Chapter 3: Tenko's Decay, Shigaraki's Rise.

Tenko ran in a panic. Everything around him was unfamiliar and a blur. He just wanted to escape and find a public area where heroes could save him. He ran and descended until he arrived at a bustling market and crowd. The sights and smells overtook him instantly. He should have been happy, but he was not; no, he felt more scared and lost. This was not the home he remembered at all.

"Help! Help me!" Tenko's voice wailed as he fell to the ground in the middle of the street, but no one stopped for him. Some even looked greedily at him. After a bit of time, three individuals made a move, closing in on him.

"Are you here to help me." Tenko raised his snot-filled face to the oncoming trio.,

"Help? Bobby, you hear what he said? Hahahaha! Boy, I am robbing you."

"Rob…" Tenko mumbled, then looked at the passerby who just watched in amusement, 

'Hero, where are the heroes…' his mind darkening, the light of heroes and excitement he had for them with Hana started to fade, the smiling of her face fragmented to her decaying, 'Why...' before it swallowed him entirely, a voice rang out.

"The enforcers are down here? The Piltie police are back. I wonder who they came for." Then, some more whispers followed, and the men who were originally going to rob Tenko stopped and stood back in a bit of worry. 

No one wanted to mess with Enforcers if not needed. Although the people in the lanes wouldn't allow them to bully others, they still would rather watch a show,

Tenko's eyes fell on the striking bronze armour once more, recalling memories of the attack and the chase. Fear gripped him, but then he remembered the world police, the good guys. Perhaps those he had seen earlier were just criminals in disguise. With this thought, Tenko opened his mouth,

"Help... Please... I don't belong here." Tenko's voice rose through the loud noises, halting the advancing Enforcers. Five of them stood just in front of Tenko, the one in front empty-handed, looking to his left at his following companion, who then gave him a gun. 

The onlookers felt the situation change, and some even started to pull out their weapons, which halted the one in front for a bit before turning the gun muzzle toward himself and then butting Tenko with the tail-end of the gun, 

Tenkos head rang out, the memory of his father's hit emerged in his brain, then, like before, he also killed them. Finally the last illusion he clung to was gone… darkness had now swallowed him.

The crowds around him slowly turned into the individual spirits of his family, each one looking scary and vicious. 'If you have nothing left, why even bother? Just destroy them all. Kill them all; your power is made for it. You were meant to be alone; everyone who is close to you will die a horrible death.' 

The echoes of his family's words surrounded him, mocking him. Tenko desperately clawed at his face in pain, yet no one intervened, even after the enforcers stepped away. They gave small bribes to those willing to stand up. This scene unfolded through Tenko's fading vision.

'Heroes… I hate them all…' 

The original robbers returned, but a lean figure intervened before they could seize Tenko. This person shone like a light in Tenko's dark world; it was Silco, the same man who had spoken to him earlier. 

At that moment, it felt like just the two of them existed in this world together.

Silco knelt before Tenko, his gaze unwavering. With surprising gentleness, he reached out and wiped the tears streaking down Tenko's cheeks, his thumb lingering as though trying to soothe the storm inside the boy. The touch was like the cold, distant hand of his father. Yet, at that moment, it felt as though the broken heart in Tenko's chest beat once more, just for a moment.

"Do you understand now, Tenko?" Silco's voice was gentle, infused with an unusual blend of compassion and authority. This tone didn't command attention; it encouraged it.

"Look at me." Silco's soft voice overshadowed everything else. It was compelling, like gravity drawing Tenko closer to him. He felt an urge to listen; he had to. In the unrelenting darkness, this man shone like the only constant light.

"Tenko, do you understand now?" Silco repeated, his tone steadfast yet not unkind.

Tenko's voice was barely a whisper, the weight of the truth choking him. "Y-yes," he stammered. The admission felt like shards of glass scraping against his throat. His lip quivered, his eyes squeezing shut against the reality clawing its way into him.

