow she could do something, and she couldn't care less for their problems.

For a very long time, she had been wishing for something exciting to occur in her life, anything to break out of the mind-boggling boredom she felt every day. The monotony of counting bills, the endless beeping of the card reader, the fake smiles she plastered on her face.

And that was the stupidest thing she could have done.

Because she remembered very clearly an old saying: 'Be careful what you wish for'.

Her wish came to materialize in a bank robbery by the Azn Bad Boys. Of all the excitement she could have gotten, why did it have to be this?

They just used one of their news capes to collapse a wall with his fucking fists. Then they entered guns blazing, the gunfire and screams and the thud of bodies hitting the floor. The security personnel didn't stand a chance. Those who weren't killed surrendered immediately.

She was somehow lucky, if she could even call herself that, that she wasn't at the counter when everything happened. Her lunch break had just ended, and she was heading back to her station when chaos erupted. Instinct took over, and she quickly hid herself under a desk, heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.

Emily bit her long nails, a bad habit she thought she'd kicked years ago, and prayed, begged, for things to go back to how they were. The metallic taste filled her mouth as she bit too deep, drawing blood, but she barely cared.

Her job was no longer boring to her. In fact, it was a stable source of income affording her a relatively decent standard of living. She could pay her rent, buy groceries without constantly checking prices, even splurge on the occasional night out. And her manager, Sarah, despite being strict, was understanding, letting her take breaks on the rare occasions unruly clients came to her.

She even had free coffee. God, what she wouldn't give for a cup of that mediocre break room coffee right now, the scent of cheap beans and powdered creamer a comforting reminder of normalcy.

Why the fuck had she wished for something exciting to happen in her life?!

She didn't want to die! Not here, not like this, crouched under a desk in a cheap polyester uniform that always made her itch. There was so much she still wanted to do–travel, fall in love, maybe even work up the courage to go to the dentist.

"Oi!" A gruff voice cut through the chaos. "Help me look! One of 'em is missing."

Oh, no no no no no, please God, no.

She wouldn't even do anything or be stupid enough to call for help. Just please leave her be. She'd give them all the money they wanted, she'd even help them carry it out if that's what it took to survive.

But fate had other plans. Heavy footsteps approached, punctuated by the crash of desks being overturned. Emily clapped both hands over her mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to escape. Hot tears streamed down her face, smearing her mascara.

The footsteps drew nearer. Closer. Closer still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst. In her mind, she saw her life flashing before her eyes—not the exciting moments she'd longed for, but the quiet ones she'd taken for granted. Sunday brunches with her sister. Movie nights with her fatty cat curled in her lap. Even the mindless chatter of her coworkers now seemed precious.

Yet a thunderous explosion came from above that rocked the entire building.

"JUSTICE HAS ARRIVED!"

-Daniel, pending cape name-

A bank robbery always draws a circus. Gawkers with more curiosity than common sense crowd the edges of hastily erected police barricades, trying to get a better view. Journalists prowl around and yell their questions to the officers on the scene, hunting for that perfect snapshot to splash across tomorrow's front page with a sensational headline. Cops swarm the area, blocking off streets and forming barriers to prevent entry.

This means I can't enter through conventional means. Not that I'd want to – where's the fun in that?

"JUSTICE HAS ARRIVED!"

As I just crashed through the bank roof like a meteor. Concrete, steel and wood splinter beneath me, raining debris across the interior. Creating a choking cloud of dust erupts, transforming the bank's main lobby into a chaotic, blinding haze.

As soon as my feet touch the ground, I focus all my senses. The dust hasn't even settled, but I'm already mapping out the room. I count at least seven gunmen, their coughing and wheezing giving away their positions. But there's no sign of Muscular – the cape is probably in the vault, either cracking it open or already stuffing the money bags.

I don't waste a second and rush out, my feet barely touching the ground. I grab the closest gangster's head, feeling the stubble of his buzz cut against my palm, and hurl him against another. The second goon only has time for a startled yelp before his buddy slams into him, both crumpling to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

I pivot, driving my foot into the ground. The floor caves beneath the impact, spider-web cracks racing outward as chunks of debris scatter like shrapnel. In one fluid motion, I scoop up a handful of rubble and let fly.

"PEBBLES OF JUSTICE!"

Fuck this crippling affliction.

My makeshift projectiles whistle through the air, finding their marks with bullseye precision. Meaty thwacks echo as they connect with skulls in quick successions, buying me precious seconds as the remaining ABB members reel from the disorienting impact.

