Darkness
Not the comforting kind that came with sleep but an oppressive void, suffocating and endless. It was the first thing he felt, pressing down on him like the weight of a thousand oceans. Then came the sound–muffled voices, distant yet urgent. They were arguing, shouting, pleading.
And then...pain.
A searing, unrelenting pain consumed every inch of him, like fire racing through his veins.
"Argh!" The scream tore from his throat, hoarse and raw, as if it hadn't been used in years. The sound jolted him awake, and his eyes snapped open to reveal a polished marble ceiling adorned with intricate carvings.
What the hell...?
Disoriented, he sat up too quickly, his head spinning from the effort. He was lying in an opulent bed, silk sheets cool and unfamiliar against his skin. Everything about the room screamed wealth and power—the towering canopy above him, the ornate furniture, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. This wasn't his room. This wasn't his life.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his movements sluggish yet brimming with an unfamiliar strength. As he staggered to his feet, his body felt... wrong. Heavy, powerful, alien. Glancing down, he froze.
A tailored black suit stretched over a tall, muscular frame, the fabric clinging to his form like a second skin. His hands were pale, veined, and he he could feel the blood pumping within...it sends shivers down his spine.
His gaze darted to a gilded mirror across the room. What he saw made his blood run cold.
"No... way," he whispered.
The reflection staring back wasn't his own. It was a face he knew all too well at this point: dark, mysterious, but handsome in a "daddy" kind of way. The healed, menacing visage of All For One, the main villain of My Hero Academia.
"What the hell?" he rasped, stumbling backward as if distance would make the truth less real. His mind raced. This has to be a dream. Did I die? Did I...Did I get fucking Isekai'd?!
The last thing he remembered was falling asleep after binge-reading fanfictions about his favorite series. Now, the polished floor beneath his feet, the weight of his body, and the searing pain from before told him one thing: this wasn't a dream. This was real.
"Fuck."