»»————- ☩ ————-««  *Yes I changed their ages don't @ me*

Izuku's eyes widened as he took in all the sights gently laid out before him. Rich colors both warm and cool, saturated and diluted, had begun flooding his senses into overload as his breathing came to a faltering interval.     

While he had seen the smallest fraction of what the outside world had to offer as he and Katsuki made their trek through the woods, he had been too wrapped up in the adrenaline influx pulsing through him. He had also been too indulged in the nagging emotions and thoughts of the horrid events he had witnessed hours prior to meeting the blond.

Yet now being here, with his perceptions being covered in a thick canopy of sounds, sights, smells, and tastes all he good do was laugh. How could his parents have kept him away from such a beautiful place? How could they have never explained to him everything they had encountered on one of their research visits? It was truly and utterly breathtaking to witness.

"You act like you've never been outside before," Katsuki commented idly as he led the younger through the tribe's village.

"I haven't," Izuku whispered as his nostrils flared, taking in the saccharine scent of something being boiled over a fire. "I was never allowed." while the words were supposed to be layered in pullulating animosity as they usually were, Izuku's voice had come off as distant and hushed.

Still too enthralled with the beauties around him.

The village was rather large. However, the same large and close together trees that they had walked through to enter shrouded every outer corner of it—only leaving the middle open and clear. People of all sorts of ages, heights, and shapes walked past them; most of them nodding their heads respectfully when they noticed Katsuki walking past, offering Izuku questioning gazes or lingering smiles.

Small huts constructed of wood aligned the edges of the village's perimeter, some of which were even built on top of the trees. A treehouse. Izuku had remembered the word from one of his classes on the Colony. There was a small accumulation of stones in the dead center of the village, the heart of their tribe no doubt, a roaring fire blazing in the middle of the rock in spite of the sun being out.

People hauled carts everywhere Izuku looked, all of which carried a numerous amount of items they tried to either sell or trade to others. More scents, sights, and tastes—which lingered in the unspoiled air—blinded the freckled male to any cogent notion or action. It was truly a heaven on Earth.

Katsuki stared at the boy intently as they walked, guards holding spears, makeshift knives, and bows and arrows all giving him the same respectful nod. However, he barely paid any mind to them—the same billow of questions from before had come back in a large influx. Crowding his mind. Resisting the urge to ask any of them, for there would be time set aside for that later, he led Izuku to the largest building which rested on the far north side of the building.

The village hall.

It had clearly been built well before the outbreak centuries prior to; for the cracked stone and open carvings—which had possibly once been windows—told Izuku so. Vines and moss cradled the sides of the building, curling and swirling around the stone like fuzzy snakes. Wildflowers blooming and uncurling from the cracks in the stone steps.

"Ductor Bakugou," a guard greeted him as they approached the steps. "Who is this outsider you've brought into our home?" he asked skeptically, gripping onto his spear tighter than necessary.

Izuku quirked an eyebrow at the red-eyed male at the word Ductor, his lips twitching into a surprised smirk. 

"Someone who can help. Now, move," Katsuki ordered, his raspy voice dropping a few octaves with annoyance. 

Doing as they were adjured, Katsuki placed a firm hand on the younger's elbow—guiding him inside and shutting the door behind himself. The room was large, however, the items that adorned it were rather mismatched and odd; it was as if they had found artifacts from before The Death Waves and placed them wherever they see fit. 

"You never told me you were a leader too," Izuku mumbled after a few beats of silence, running his finger along what appeared to be a beat-up car hubcap. "How many Ductor's are there?" he asked, cambering his head.

"Two," came the disembodied reply, prompting an arctic shiver to surge through Izuku's spine.

Sharp, calculating, eyes flickered past the smoldering flames of the slightly destroyed fireplace illuminating the room with its glow. Landing on the shredded curtains hanging over the carved out hole in the wall—where a door used to be.

"Katsuki, who is this?" stepping out from the curtains came a boy around Katsuki's age, yet clearly older than Izuku.