"Yes," Silco said, his word cut through Tenko's fragile state. "Whatever happened…it's real." His voice was firm now, grounding Tenko in a truth too painful to accept. Tenko flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but Silco's hand didn't let go. It anchored him and forced him to confront the raw grief bubbling to the surface.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Silco said, his voice dipping to a quieter register. "Loss, betrayal... it hurts more than anything else. I know." He leaned closer, his single eye piercing Tenko's shattered soul. "But you must wake up now. You must stop running."

Fresh tears flowed down Tenko's face as a change took hold. The truth he had long evaded was now unavoidable. Silco's words sliced through the final layers of denial, revealing the painful wound underneath.

"You killed them, Tenko," Silco said, and the finality in his voice was like a death knell. "They're gone. They will never come back."

"NO!" The word tore from Tenko's throat in a guttural scream, his trembling body exploding with rage. His hand shot forward, fingers outstretched toward Silco.

Yet Silco remained unfazed. The world fell silent, and only Silco's voice echoed back to Tenko's ears.

"See?" he stated, his voice sharp and clear, piercing through the fog of Tenko's anger. "This is the real you."

Tenko stood still, his hand hovering just inches from Silco's face. Trembling violently, his fingers felt the thrill clash with deep guilt and despair. His expression twisted, caught between a sob and a smile. One side of his face was soaked with tears, while the other distorted into an unsettling grin.

Silco didn't recoil. Instead, he did the unthinkable.

Ignoring the outstretched hand, he leaned in and hugged Tenko in a firm, resolute embrace- the type Tenko had only imagined.

Tenko's hands dropped uselessly to his sides, grasping at nothing. Silco's arms around him felt both stabilizing and devastating. A flood of memories washed over him, images of a father who should have filled this role. Yet, his father's form faded, merging with Silco's. One had loomed over him with judgment and violence while the other knelt beside him and held him close.

It broke him completely.

They stayed like that for a time, Tenko trembling, his tears soaking into Silco's coat. Silco held him without speaking, waiting for the boy's sobs to subside. When Tenko's crying finally ceased, Silco pulled back and stood up, his hands settling firmly on the boy's shoulders. His one good eye locked on Tenko's face, searching it with a gentleness that reminded Tenko of his mother.

"Listen to me, Tenko," Silco said, his voice calm and steady, similar to the soft whisper of a river. "You've been carrying a weight no child should bear. And that weight… it's crushed the boy you used to be."

Tenko's throat choked. He wanted to speak, to deny it, but no words came. Deep down, he knew Silco was right.

"You can't keep clinging to that name, that life," Silco continued. "Tenko… is gone. The world took him from you. It tore him apart and left nothing but ashes."

Tears wanted to fall again, but Silco's grip on his shoulders tightened, not unkindly, but with an anchor's firmness. "But that doesn't mean you're finished. Not yet." His voice softened, filled with something Tenko couldn't place: it was warmth. "You survived, didn't you? And you'll do more than survive. You'll rise."

Tenko looked up at him, his wide, tear-streaked eyes searching Silco's face. "How? How am I supposed to rise when there's nothing left?" His voice cracked, and the weight of his despair pressed down on every word.

Silco knelt again, his scarred face level with Tenko's. "By leaving the past behind. You'll take a new name. A new life." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "Names have power, Tenko. They shape who we are. And you… you need a name that tells the world you won't be broken again."

Tenko's mind raced. "A name?"

"Yes," Silco said softly. "A name that ties you to something greater. Something stronger. Something enduring." He leaned closer, his eye narrowing with a fatherly intensity. "Shigaraki."

Tenko froze, the unfamiliar word hanging heavy in the air. "Shigaraki?" he repeated, his voice uncertain, fragile.

