MHA: Ubiytsa Bogov - Slayer of Gods

Aleksandr woke to the suffocating sensation of immobility. Every inch of his body was bound, his limbs restrained by an intricate network of reinforced tungsten chains interwoven with polymer fibers. He got tied on a reinforced concrete slab that brought up diagonally, the cold surface biting into his skin. A heavy collar wrapped around his neck, connected to the chains, ensuring even his head couldn't move.

His enhanced body strained against the bindings instinctively, but they held firm. He felt like a caged animal, completely at the mercy of his captors. The ache from his previous outburst lingered in his muscles, and his hands and feet throbbed from the injuries he'd inflicted on himself.

The room was silent, but not his mind.

'I can't believe they let this happen.'

'That son of a bitch is a monster. What if he wakes up again?'

'It's not worth the risk stupid dickheads in science department! Just kill him before it's too late!'

'Cyka blyat! Maybe I should reconsider giving up this god forsaken job!!"

The voices returned, faint but relentless. Aleksandr winced from uncontrollably receiving thoughts of the guards , shutting his eyes tightly as if that could block them out.

'Those voices again…' he thought. 'But they weren't as overwhelming as last night. I can only hear adult voices coming from the guards right now.'

The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a reel on loop, every detail etched into his memory.

The voices. The emotions. The overwhelming storm inside his head.

'This wasn't an auditory hallucination,' Aleksandr thought, his sharp mind dissecting the experience. 'It wasn't like hearing sounds in the traditional sense. It was… something else.'

He replayed the sequence methodically. The pressure in his head had started subtly, like an ache building behind his eyes. Then it exploded—an inundation of thoughts, not his own, pouring into his consciousness. He hadn't just heard words; he had felt them—emotions interwoven with fragments of thought, each one vivid and distinct.

'The guards' fear… the other children's despair… I didn't just perceive their words. I experienced their pain, their anger, their helplessness.'

The realization struck him like a bolt. 'Empathy... but not entirely. These were specific. These thoughts belonged to individuals. They weren't random.'

He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing to calm the chaos inside. He reached for his eidetic memory, analyzing some knowledge from his past training and experimentation. He recalled studies the scientists had conducted on neural pathways, discussions he'd overheard about quirks related to the mind—telepathy, mind control, precognition.

'Telepathy.'

The word reverberated in his mind. The phenomenon was consistent with the theoretical framework of telepathic quirks he had studied during his observation of other test subjects.

'But why now? Why would it manifest at this moment?'

Aleksandr dug deeper. He had always known his body was a meticulously engineered anomaly, the result of cruel experimentation and genetic tampering. The scientists had forced his other quirks to manifest early through chemical augmentation and stress induction. His enhanced strength, magnetism, electricity, electromagnetism manipulation, healing factor—those quirks were awakened before his fourth birthday.

'But telepathy… it's different. It's not purely physical. It's tied to cognition, to the brain's capacity to process external stimuli.'

His mind raced. The neurological experiments they'd been performing on him over the past weeks had focused heavily on increasing his brain's capacity for multitasking, analysis, and memory retention. He recalled the scientists' murmurs about overclocking neural synapses.

'They might have inadvertently triggered it.'

Aleksandr's jaw tightened. 'Or… they knew. They've been pushing me to the brink, testing my mental thresholds. Last night's overload might have been the tipping point.'

He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm. His mind shifted to prediction and strategy.

'If this is telepathy, then it explains the cacophony. My brain is struggling to filter the input. Without control, I'm a sponge, absorbing everything indiscriminately. I need to regulate it.

Right now, wherever I am being held at only has guards in the range of my "telepathy", so I'm not being overloaded with too many thoughts like last night.'

His sharp eyes darted around the room, studying his containment. The guards' muffled thoughts flickered at the edge of his awareness, like faint static. He could still sense them, despite the suppressive technology surrounding him.

'The restraints are effective at neutralizing all of my quirks except mental type abilities which include my mind and this…"telepathy". Either they don't know about this quirk, or they lack the means to suppress it yet.

Suddenly, Aleksandr's telepathic quirk caught the presence of a new person approaching the room as he heard that man's thoughts:

'Subject is awake. Observation begins now.'

The door to the room opened with a low hiss, and Aleksandr heard boots echoing on the concrete floor. He didn't need to look to know who it was.

Dr. Orlov's calm, measured thoughts were distinct among the chaos of the others.

"Good morning Aleksandr," Orlov said, his voice steady.

Aleksandr opened his eyes, meeting the doctor's calculating gaze. Behind Orlov stood 10 guards with more advanced gears of protection and heavy weapons, their expressions grim and their thoughts sharper than knives.

Thoughts, emotions of 10 angry, feared men and 1 extremely curious scientist flooded into Aleksandr's head quickly. He tried his best to endure the noticeable pain from his head.

