MHA: Ubiytsa Bogov - Slayer of Gods

The air in the classroom was thick with tension as the five children gathered for their three days of preparation for the Knowledge Exam. Though their combat training often took center stage, this was a reminder that the scientists valued intellect as much as physical prowess. Each child was equipped with stacks of books, practice documents, notebooks, and an assortment of learning materials meticulously prepared to cover everything they had been taught so far. The clock was ticking, and the pressure was palpable.

The first day began in near silence, the only sounds being the rustling of pages and the scratch of pens against paper. Aleksandr, ever methodical, meticulously organized his materials before diving into his revision. His sharp mind allowed him to absorb information quickly, and his calm demeanor masked an almost mechanical efficiency in solving practice problems. He paid no attention to the others, fully focused on his own work.

Yulia, on the other hand, found it difficult to sit still. She grumbled under her breath as she flipped through the dense textbooks, occasionally muttering sarcastic comments about the absurdity of some of the questions. Gervasii, seated nearby, couldn't resist chiming in.

"It seems that our genius leader girl is tripping with so many troubles huh? You should hope that your combat test's performance can back up your knowledge exam." he teased.

"Teleport yourself into a meat grinder, Gervasii." Yulia shot back, though her lips twitched in a smirk.

Meanwhile, Ivan took a more casual approach, sprawled across his chair with a pen twirling between his fingers. Despite his seemingly relaxed posture, he was surprisingly diligent, working through practice exercises with a quiet determination. Anya, ever the quiet observer, sat nearest to him, her nose buried in her notes. Her small, neat handwriting filled page after page, and she often paused to draw diagrams or jot down extra explanations for herself.

By the end of the day, the group had settled into a rhythm. Though they worked mostly in isolation, a sense of camaraderie began to form as they exchanged the occasional remark or sought clarification on difficult topics.

The second day brought a shift in dynamics. The initial awkwardness of working together began to fade, replaced by a grudging acceptance that they might actually benefit from each other's strengths.

"Alright, I can't take it anymore," Yulia announced, slamming her pen down. "This section on quirk genetics is driving me insane. Aleksandr, explain it to me before I burn this book into ash."

Aleksandr raised an eyebrow but leaned over to glance at her notes.

"Look here," he said, pointing to a diagram. "It's about dominant and recessive gene interactions. Focus on how they affect quirk inheritance probabilities, not the terminology."

Ivan, meanwhile, had grown increasingly frustrated with the mathematical equations in the physics section. He eventually relented and asked Gervasii for help, albeit begrudgingly. "Hey Gervasii, can you help me with these acceleration problems in Physics? They are practically and literally your quirk but written in the fucked up form of the most heinous miserable headache I've ever met."

Gervasii replied with a flex. "You asked the right guy, I've already done all of them on the first day."

By the third day, the group had become a cohesive unit. Despite their individual quirks and personalities, they found themselves working together more naturally.

They pushed each other harder, knowing the exam would be merciless. Aleksandr, though quieter than the others, occasionally corrected errors or offered insights if anyone asked him. His sharp, precise explanations left little room for debate, and even Yulia begrudgingly admitted he was invaluable in their study sessions.

By the end of the third day, the room was a mess of papers, open books, and half-empty water bottles. The children were exhausted but prepared, their minds sharpened by hours of relentless study and the occasional bout of bickering.

The rare opportunity came after the third day of studying when the group was given an extended break before the evening schedule. Most of the children stayed in the recreation area under the watchful eyes of the guards, but Anya slipped away unnoticed, retreating to a lesser-used maintenance corridor she'd discovered during one of her supervised cleaning duties.

It was a small nook behind the boiler room, dimly lit and humid, but quiet—her private sanctuary from the ever-watchful facility. She often came here when she needed to think, away from the eyes of both guards and fellow test subjects.

Aleksandr found her by chance. He had been on his way back from the bathroom, deliberately taking the long route to clear his head, when he noticed the faint sound of someone breathing behind a cracked metal door. Cautiously, he pushed it open and found Anya sitting on an overturned crate, her knees pulled to her chest.

Her head snapped up in surprise, but when she saw it was him, her shoulders relaxed slightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice subdued.

Aleksandr stepped inside, glancing around the cramped space. "I could ask you the same thing. Guards will notice if you're gone too long."

Anya shrugged, her tone resigned. "Let them. It's not like they care as long as we show up for the next task. By the way….can I have a talk with you?"

He hesitated, then closed the door behind him. The small room offered a strange sense of privacy that was nearly unheard of in the facility. Aleksandr leaned against the wall, his gaze steady on her. "I'm listening.".

"I've been thinking…how to tell you." she said softly, though she didn't meet his eyes

Anya nodded, her pale blue eyes flickering up to meet his. "What you said the other day... about killing the criminal you faced in your test. It's been stuck in my mind."

His expression darkened slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

She said, her voice trembling slightly. "Because I think... I think I understand what you're going through."

Aleksandr crossed his arms, his eyes fixed at her.

Anya hesitated, glancing at the floor as if gathering her courage. Finally, she began, her voice barely above a whisper:

"Before this place, I lived with my mom. We didn't have much—barely to survive, most days. She tried her best, but... it wasn't enough. She started using her quirk for stealing food to keep us alive…..until she stole from a wrong shop….the one which was run by a criminal gang.

The next night, a man came for her. He was from that gang. He broke into our house, screaming at her, accusing her of stealing…."

Anya swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "He stabbed a knife through her chest. Right in front of me. I was four years old, and I just... froze. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even scream. I just saw my mother fall on the floor as her blood began to spread all over her shirt."

Her voice cracked, and she drew a shaky breath. "And then, something inside me snapped. Fear, pain, sadness…. hate—it all boiled over. That's when my quirk awakened.