I've won a few more seconds, and I intend to use them. I tense my legs, feeling the surge of power coursing through my muscles. Then I leap into action again.

"JUSTICE RUSH!"

The remaining thugs barely have time to register my movement. I close the distance in a heartbeat, ramming the one in front of me with my shoulder. The impact sends him cartwheeling through the air. Without missing a beat, I twist my foot, executing a perfect turn that would make any ballerina jealous.

And my right hand finds a grip on another thug's collar. I can register the fear in his eyes as I lift him off his feet. Using his body like a battering ram, I throw him against the last criminal standing. The poor bastard can only watch with wide-eyed surprise as his buddy crashes into him without being able to make a sound.

I slowly rise to my feet and dust off my hands, letting a smile of satisfaction form in my face as I watch none of the perpetrators try to get up from the floor. Probably a broken bone or dislocated joints and torn muscles but they will live, I did hold back after all. If I hadn't, well... let's just say I could've easily turned a head into a finger painting.

I take another look around the bank lobby and since there are no hostages around then the gang must have locked them up in a room for easier control. Which in theory should be safe for the time being unless there is a guard stationed there then the situation might turn messy, because even if everyone knows that killing hostages essentially gives permission for people to kill you. But desperate people are stupid and will do stupid things.

Just to be sure, I pick up a small piece of debris from the floor. You never know when you might need to throw something.

And with that done, I sadly cannot control myself anymore and my body moves of its own accord to strike an overly dramatic victory pose. "VILLAINY IS NO MATCH AGAINST THE RIGHTEOUS!"

Fuck. That was definitely heard by everyone inside the building, especially the villain cape that's still missing if my entrance didn't alert him already.

However, my ear picks up a faint creaking noise, making me whip my head in that direction with a fist ready. Instead of a threat, I find a shaking middle-aged woman who's been crying, judging by the ruined makeup on her face.

My stance softens immediately, fist unclenching as I flash her what I hope is a reassuring grin and a thumbs up. "Fear not, citizen! The forces of justice have arrived to vanquish evil and restore peace to this fine establishment!"

Oh god…

"T-thank you," she stammers, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "The others…"

I nod reassuringly, stopping her from continuing. "Let my burning justice burn the coils of villainy. But for now you must leave with my allies of justice!"

Come on brain. Please have mercy on me.

The woman doesn't need to be told twice, quickly scurrying towards the exit on shaky legs.

Ignoring my cringe performance I actually take a time to think that there was an innocent hiding here all along. Honestly, I was lucky I crashed far from the desks, or I might have hurt her by accident and landed myself in hot water with the PRT. And my only option to avoid being birdcage would have been to join their stupid Wards program.

But with a hostage escaping to safety, it should be a signal for all forces outside to initiate the assault, or at least set the preparations for one. The PRT heroes will spearhead the attack and likely get all the credit, and I don't know if my mission will accept that as completion. I need to defeat Muscular first and fast.

I scan the room again, my vision picking up details I missed before. There is a pair of large broken double doors leading to a hallway. And that should lead me to where the vault is, and where our steroid abuser should be waiting.

So I walk towards my new destination and put an end to this show. But just as I take the first step to cross the threshold, a blur of movement catches my eye. Before I can react, a massive fist connects with my face, the impact sending my body flying across the room like a rag doll. I crash and roll, my fingers instinctively digging into the floor to halt my momentum.

Although I can tell that this sucker punch could have easily turned anyone else's head into a red mist. This asshole was going for the kill. No question about it.

Focusing on the broken entrance, I notice a mountain of a man ducking to cross the doorframe, revealing his full appearance. He's a walking tank of muscle, clad in cargo pants and a sleeveless black shirt that seems ready to burst at the seams. Black gloves cover hands the size of dinner plates, and heavy boots strapped with metal spikes complete the ensemble. But it's the mask that catches my eye - black and white, with tubes snaking from his back to his arms, chest, and inner thighs.

And those tubes? They're starting to glow an ominous green.

That man is NOT the Muscular I know.

I blink again and then rub my eyes, a ridiculous gesture given my supposedly perfect body. But I simply can't believe what I'm seeing. The result doesn't change: I am watching honest-to-god Bane walking towards me with murderous intent, each step causing crack on the floor.

Why the fuck is he here and calling himself Muscular?

I came to this place fully expecting to fight that dumb one-villain from My Hero Academia, not fucking Bane from the DC universe. And it doesn't even make any sense that Bane, someone clearly not Asian, is working for the ABB who is as racist as Empire 88. Better said, is he here because the company dropped him? Or his universe also merged with Worm?

