Marvel: I am the bastard son of stark

Tomura Shigaraki's body ached as he lay curled on the cold steel floor of his cell, the faint hum of machinery filling the air. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory, the whispers of Kurogiri, and the endless pain he endured at Stryker's hands. Days blended into nights, the sterile confines of the lab offering no respite.

But change was coming. He sensed it in the way the scientists whispered among themselves, their furtive glances lingering on him longer than usual. Then, one day, it happened. Stryker's face loomed above him, his voice devoid of any warmth.

"You've served your purpose here, boy. But Hydra has expressed interest in acquiring you. Congratulations—you're being sold."

Tomura didn't respond, his expression blank as he stared at the man who had torn his childhood apart. Inside, however, a storm brewed. He could feel the quirk within him, the power that had brought him so much pain, yearning to be unleashed. But for now, he waited, biding his time.

Kurogiri's mist swirled protectively around him as they were transported to Hydra's facility. The journey was uneventful, the dark, windowless truck providing no clues about their destination. When they arrived, Tomura was led into a sprawling underground compound, the Hydra insignia glaring down from every wall.

A tall man in a crisp uniform approached, his smile cold and calculated. "Welcome, Tomura. You're going to be very useful to us."

For weeks, Hydra's scientists subjected Tomura to gruelling experiments, their methods no less cruel than Stryker's. They sought to understand his quirk, to harness it for their own purposes. They tested his limits, forcing him to disintegrate objects, walls, and even live subjects.

Kurogiri's presence was his only solace. "Stay strong, Tomura," the mist would whisper. "They may try to break you, but they can never take who you truly are."

One day, as he lay restrained on yet another lab table, he overheard two scientists talking.

"The DNA results came back. You won't believe this," one of them said.

"What is it?"

"The boy's DNA matches Tony Stark's. He's Stark's son."

The words hit Tomura like a thunderbolt. Tony Stark. The name was familiar, a shadow from his fragmented past life. He felt a surge of emotions he couldn't fully comprehend: anger, betrayal, hatred. Memories of his mother's struggles flashed through his mind—her sacrifices, her pain.

"It's his fault," Tomura whispered to himself. "He abandoned her. He abandoned me. All of this is because of him."

Kurogiri's mist coiled around him, sensing his turmoil. "Your anger is justified, Tomura. But let it fuel you, not consume you. Stark will pay for his neglect, but first, you must survive."

Tomura's training intensified under Hydra's watchful eye. They pushed him to the brink, honing his combat skills and exploiting his quirk. Despite their efforts to brainwash him, Kurogiri's constant presence kept him grounded. The mist would infiltrate his thoughts, shielding his mind from their manipulations.

One day, the scientists introduced a new experiment. "We've been developing a serum that can replicate mutant abilities in non-mutants," one of them explained. "Using DNA extracted from mutants, we've created a compound that enhances abilities. You'll be our first test subject."

Tomura didn't resist as they injected the serum into his veins. Pain erupted in his chest, searing and unrelenting. His body convulsed, his heart pounding erratically before… stopping.

The monitors flatlined. The scientists exchanged panicked looks, their hopes for the experiment dashed.

"He's dead," one of them muttered. "Dispose of the body."

Tomura's lifeless form was unceremoniously dumped into a trash bin, his body transported to a disposal facility. But inside the trash truck, something stirred. Kurogiri emerged from Tomura's mouth, the dark mist wrapping around his body and reigniting the faintest spark of life.

Tomura's eyes snapped open, his breathing shallow but steady. "Kurogiri," he rasped.

"I stopped your life signals to fool them," Kurogiri explained. "We're free now."

Tomura sat up, his body weak but his resolve stronger than ever. "Let's get out of here."

They slipped out of the truck and into the open air, the vast desert of New Mexico stretching out before them. The sun beat down mercilessly, but Tomura felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was free.

As he looked out over the barren landscape, a new determination took root in his heart. Tony Stark's name echoed in his mind, a symbol of everything he had lost.

"I'll make him pay," Tomura vowed, his voice steady. "For her. For everything."

Kurogiri hovered beside him, silent but supportive. Together, they began their journey, the desert sands marking the first steps of a path that would shake the world to its core.