My Legacy, My Decree, My Will (BNHA x AOT)

"Oh, Nimbus, you're a legend!"

Graves finally snapped, pulling out a high-tech rifle of his own. "Enough of this circus!" he roared, taking aim at Aiden. The rifle hummed ominously, charging with energy.

Celeste's visor flashed red, alerting her to the incoming threat. "Aiden, heads up!"

But Aiden didn't need the warning. The moment Graves pulled the trigger, sending a crackling bolt of energy hurtling toward him, Aiden raised his hand. The bolt stopped inches from his palm, held aloft by his quirk.

"Oh, now this is interesting," Aiden mused, examining the energy as if it were a curious insect. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it spiralling back toward Graves, who dove out of the way just in time. The bolt slammed into a van, reducing it to a smoking wreck.

Graves scrambled to his feet, his composure finally cracking. "What are you?!"

Aiden stepped forward, his expression turning serious for the first time. "I'm the guy who told you to do your homework," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Now, you've got two options: run away and live to regret it, or stick around and find out just how bad you messed up."

Graves hesitated, glancing around at his men—most of whom were unconscious or groaning on the ground. His hand tightened on his weapon, but the fire in his eyes was gone.

With a frustrated growl, he signalled to the remaining mercenaries. "Fall back!"

The surviving men scrambled to their vehicles, dragging their injured comrades with them. Within moments, the armoured convoy was retreating, leaving behind a trail of smoke and chaos.

Aiden watched them go, brushing dust off his robes. "That was fun," he said, turning to Celeste and Toru. "You guys good?"

Celeste rolled her eyes but smiled. "We're fine. Though you really have a flair for the dramatic."

Toru, still trembling slightly, nodded. "You were... amazing, Aiden."

He grinned, ruffling her hair. "Thanks, Toru. Now, let's get to school before we're late. Wouldn't want the teachers thinking I'm a bad influence."

Nimbus squeaked in agreement, hopping back onto his shoulder.

-

-

All Might arrived in a flash, skidding to a stop amidst the debris and chaos left behind from the earlier skirmish. His towering frame stood tall and imposing, his presence alone demanding attention. The unmistakable booming voice followed, tinged with concern.

"Young Aiden! Young Celeste! Toru!" he called, his sharp eyes scanning the aftermath. "What happened here? Are you all alright?"

Aiden, standing casually amidst the wreckage, turned with his usual grin. Dusting off his golden-trimmed robes, he waved lazily at the Pro Hero. Nimbus chittered on his shoulder as though it, too, were unbothered by the destruction.

"All Might!" Aiden greeted with feigned cheerfulness. "You're late. We already took care of the problem."

Celeste adjusted her glasses, her composed demeanour a stark contrast to the ruined surroundings. "It was a group of mercenaries. They were after Aiden, of course."

"Mercenaries?" All Might's brow furrowed deeply, his booming voice dropping an octave. "Why would they target one of my students?"

Toru, still a little shaken but stable enough to speak, chimed in, "They kept calling him a prince or something. It was really scary, but... Aiden handled it."

All Might's sharp gaze turned to Aiden, his concern doubling. "Young man, are you alright? Do you need medical attention?!"

Aiden waved him off with a casual laugh. "Nah, I'm good. They couldn't lay a finger on me. Though I appreciate the concern, All Might."

The Pro Hero looked around again, taking in the devastation—shattered cars, bullet-ridden walls, and unconscious bodies strewn about. Though most of the mercenaries had fled, a few still groaned weakly on the ground, clutching injuries.

"This is serious," All Might said, his tone grim. "They'll be back. People like this don't give up easily, especially if they're working for someone with deep pockets."

Celeste tilted her head. "We figured as much. But it's nothing we can't handle."

Aiden's grin grew a little sharper. "Yeah, and speaking of handling things…"

He turned slightly away from All Might, his expression darkening just enough to signal he wasn't joking anymore. A faint hum came from his communicator as he activated it, sending a silent order to his two loyal bodyguards.

"Seraphine, Kaela," he murmured. "I want them gone. No loose ends. Follow them, find their hideout, and clean house."

Seraphine's voice came through with a lighthearted tone that didn't match the seriousness of the task. "You got it, boss. We'll make sure they regret this little field trip."

