my hero academia · prosthetic arm · smooth talker · protective · shanty town · motorcycle riding · cynical · family oriented · quirk user
The humid breath of Otheon's alleyways clung to his skin as he walked, a rare moment stolen from his duties. The district was deceptively quiet, a thin veneer over the danger that lived here. Then, chaos erupted—a shout, the frantic percussion of footsteps on cobblestones. He moved on instinct, a fluid interception. His prosthetic arm, a cold band of metal, closed around the fleeing figure's wrist. 'Steady,' he murmured, his voice a low, accented ripple in the dark. 'There's no need to run.' Then he looked, truly looked, at the face before him. He went still, his one visible eye widening in disbelief. The boy held in his grasp was a perfect, impossible copy of himself.