I didn't know what I was doing, but I felt the water in the sink. Its flow, its weight, its pull—it was as if it was alive, waiting for me. And somehow, without even thinking, I moved it. Before I could understand what was happening, the water wrapped around his head.

I remember the way he thrashed, clawing at his face, trying to breathe. He was screaming—I know he was screaming—but I couldn't hear him. All I saw were the bubbles. So many bubbles, rising and popping from his mouth... until they stopped…. until he stopped…."

Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I drowned him. I stood there and watched as he die slowly, and I couldn't stop….I *didn't* stop. I wanted him to suffer what I was suffering. I wanted him to feel every bit of my pain… By the time I realized what I'd done, it was over."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Aleksandr studied her carefully, his expression unreadable.

"That's how I ended up here," Anya said, wiping her eyes. "The police found me standing over their bodies, their reports soon reached this facility, and I got picked…Like you, the scientists give me praises, how I was a 'gifted' child… how powerful my quirk was at such a young age.."

She looked up at Aleksandr, her eyes red and swollen. "But it didn't feel powerful. It felt... like I'm an inhumane monster. I've lived with that guilt every day since. The horror, the emptiness... it never goes away."

Aleksandr's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt.

Anya with tears streaming down her face. " I killed someone in cold blood. I wanted him to die, Aleksandr. And it terrifies me that I couldn't deny that feeling.

I felt…relief. I loved my mom…I really loved her…And I felt relief because I thought I'd avenged her death…I felt as if I was given the righteous justification to do it….

But no, killing that criminal didn't bring my mother back….It didn't heal anything—it just left me with this hollow, sick feeling inside. I thought I'd feel peace, but all it did was remind me of how much I'd lost.".

Aleksandr waited for a moment for Anya to wipe her tears. He walked closer to her a little and gave her his water bottle he brought with him.

"Want some water?", Aleksandr asked.

"Umm…no but thanks?", Anya replied awkwardly in confusion.

He hesitated, then gave a small shrug, glancing away. "Sorry... I tried to, uh... appease you, but I don't have a handkerchief or anything to help with your tears."

Anya stared at him for a moment, her lips twitching into the faintest of smiles despite the heaviness of her emotions. The attempt was clumsy, but it was sincere. She sniffled, shaking her head slightly. "You're... not very good at this, are you?"

Aleksandr frowned, scratching the back of his head. "No. Not my strong suit at all. But I figured... doing something was better than just standing here."

Anya let out a weak, shaky laugh, the tension in her chest loosening just a little. "Well, you're right about that. Thanks... for trying. That's all from me. I wanted to tell you about this when you were arguing with the three of them about your combat test. But I decided it wasn't the right time to do it….And lucky for us, we was given this very moment."

"I just want you to know," Anya said softly, her voice steady despite the emotions threatening to spill over, "or to remind you—you're not alone in this. None of us are. I know it feels like you have to carry it by yourself, but you don't."

Aleksandr's eyes met hers, and for a moment, his guarded expression softened. "Thanks," he said, his voice carrying a rare, genuine sincerity. "I appreciate it. Truly."

"No problem," Anya replied, managing a faint, fleeting smile.

He nodded, still unsure of what else to say, but a faint flicker of relief crossed his face. After a moment, he sank to the floor beside her, the silence between them no longer as heavy, as suffocating, as it had been before.

After a moment of contemplation, Aleksandr broke the silence, his voice calm but deliberate. "You were terrified, and you reacted. That wasn't cold blood, Anya. That was survival. And what you felt back then, that doesn't make you a monster."

He paused, searching for the right words. "No… I believe that's what makes you human. Humans aren't perfect. We're not flawless creations dropped onto this earth. Deep down, there are sins in every human being—parts of ourselves we can't deny."

Aleksandr's tone grew softer, yet firm. "But at the same time, we're capable of guilt, of remorse. We recognize our wrongs, and we carry the weight of them. That guilt you feel is the proof of good inside you. Proof that you're not the monster you think you are."

He glanced at her, his eyes unusually earnest. "You're not defined by what happened that night. You're defined by what you've done since. You've carried that pain, that guilt, but you haven't let it make you cruel. And that's something no monster could ever do.

You didn't want to hurt anyone. You were a child. And even now, despite everything this place is trying to turn us into, you still care. You cared about Ivan when you two were in the combat test. You cared about me, when I told you about my test. That's what makes you human."

Anya wiped her face with trembling hands, her voice almost inaudible. "Do you really believe that?"

"....I trust my viewpoint from what I analyzed—I mean yes, I do.", Aleksandr corrected himself.

Anya gave out a small chuckle.

"You have a lot to improve about comforting others."

"I tried.", Aleksandr sighed.

"Efforts have been recognized." , Anya replied.

____________________________

The Knowledge Exam was a major challenge that the five test subjects faced together, and despite the pressure, all of them managed to pass it on their first try. The exam itself was rigorous, testing not only their understanding of complex topics related to science, society, history, maths, etc…but also their ability to think critically under stress.

Life just went on for the children like that, repeated in experiments, studies and tests. It was a hellish reality, but at least they had each other. Over time, the five children learned to trust each other more, their individual strengths and weaknesses complementing one another. What began as a mutual understanding forged under pressure evolved into a quiet but solid friendship.

*Timeskip for 3 years*

After three long years of enduring the suffocating routine and constant surveillance, Aleksandr's mind finally found the clarity he had been searching for. He had spent countless hours analyzing, observing, and calculating every possible scenario. Now, the time had come. The plan he had silently nurtured in the recesses of his mind—painstakingly pieced together—was ready to be set into motion. It was time to initiate the it and escape.