Kaela's tone was colder, more professional. "Consider it done."

Satisfied, Aiden turned back to All Might, his grin returning. "Now, we should get to school, yeah? Don't want to be late!"

All Might wasn't entirely convinced but decided to focus on the immediate safety of his students. "Alright, I'll take you there myself. Stay close."

Meanwhile, Somewhere in the City

The convoy of mercenaries sped through empty streets, their vehicles battered and their morale shattered. Graves, sitting in the lead truck, barked orders into his comms, his voice laced with frustration and barely concealed fear.

"Get us back to base now! We need to regroup and report to the client. I don't care if we lost men—just move!"

The remaining men murmured nervously among themselves, casting glances at the sky and their rear-view mirrors as if expecting Aiden to appear again.

But what they didn't see—or hear—was far deadlier.

[Location: The Warehouse]

The convoy eventually arrived at an abandoned industrial warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The remaining mercenaries scrambled out of their vehicles, dragging their injured comrades with them. Inside, the cavernous space was dimly lit, stacks of crates and barrels providing cover.

Graves slammed his fist on a nearby table, glaring at his men. "We're not out of the woods yet! I want every entrance locked down! Get the weapons prepped! If that kid—or whatever he is—comes here, we make our stand!"

But before they could carry out his orders, the shadows shifted.

A faint sound, like the rustle of fabric or the whisper of wind, echoed through the warehouse. One of the mercenaries turned, his rifle trembling slightly in his grip. "Did you hear that?"

Then came the first scream.

Seraphine struck with the speed and precision of a hunting lioness. One mercenary standing guard near the back entrance barely had time to raise his weapon before her blade found his throat. Blood sprayed across the wall as his body crumpled silently to the ground.

Kaela, entering from the roof, was just as ruthless. Using a grapple to descend into the rafters, she dropped down on an unsuspecting group of mercenaries, snapping the neck of one before driving a knife into the spine of another.

The rest of the mercenaries were thrown into disarray. "We're under attack!" one of them shouted, firing blindly into the shadows.

Seraphine appeared in a blur, her green cloak billowing behind her as she dashed between crates. Her golden-trimmed armour gleamed faintly in the dim light, making her look almost like an avenging angel.

She darted behind another mercenary, her sword flashing as she cleaved through his weapon and chest in one fluid motion.

Kaela, meanwhile, moved like a ghost. She used the shadows and her knowledge of battlefield tactics to outmanoeuvre the remaining men.

She disabled one's weapon with a precise shot from her silenced pistol, then grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into a wall, his helmet cracking under the force.

The warehouse descended into chaos. The mercenaries fired wildly, their fear driving them to desperation. But it was no use. Seraphine and Kaela were relentless.

Blood pooled on the floor, reflecting the dim light. One by one, the mercenaries fell, their screams echoing in the cavernous space. Some tried to flee, but Seraphine caught them before they could reach the exits, her blade cutting through flesh and bone with terrifying efficiency.

Graves, still clinging to some semblance of leadership, grabbed a grenade launcher and aimed at Kaela, who was perched atop a stack of crates.

He fired, the explosion engulfing the area in smoke and flames.

But when the smoke cleared, Kaela was gone.

A sharp blade pressed against Graves' throat, and he froze. Kaela's cold voice whispered in his ear, "That was your last mistake."

Seraphine approached, her armour stained with blood but her expression calm. She looked at Graves, then at Kaela. "What do you think? Mercy, or no mercy?"

Graves' eyes darted between them, sweat pouring down his face. "Please... I was just following orders!"

Kaela's expression didn't waver. "Wrong answer."

Seraphine's blade flashed once, and Graves' lifeless body slumped to the floor.

The two women stood amidst the carnage, their mission complete. Seraphine wiped her blade clean, her cheerful tone returning. "Well, that was fun. Think the boss will be happy?"

Kaela sheathed her weapon, her eyes scanning the room one last time. "He'll be satisfied. Let's go."

They vanished into the shadows as silently as they'd arrived, leaving behind nothing but destruction and a grim warning for anyone foolish enough to cross Aiden Wilhelm Fritz.

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[2 out of 2 chap releases]