"Well, well," Bane's gravelly voice cuts through my thoughts and starts cracking his knuckles. "It seems the PRT has sent a new toy for me to break."

I straighten up, pushing aside my confusion. First deal with this asshole and then focus again on this weird universal mix-up.

"I see the forces of evil have been hitting the diabolical gym! But fear not, for justice is always fit to serve!"

…

No commentary.

"Your future is pain," Bane announces, his muscles swelling to grotesque proportions as the glowing serum courses through his veins. He grows before my eyes, easily becoming a head taller than me. And I'm supposed to be the tall one here.

Even if there is still a lot of confusion going on in my head with this surprise, that won't stop me and I bump my fist together, flashing another grin at the displaced villain. "My future is bringing the mighty hammer of justice and integrity on evildoers like you!"

Dammit, brain. At least come up with better lines. I sound like a cheap knockoff.

Bane takes my declaration as his cue and lets out a guttural roar that shakes dust from the ceiling, charging towards me with his massive arms spread wide. He's probably aiming to grab me or tackle me to the ground. A classic move - overwhelm with raw power.

I won't wait for that to happen. Instead, I charge as well, meeting his attack head-on.

My hands shoot forward, intercepting his massive hands. Our palms collide with a thunderous clap, causing a small shockwave on the spot, and we lock into a fierce grip, struggling for dominance. Neither of us is willing to give an inch as the floor beneath our feet cracks under the pressure, spider-web fissures spreading outward.

But something's off. I expected a battle of strength, a test of my new powers. Instead, I soon realize that Bane is the one putting all the effort into this struggle. For me, it feels like I'm wrestling with a kid trying to push over his big brother.

Well, he is many tiers below me, so I guess I should have expected something like this. It kinda feels like cheating in some way, but I won't complain about this one sided fight. Sorry, not sorry, Bane. Looks like you're outclassed this time.

Seizing the moment, I twist his wrists sharply, causing the villain to grunt in pain, his focus wavering for just a second. And that's all I need to yank both arms, bridging his body closer, only to drive my knee into his solar plexus with bone-crushing force. The impact lifts him off his feet momentarily before he crashes to his knees, gasping for air.

I let go of my grip, which he quickly goes to clutch his chest and stomach with his now free hands. Not wanting to give him time to recover, I go for a double ear clap, my palms slamming against the sides of his head with a resounding smack. The force behind it should be enough to scramble his brains and knock him out cold.

But after counting the seconds, my plan doesn't seem to work, forcing me to escalate the situation a little more, taking one step back and rolling my right shoulder.

"RISING CREED!" The words burst from my mouth as I deliver a perfect uppercut to Muscular's jaw.

Huh, finally a new word instead of justice. Progress, I guess?

My punch sends Bane flying backwards, his massive form carving a path through the air until he crashes against the bank counter. The impact is spectacular, wood splintering and marble cracking as the structure collapses under his weight, sending up a cloud of dust and debris.

I keep my fists up, bouncing lightly on my feet as I wait for the villain to get up. Seconds tick by, feeling like hours as the dust begins to settle, revealing Bane's defeated form amidst the wreckage. He remains unmoving, the green glow of his Venom tubes flickering and fading as his body recedes back to its original size.

Well, I guess I won. It's almost anticlimactic, really.

"JUSTICE PREVAILS ONCE MORE!"

To whom am I even speaking? It's just me, unconscious ABB thugs, a knocked-out supervillain, and enough property damage to make an insurance adjuster weep.

It doesn't matter.

I move swiftly, gathering the gangsters and piling them together. But their weapons catch my eye. They look too complex and bulky to be standard issue. Tinkertech, no doubt. I crush them all in my hands, metal and circuitry crumbling like paper. Can't have them trying anything if they were to suddenly wake up.

Now for the hostages—

A deafening crack splits the air, followed by a light tap against my skull. I glance down to see a bullet bouncing harmlessly off the tile floor.

My eyes snap to the source. Finding another ABB thug crouched behind an overturned desk. He's frozen in shock, his jaw hanging open, probably wondering how I just shrugged off a direct headshot like it was a lovetap.

What to do? He's about as threatening as a kitten to me, but still.

A mischievous grin spreads across my face. Might as well have some fun.

I plant my hands on my hips, puffing out my chest, imitating those cartoonish strongmen. "FOOLISH VILLAIN! YOUR PUNY WEAPONS ARE NO MATCH FOR MY RIGHTEOUS MIGHT!"

