Marvel: I am the bastard son of stark (Remade)

The air was thick with the scent of death, the cries of the forest lingering like a distant memory. Tomura and Kurogiri moved through the trees with deadly purpose, their eyes hard, their hearts colder than the very shadows they stalked. They had killed dozens—no, hundreds—of the children sent into the Death Forest. Each victory was more effortless than the last. With every life extinguished, their hearts became harder, their resolve steeled. The fear and hesitation they had felt at the beginning of the trial had long since evaporated, replaced by something darker, something primal.

Tomura's eyes flicked over to Kurogiri, who was beside him, his presence a shadow in the forest. Kurogiri's portal powers had been perfected during their time in the forest. He could now open rifts with terrifying accuracy, transporting them wherever they needed to go. They had become a lethal duo—an unstoppable force in the Death Forest.

They had started out just trying to survive, just trying to make it through the trial. But now, it was no longer about survival. It was about dominance. It was about proving themselves to the Hand Clan, to the world. Each kill had become a statement. Each death a reminder that they were the strongest. But even as they moved through the forest, collecting the bodies of their fallen opponents, a part of Tomura couldn't shake the thought that this was more than just a test. This was a slaughter.

"How many?" Kurogiri asked quietly, his voice calm, though it barely masked the strain from their journey. He was no stranger to the brutality they had faced, but even he had begun to feel the weight of it all.

"Almost a hundred," Tomura said, his voice devoid of emotion. His gloved fingers tightened into a fist, his face set in an expression of grim determination. The forest had become his hunting ground. Every enemy that crossed their path had been swiftly dealt with, their screams swallowed by the thick woods.

Their journey had begun in silence, each step more measured than the last. But now, as the shadows deepened, the world around them felt like a graveyard. There was a strange peace to it, a stillness that made Tomura uneasy. The deeper they went, the more it felt like the forest itself was watching them—waiting for them to make a mistake. Every rustle in the leaves, every snap of a twig was a potential threat, but it was no longer fear that gripped him. It was the cold knowledge that they had become the predators.

The time had come to hunt those they had once considered their allies—Toshiro, Tatsuya, and Hitomi. They had been separated in the chaos of the earlier fights, but now, Tomura knew they had to finish what they had started.

Toshiro, Tatsuya, and Hitomi were strong. In the beginning, they had been more than mere companions—they had been a team. But the Hand had made sure that everyone, even friends, would be turned into enemies by the end.

Tomura felt a flicker of hesitation deep within his chest, a small, almost imperceptible pang of guilt. But it was gone in an instant, erased by the ruthless drive that had consumed him. This is how it has to be.

They moved through the forest with the precision of hunters on a mission. Every step was calculated, every movement deliberate. Kurogiri opened a portal to scan ahead, his eyes scanning the area before closing it with a flick of his wrist.

"They're not far," Kurogiri murmured, his tone low. "I can sense them."

Tomura nodded, his gaze hardening as he began to walk in the direction Kurogiri pointed. They were close now. So close.

The group they had hunted down earlier had been easy prey—unorganized, unprepared for the viciousness of Tomura and Kurogiri's attack. But Toshiro, Tatsuya, and Hitomi were different. They weren't just fighting to survive—they were fighting for their lives. They knew what the Hand was capable of. They knew the stakes. They had been trained just like Tomura, just like Kurogiri. But it was the bonds they had once shared that made this encounter so difficult. They had all fought together in the beginning, trusted one another.

Now, those bonds were about to be tested. The forest grew denser as they closed in on their targets, the darkness almost suffocating. The leaves rustled ominously overhead, and Tomura couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. He gripped his hands tighter, forcing the thought from his mind.

Ahead, a flicker of movement caught his eye. His heart raced. He saw them.

Toshiro, Tatsuya, and Hitomi were crouched in a small clearing, their faces grim. They had clearly been preparing for an ambush, but it was too late. Tomura and Kurogiri had already surrounded them.

"Toshiro," Tomura called, his voice cutting through the silence. "Tatsuya. Hitomi."

They turned as one, their expressions a mix of surprise and determination. There was no fear in their eyes—only the resolve to survive.

"T-Tomura... Kurogiri..." Tatsuya began, his voice shaking but strong. "You... you don't have to do this. We're still friends. We can—"

"No," Tomura interrupted coldly, his voice flat and emotionless. "We were never friends. Not really. We were just pawns in the Hand's game."

Toshiro's eyes narrowed. "You've changed," he muttered. "You were never like this."

"Things change," Tomura said, his tone devoid of any emotion. "And you're going to learn that the hard way."

Without warning, Tomura lunged forward, his fingers outstretched, ready to touch and disintegrate. Kurogiri followed closely behind, creating portals to block any retreat, closing in on the trio from all sides. The battle was upon them.

Toshiro reacted instantly, his eyes locking onto Tomura's, and with a swift movement, Tomura felt his body freeze, his mind scrambling to regain control. Toshiro's mind control ability had taken hold—but Tomura was ready for it.

He fought the compulsion, the thoughts of his body moving against his will. The battle of wills was fierce, but Tomura's resolve was stronger. With a violent shake of his head, he broke free, his hand coming down with a crushing blow that sent Toshiro stumbling back.

Tatsuya wasn't far behind, creating two duplicates of himself. The clones attacked with a flurry of punches and kicks, trying to overwhelm Tomura and Kurogiri. But Kurogiri was ready. A portal opened up beneath the duplicates, sending them tumbling into the ground below.

Hitomi, watching from a distance, raised her hand to the sky, summoning a gust of wind to knock Tomura off his feet. But it wasn't enough. Tomura's eyes narrowed as he used his Decay Quirk, sending waves of decay through the air, knocking Hitomi off balance.

The forest trembled with the force of the battle, the air thick with the sounds of violence and the cries of the fallen.

But then, something strange happened. As Tomura looked into their eyes, a part of him hesitated. These were once my friends...

But the hesitation was fleeting. He could not afford to be weak. He could not afford to hold back.

With a final, swift movement, Tomura reached out, his fingers grazing Toshiro's neck. The effect was immediate. Toshiro's body crumbled into dust before his eyes, his mind lost to the decay.

Kurogiri dispatched the last of Tatsuya's duplicates, his portals closing in on the real Tatsuya, trapping him in a rift. The boy struggled, his eyes wild with fear, but it was no use. His end came swiftly.

Hitomi, weakened by the wind and the shock, couldn't escape. Tomura approached her with the same cold detachment, his hand reaching out, and in an instant, she too was no more.

The Death Forest fell silent once more, but Tomura could only hear the roar of his own heartbeat. What had just happened? What had they become?

Time Skip:

The forest was still. Tomura stood alone in the clearing, the bodies of his former friends scattered around him. There were no words left to say.

A new understanding had dawned in Tomura's mind. There was no going back now.

He had crossed the point of no return.

And now, the Hand Clan would know that he was worthy. But at what cost?