Marvel: I am the bastard son of stark

The morning of Tomura Shigaraki's fourth birthday began like any other. The nursery was alive with colour, the chatter of children filling the air as they played. Tomura stood in the corner, a wooden block in his small hands, his dark eyes focused as though the simple toy held the answers to the universe. His mother, Maria, kissed him goodbye, promising to return soon.

Hours passed, and then it happened. At first, it was subtle. Tomura's hand brushed against the block, and it crumbled to dust. He froze, staring at the fine particles falling from his fingers. His chest tightened, a strange heat coursing through him. Panic rose as he touched the wooden table, which dissolved under his fingertips. The other children noticed, their laughter turning to shrieks.

"Stop it!" one cried, backing away, but Tomura couldn't. Everything he touched disintegrated. Toys, furniture, even the walls began to crumble. Tears streamed down his face as he stumbled through the room, his sobs loud and broken.

Maria arrived just as the chaos reached its peak. "Tomura!" she screamed, rushing toward him. He turned to her, his small hands outstretched, desperate for comfort. But as her arms wrapped around him, she too began to fade. Her touch, warm and familiar, turned to dust before his eyes.

"No! Mama!" Tomura wailed, his voice raw. He fell to his knees, clawing at the empty space where she had been, her name escaping his lips over and over. The other adults, terrified, tried to intervene but were reduced to nothing the moment they approached.

Amid the destruction, something clicked in Tomura's mind. Memories that weren't his own flooded in, vivid and overwhelming. A name whispered itself in his thoughts: Tomura Shigaraki. He saw flashes of a man with white hair, decay spreading from his hands, and a world that celebrated and condemned destruction alike. He understood now. This power, this curse, had belonged to someone else. Someone he had become.

He stood on shaky legs, his heart pounding. The nursery was silent now, a wasteland of ash and ruin. His small hands trembled as he found a cape in the toy basket, the bright fabric a stark contrast to the gray around him. He draped it over his shoulders, as if it could shield him from the truth of what he had done.

Without looking back, Tomura ran. His bare feet slapped against the pavement as he fled the place that had been his world. The city blurred around him, his tears clouding his vision. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get away.

The forest greeted him with open arms, its shadows cool and quiet. He collapsed against a tree, the weight of his new reality crashing down. The memories of his past life swirled with the grief of his mother's loss, a storm he didn't know how to weather. Wrapping the cape tighter around himself, Tomura stared into the darkness, his small body trembling.

He was alone now. But deep inside, he felt a spark—a purpose. One he couldn't yet name, but it was there, waiting.