Silco nodded, a faint, nostalgic smile spreading across his lips. "It's an ancient name, one I recognize from the history of Zaun. Shigaraki used to be a district, a place lost to time under the city we inhabit today. Though it was worn by the ages and neglected by those above, it persisted. It symbolized those who had nothing except each other and their resilience to endure." His tone softened, imbued with gentle pride. "Just like us."

Tenko's chest tightened as Silco's words sank in. Shigaraki. A name born of ruin, yet unbroken. A name tied to the place Silco spoke of with such reverence, to Zaun itself. It felt foreign, but it also felt right.

"Shigaraki…" he murmured again, the name lingering on his tongue. He looked up at Silco, his tears drying, his voice growing steadier. "Do you think… do you think I could really be that strong?"

Silco smiled wider, gently yet firmly cupping Tenko's face in his scarred hands. "I don't just think, boy. I know. You will surpass everyone. Stronger than Piltover. Stronger than the world that turned its back on you." Leaning in closer, his voice turned into a hushed whisper, as if he were sharing a secret. "You are Shigaraki. And Shigaraki will never fade from memory."

For a moment, Tenko… no, Shigaraki hesitated, caught between the broken pieces of who he was and the overwhelming promise of who he could become.

Silco's voice broke through the silence, steady and deliberate. "Since you are starting fresh, let me introduce myself properly. I am Silco, and I want to adopt you as my son. Will you accept me?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Silco's tone carried that same strange freshness, but beneath it was a deep, unwavering care that Shigaraki felt in his bones. He looked at Silco, his lips parting as if unsure how to form the words.

"Yes… Dad," Shigaraki said at last. The word felt unnatural, awkward, but he forced it out, his voice trembling with the effort.

Silco's smile was pure and warm, radiating pride and acceptance. It was unlike anything Shigaraki had ever known. For the first time, he felt seen. Validated. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to live up to that smile.

"Good," Silco said softly. "Now, let's go home… Son."

He released Shigaraki's shoulders, standing tall and turning toward the bustling streets of the Lanes. Shigaraki followed closely, his steps heavier and more deliberate. His crimson eyes scanned the downtrodden faces around him, reminiscent of his own not long ago. Thoughts twisted with simmering rage; part of him longed to tear it all apart, to break the cycle that had ruined him. Yet, deep inside, a remnant of Tenko remained, dull and persistent, refusing to let go.

And then, it happened.

A slight push from behind made him stumble. He turned quickly, scanning his surroundings, but the bustling streets of Zaun blurred into nothingness. The world around him vanished, replaced by a suffocating void, cold and familiar. His breath hitched as he saw them.

Hana. His mother. His father.

They stood there, smiling at him, their faces soft and kind. His heart clenched, a mix of grief and anger threatening to overwhelm him. Then, he saw something else, himself. A boy with black hair and wide, innocent eyes. Tenko.

The boy ran to them, his small hands reaching eagerly for theirs. As he took them, he turned back, looking at Shigaraki with a quiet, lingering gaze. For a brief moment, the two locked eyes… past and present meeting in a fractured mirror.

And then Shigaraki laughed.

It was a sharp, bitter sound filled with scorn. A mocking edge laced his tone as he called out, "Go on, take their hands. They're yours now."

The boy blinked, uncertain, but Shigaraki smirked coldly. "You've got my blessing," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "Take it. Take them. Go live your happy little life."

Tenko's small form faltered for a moment, but then he smiled faintly, his gaze softening. Without a word, he turned back to Hana and their parents. They began to fade, their figures dissolving into the void. The boy didn't look back again.

Shigaraki stood alone, the echoes of his laughter fading with them. The faint tug in his chest vanished, leaving only a hollow stillness. The past was gone, fully severed. Tenko Shimura was no more.

Shigaraki turned and began walking, his pace steady, his eyes sharp. His lips curled into a grim smile as he caught up to Silco, who waited just ahead.

He was no longer the boy defined by tragedy. He was Shigaraki, the son of Silco, and the world would soon know this.