The thug flinches as I jab an accusatory finger in his direction.

"SURRENDER NOW, EVILDOER! OR FACE THE FULL FORCE OF MY HEROIC FURY!"

The man's gun clatters to the floor as he thrusts his hands skyward. His trembling legs betray him, and he collapses onto his backside with a whimper. I cannot help but mentally laugh, watching a fully tattooed bald Asian dude act like a scared rat.

I cross my arms, nodding with exaggerated approval. "A WISE CHOICE, MISGUIDED CITIZEN! YOU HAVE TAKEN YOUR FIRST STEP ON THE SHINING PATH OF VIRTUE!"

God, I want to gag so hard. But that somehow does the trick and the Asian man's eyes roll back and faints.

A cacophony of boots and barking suddenly breaks the silence. My attention snaps to the entrances where PRT agents and SWAT officers pour into the building like a well-armed flood. They fan out with practiced precision, weapons and containment foam launchers at the ready, quickly establishing a perimeter in the debris-strewn lobby.

Well, the cavalry has arrived fashionably late, as always. Time to let the professionals handle the tedious parts—paperwork and hostage hand-holding.

However, from the sea of uniformed agents emerges a familiar armored figure. Armsmaster walks towards me with long but slow steps, his iconic halberd gripped tightly, every line of his body radiating disapproval. Great.

"Timely arrival, metal friend! With your help, justice will be double served!"

Armsmaster's jaw tightens visibly. "It's Armsmaster," he grinds out, "And this reckless vigilantism ends now. Your actions endangered civilians and caused excessive property damage."

I arch an eyebrow. So that's their game? Paint me as an out-of-control loose cannon, too dangerous to operate without the PRT's leash? Make joining the Protectorate seem like the only responsible choice?

That's really cute.

In response, I puff out my chest and thump it with a fist."Fear not, good Armsmaster! The shield of justice protects all innocents from harm!" I extend a hand towards him, my grin so wide it almost hurts. "Besides, I knew my valiant heroic comrades would arrive to witness justice's glorious triumph!"

Armsmaster doesn't even glance at my offered hand. His mouth sets into a thin, disapproving line as he glares at me from behind his visor. I can practically feel the waves of frustration rolling off him.

Eventually, Armsmaster lets out a weary sigh.

"We'll discuss this further," he finally says. "For now, stand down and let us secure the scene. That's an order."

An order, huh? I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, my body snaps into an exaggerated salute, my hand nearly smacking my forehead with its enthusiasm.

"Understandable friend Armsmaster! Your wisdom shines like a beacon in the night!"

Internally, I'm cringing so hard I might pull a muscle. But outwardly, I'm the very picture of an overeager hero, practically bouncing on my toes with barely contained 'excitement.'

Armsmaster opens his mouth, likely to deliver another stern rebuke, but thinks better of it. Then his lips press into an even thinner line, if that's possible. After a while, he turns away, speaking into his comm unit. "Secure the perimeter. I want a full sweep of the building."

The agents spring into action, apprehending everyone. For Bane/Muscular, they're extra cautious, carefully securing a tinkertech collar around his neck and wrists.

"I leave you to your duties then friend Armsmaster as the work of a hero never ends! I can feel my sense of injustice tingling."

Total bullshit, but whatever excuse to leave is a good one.

Armsmaster's head whips back towards me, his mouth opening to bark what's undoubtedly another dumb order. But just like yesterday, I pretend not to hear him and walk straight towards the exit. The SWAT officers blocking the way exchange nervous glances before getting out of my way. Their hands tremble slightly on their weapons, but they hold their rigid stance. Gotta admire that kind of nerve.

I step outside, and the world explodes into chaos. A barrage of camera flashes assaults my vision, and a wall of noise slams into me as journalists shout questions at each other. The police struggle to maintain the barrier, barely containing the surging mass of reporters.

Well, this is it. My big debut. Time to make a lasting impression.

And hopefully avoid any more cringe-worthy 'justice this or that' lines.

I plant my feet shoulder-width apart, a hand on my hips, summon my most commanding voice and raise a fist to the sky. "CITIZENS OF BROCKTON BAY! STAND TALL, FOR A NEW DEFENDER HAS RISEN IN YOUR TIME OF NEED!"

The crowd goes wild, cameras clicking like mad, questions flying even faster. It's not bad, but I can't help feeling I missed an opportunity. If I'm essentially this world's version of All Might, why not lean into it? And… borrow his famous phrases?