10 people throwing curses and giving murderous intents at a 6 year-old boy while the scientist calmly analyzed:

'Subject appears physically stable. Mental condition: unknown. Last incident must not be repeated.'

Orlov scribbled something on his clipboard before addressing Aleksandr again. "I want to address you about what happened last night."

He stared at Aleksandr. "Do you remember?".

"No, I don't.", Aleksandr replied.

"From the reports, for unknown reasons, you lost control of your actions, started screaming and tried to destroy your cell's walls. The guard team assigned to your section entered your cell to subdue you…", Orlov with a grim look and his tone became harsher:

"2 of them were murdered in the process. By you. That result from your abnormal behavior necessitated these measures of fully restraining you. And I'm here to assess you. So, elaborate now, Aleksandr."

"It wasn't my intention to kill them.", Aleksandr admitted.

"Intent doesn't matter, Aleksandr," Orlov replied coldly. "Your actions do."

Aleksandr felt a flicker of guilt, but it was drowned by the anger simmering in his chest. "You made me like this. And other kids as well..." he said, his voice trembling.

Orlov paused, his thoughts momentarily quiet. Then he leaned closer.

"And what you are," Orlov said softly, "is the most remarkable creation of this facility. Soon, when you grow older, you will understand the contribution of everyone for this operation's goal, including the sacrifices of these 2 guards, will all be worth it. And you, Aleksandr, you will be our perfect piece of craft built for the glorious purpose. But only if you can learn to control yourself."

Aleksandr's eyes narrowed. "Control? Means to chain me up like an animal?"

Orlov straightened, ignoring the question. "Tell me about the pain you experienced before the incident. What triggered it?"

Aleksandr hesitated. The memories of the voices—the overwhelming cacophony of thoughts and emotions—made his pulse race. He closed his eyes, trying to shut them out, but even the memory was suffocating.

"If I have to make a guess, what I felt was probably a bad headache," he lied.

Orlov arched an eyebrow. "A headache caused you to almost destroy half of your cell and murder two men?"

Aleksandr remained silent, his jaw tight. He could hear Orlov's thoughts layered under his words.

'Dangerous. Unstable. Too valuable to lose, but too unpredictable to trust.'

Aleksandr hesitated, carefully choosing his words. "It felt like my head was splitting open. Too much… pressure."

"Pressure?" Orlov repeated, his pen scribbling notes. "Elaborate."

"It was… like my brain was overloaded," Aleksandr said, keeping his voice steady.

Orlov frowned, his thoughts racing.

'Neurological overload? Side effect of enhanced cognition? Or something new entirely?'

Aleksandr braced himself as Orlov's eyes studied him, searching for cracks in his facade.

"And the "voices" you screamed about?" Orlov asked, his tone sharp.

Aleksandr's heart skipped a beat. "Voices?"

"You yelled for them to 'get out of your head'," Orlov said. "What did you mean by that?"

Aleksandr swallowed hard. "It was just the pain," he lied. "It felt like… echoes in my head. Like my own thoughts were bouncing around too loudly."

Orlov stared at him for a long moment, his piercing gaze unsettling. Aleksandr could feel the doctor's suspicion lingering just beneath the surface.

'He's hiding something. But what?'

Orlov stepped closer, his voice lowering. "Aleksandr, I know you're smarter than this. If you lie to me, I will find out eventually. And when I do, the consequences will not be in your favor."

Aleksandr's fists clenched against the unyielding chains. "You want the truth?" he spat. "Fine. You push my limits too far. You test me like I'm some machine, and when I break, you act surprised. That's why it happened."

Orlov studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stepped back. "Interesting," he said, scribbling more notes.

'Liar.' Orlov thought.

Aleksandr's heart skipped a beat. Had Orlov figured it out? Did he suspect the telepathy?

Orlov continued his integration for more answers about other minor details from Aleksandr before going into the conclusion: "We'll increase your sedation during testing sessions to prevent further outbursts. Additional neurological scans will also be scheduled to determine if there are… anomalies. And we may consider slowing down the progress to a more suitable pace for you."

Orlov finished noting, turned to leave as the guards followed him.

The door hissed shut, leaving Aleksandr alone with his thoughts.

Aleksandr's mind raced. 'The doctor doesn't know. He's guessing.' But the thought didn't comfort him. If they scanned his brain deeply enough, they might discover his telepathy. He had to find a way to control it, to mask it better.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint, bitter smile. 'That gives me an advantage. For now.'

Aleksandr's mind settled into a cold calculation. He needed to test his hypothesis further, gather data on the quirk's range and limitations. Could he block the voices entirely? Could he focus on a single mind in the cacophony? Could he push thoughts as well as receive them?

'If I can control it… If I can master it…

Then it might be my key to get the fuck out of this shit hole!'