Just as the blond, the male's hair was rather long but still short. Shaggy strands of ruby and white locks of hair curling at the base of his jaw, barely sweeping over the front of his two-toned eyes and sharp cheekbones. Unlike Izuku—yet just as everyone else the younger had met—it was evident he had been graced with spending time underneath the vibrant sun. For his skin was a deep tanned yet creamy white, contrasting with the pale white of Izuku's own skin.

As the green-haired male scanned over the two boys in the room with him, he had begun to notice a similarity in their clothing. In contradistinction to Izuku's Colony issued khaki pants with one too many pockets and shirt, Katsuki and the duel-colored-haired male had rather different clothing. Their shirts were made of what appeared to be animal fur and patches of random cloth sewn together, however, their pants and shoes seemed to be more sleek and smooth.

Like . . . leather. Leather was a rather rare material on the Colony, which made it worth so much more whenever someone sold it. 

A wide smile broke out onto the usual hardened yet smug expression usually resting on Katsuki's face. "Shoto, this is Izuku Midoriya . . . he's a Qui Metallum," he explained proudly, more of himself rather than Izuku. "I caught him by our eastern borders."

Izuku grimaced at the word 'caught', for it had made him sound like more of a prisoner rather than someone who was going to aid them in their problem. 

"Do you take me for a fool?" Shoto scoffed, eyeing Izuku up and down. 

"Quite frequently. Yes." Katsuki smirked. "But . . . I'm telling the truth. Look at him!" he urged, motioning towards the stone-faced Izuku standing rigidly beside him.

The eldest of the three drug his two-toned eyes over Izuku, his gaze scrutinizing—enough to make any normal person squirm. But then again, seeing as though Izuku had killed his parents just earlier this morning . . . it was safe to say he was not, in fact, normal. Whatever that meant nowadays.

Izuku wasn't so sure.

"Is this true?" Shoto asked Izuku, his gaze strengthening in hopes of getting some sort of reaction out him. Yet failing miserably.

"Maybe," the freckled male replied, a wry smile etched across his lips pointedly. "Except, before I answer that question truthfully . . . who's to say you won't just kill me?"

Katsuki stiffened while Shoto observed the newcomer, the corners of his mouth pulled down into a perplexed frown. This Qui Metallum's words were utterly absurd to him, for his people were not as violent as the other tribes who resided close within the area. Surely, this should have been a well-known fact—whether someone lived in a bunker or not. Right?

Finally, a sense of realization rained down on him as his eyes darted to the blond. 

"What did you do?"

"Oh you know—" Katsuki waved a dismissive hand in the air. "—I threatened to kill him."

As the blond shot the two both an apologetic look, Shoto's face softened for a moment; for he knew the blond was still . . . adjusting. However, he would have to have a rather stern talking to with him later on.

Izuku folded his arms and leaned against the wall, observing the room analytically in case he would have to fight his way out. "So, you're not going to kill me?" he spoke as if he did not believe his words, drawing them out longer than needed.

"No," Shoto hummed. "But if what you both say is true, if you're really a Qui Metallum than you—"

"—Can help with your sick people?" Izuku interjected, slowly raising an eyebrow as he eyed Shoto. "Yeah. I can do it, but we're going to need to go back to my bunker where there are proper materials for that,"

An exhausted smile made itself known onto the two natives to the forest, oddly making their features appear older than what they were. It had been a tiring past few weeks what with the rapid outbreak in sickness at their village, their people were tired, confused, and angry—as were they. But now, it felt as though everything was coming together.

"Okay . . . I'll see what I can do for that. But in the meantime, could you take a look at them?" Shoto questioned, motioning with his hand for the two to follow him.

Damn it, this was going to be one long day.    

Hello Cricket Cultists!!

Ahhhh. The chapters will get longer as we go further on into the story. But so far, what do we think? I'm still playing around with a few ideas for the village and how it works. But so far I like it!

Comments?

Questions?

Until we meet again!!!