I stride towards the frenzied press, flashing my best heroic smile, showing off my perfect teeth, and waving to everyone equally so they get a good shot.

"What is your name?!"

That specific question cuts through the chaos, sharp and clear. I locked eyes with a middle-aged reporter, his microphone stretched out and struggling with the two officers trying to push him back.

I pause. Two days on Earth Bet, and I haven't even thought about a cape identity. Well I didn't have any time in the first place. But with universes merging, and no All Might in sight...

Time slows. The crowd's roar fades to a dull hum. And a realization dawned on me, making me smile in this moment of clarity.

"I AM TRUE MIGHT!" My voice booms, drowning out everything else. "THE LIVING EMBODIMENT OF JUSTICE AND DEFENDER OF THE INNOCENT!"

And the crowd goes wild.

-Max Anders, Kaiser-

Max was back in his car, making sure to lock the doors before letting out a long, frustrated groan. He dragged his hand across his face, feeling the tension in every muscle. The day had gone from promising to disastrous in a matter of minutes, and he could feel a migraine building behind his eyes.

Lung was either becoming more reckless or, more worryingly, more confident with each passing day. The influx of new capes into the ABB's ranks and the mercenaries flocking to Lung's banner painted a grim picture. If it weren't for the foreign heroes' timely intervention, the Bay would have already devolved into a war-zone. Max's jaw clenched at the thought, his jaw hurting from the pressure as he couldn't forget the outsider gangs eyeing the situation and ready to attack them and claim a portion of the Bay. The balance of power was shifting, and not in his favor.

From the large influx of capes, he was only able to recruit a handful of capes to the Empire ranks because, who could have imagined that even villains hate nazis? Shocking, mind blowing revelation.

The bank heist made strategic sense for the ABB's growing needs. What didn't sit right with Max was the timing—coinciding perfectly with his meeting with the branch manager and a potential investor. As he replayed the events in his mind, Max couldn't shake the suspicion that there was more at play than mere chance.

He allowed himself a small, sardonic smile at the initial thought. The investor had been eager, practically salivating over Medhall's financial projections for the next four years. Even as a front for money laundering, Medhall Corporation stood as a testament to his acumen. His leadership had transformed a front business into a genuinely successful enterprise—a fact that brought him no small measure of pride. Now, he wondered if the investor would back out, spooked by the day's events.

The moment the explosion had rocked the building, he'd immediately called for Fenja and Menja, counting on the twins to contain the chaos. Yet, coincidentally, the ABB had chosen that exact moment to push into Empire territory.

It wasn't a focused assault, but a multi-pronged offensive that forced their capes to spread thin. Their only rapid-response asset, Magik, was tied up by shuttling defenders between fronts. If she stopped her job in time of crisis only to help the twins to reach the bank first, then every thinker would make quick work of that information and expose his identity.

So the twins had been forced to come to his aid the old-fashioned way, leaving him exposed far longer than he was comfortable with.

Which was another coincidence that didn't sit well with him.

As if, maybe, just maybe, Lung somehow discovered his identity and planned this.

He quashed the thought almost as quickly as it formed. There were far more plausible explanations. Intelligence about high-value targets at the bank, perhaps, or information about a recent gold shipment. It could even be a deliberate break in the ABB's established patterns, designed to keep the other factions off-balance.

Too many plausible reasons to jump to the conclusion of a targeted attack on his persona. And yet...

What he hadn't expected—what no one could have predicted—was for a new cape to make his debut during this robbery and thoroughly defeat the entire group, including Muscular, within five minutes.

He opened his smartphone and saw the hot news popping up on the internet, the face of this cape being the highlight and perfectly showing his well-defined features, especially all his racial features. Blonde hair, chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes like his, a physique that towered well over six feet, possibly approaching seven, and perfect body musculature. Max's eyebrows rose slightly. This new cape was practically gift-wrapped for the Empire's spiel.

Max remembered the fuss from yesterday about the coming of the übermensch. It came from those low-ranking imbeciles yapping and celebrating on the PHO forums that the rabbit hero Mirko had been defeated by this new cape. At the time, he had dismissed it as idle chatter, not worth his attention.

He hadn't bothered to dig deeper, especially when much of the information vanished shortly after posting. But now, with the new guy's image plastered across every news outlet, it seemed the PRT's usual iron grip on the media narrative had slipped.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at the picture of this new independent on his phone.

"True Might, huh?"

Maybe he could use this to his advantage.

But first he needed to prepare a victory speech.

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Chapter 782 - 4