18 Chapter 18: Solomon Crane

Life is an unfair wasteland of false hopes and corruptions and not all men are created equal.

I could go on and on about the 'oh woe is me' type of shit but I rather not. My name is Solomon Crane and my story is not a pretty one. I was born in Los Angeles, California and was homeless until sixteen years old.

From what my mom told me, when she was lucid, we had a good life going for us in the suburbs. That was until my Dad was killed in the line of duty over in the middle east. He was a marine and served two tours before he met my mom. She was a bartender at one of the bars near the base he was stationed at. They fell in love after my Dad persisted in asking her out. He introduced himself as Frank and left it at that. Two years later they were married and had me. He died when I was two and since then my mom spiraled out of control with drugs and alcohol. She sold the house and from there we moved from place to place, never staying in one place for too long.

I had my first fight at the age of five with another homeless man for a plate of uneaten food that was in the dumpster behind an Italian restaurant in Las Vegas, Nevada. I remembered feeling his fist into my face and the sharp broken glass bottle being lodged into his gut. I was always considered a scrapper, a fighter, and I prided myself on that. It was how I earned most of the money that I had. It either that or pick-pocketing, which also led me to my master whose wallet I managed to steal when we 'accidentally' bumped into each other. He was a tall muscularly built old man with streaks of dark red hair in his white mane. He caught me and after hearing why I was stealing, took me to his dojo where he told me that was where I was staying.

My mom never even knew I was there as she was in one of her binge highs. The martial arts teacher was named Baki, 'weird name', and he said that he was going to train me. I accepted it as that meant I got free food and a new home to sleep in. I know that I shouldn't have trusted him, but hey I was barely eight and desperate. By the third month of training, my mom found me and Baki sparring each other. She freaked out and attacked him which somehow worked as she got a solid right cross into his jaw that laid him out. When he woke up, he found both my mother looking down at him worried that she accidentally killed him.

Now my mother is a beautiful woman, even with her nasty drug habit, she took great care for me and herself whenever we scrounged enough money to sleep in a motel 6. Her midnight black hair, dark starless sky black eyes, tan skin, and a nice body made her a stunning woman. She learned to defend herself from my Dad and I guess I had his talent and dark blue eyes. She introduced herself as Laura Crane and me as Solomon. From there, we had a weird dysfunctional family dynamic going on.

Baki made me balance school work and training as much as possible which looking back on, I really do appreciate that he did. This life didn't last long as Baki died from old age when I was twelve. We stayed in his home as I continued training and going to school with the money he left behind for the both of us. My mom managed to get a job as a manager of a bar and would work the night shifts.

...

By the time I was sixteen, we were kicked out of the dojo by the government and moved to New York, but that didn't matter as I got permission from my high school to work. I started in a factory/meatpacking warehouse where I used my strong body to lift meat onto shipment boxes or carry said boxes over to the trucks. It was brutal and a physically demanding job but the pay was pretty good. My mother got herself a job in a pet shop working some weird hours. We managed to score us a cheap apartment and lived there for a while.

The following year I joined the marines as well. I was not good enough for the air force and college life wasn't for me. My mom freaked when she heard my decision and wouldn't stop crying while talking in Spanish about losing me like how she lost Dad. I felt bad about it but I knew that I had to do something to keep the memory of my dad and Baki alive. Joining was a weird experience as I was probably the youngest guy in the camp, but had the body that put most of those special forces guys to shame.

I served for two tours in the marines like my father before I was selected to join the Special forces known as MARSOC. The training was torture as I was put under both physical and psychological pressure to be the best of the best. After another two years of training, I became a marine raider and my mom told me she got remarried to a man named Rocky, who was a retired boxer, now an Italian restaurant owner and they had a kid while I was in my second tour. It was a girl and she was an adorable little thing. Nowhere near the combativeness Rocky and I had at all, she was calm and docile, like an adorable panda. Her name was Katerina but I called her Kat. She had my mother's midnight black hair and eyes while she had my stepdad's stubborn attitude and ability to make anybody laugh.

From the moment I joined the marines, I felt like I was a Great White that was back in the ocean. The battlefield was my hunting spot and the enemy were my prey. I was given a code name entering the raiders, Reaper, and since then I represented it beautifully with killing enough people that the other raiders told me that I smelled like death outside of the battlefield. I stayed in combat until I was twenty eight years. A full decade of nothing but blood, gore, loss, and fighting. I kept my free time filled with either training, watching anime, reading comics and manga, or catching some tail whenever we ended up back in the states or a U.S friendly nation.

When I was finally out, I was heading over to my parents' house to celebrate my little sister's eighth birthday. That was when the car struck me, it all happened in slow motion as I looked into the driver's window to see a man dressed in a black tuxedo with sunglasses on. My final thought was 'Damn Kat is going to get pissed' and then darkness. From there you already know how that went, but not where I ended up.

You see I didn't end up in Izuku's body like I thought would have happened. Instead, I was back over five hundred years in the past, maybe more as I never once seen a calendar. I kept my old name and was in an eighteen year old body of me in the past. I felt the connection to the force in me as well in some others. From there I knew what I needed to do.

...

I created a family of force users who all shared my blood. Of course in-fighting began after a decade of living and the dark side users began the branch family of my blood. A secret war between us began and the world was in-between it all. By the time quirks came along I was already on my last legs of this old life with my children hovering over me. Mainly Revan and Luke as they were from the main and branch families who held their own philosophies of the Force. I knew that my family will die out and that the force users will be no more from there. How did I know? The Force told me itself that my family is the only reason why the force is in this universe. So with the last of my concentration, I made myself a force spirit and trapped myself in the genes of my family until I found the one that is supposed to hold the maximum potential and power of us all including me.

When Izuku was finally born, I was ecstatic as I couldn't believe it took until Inko left the family with Hisashi, who was surprisingly a long lost branch family of mine who learned pyrokinesis. I couldn't enter into Izuku yet as his body and mind were not ready so I watched and waited with baited breathe to be absorbed into him. My anger at watching my successor be bullied hurt me so much that when he turned eight I knew it was time and came into his being. My soul was merged with his, he gained my potential and healing factor along with the protection from quirk stealers, copiers, duplicates and so on. I remained in his mindscape as a sort of mentor as I gave him training in the forms of Revan and Luke's memories.

...

This kid finally mastered his emotions now I can fully help him in the endeavor of being this world's greatest hero. I guess my sense of justice and killing mindset merged with him too as he took a long forgotten path to becoming a hero.

...

What the fuck did this little shit just say! As if we had no idea of unfairness! Did he have to kill multiple family members who were trying to kill everyone in their psychotic rage? Did he have to scrap for food and fight hobos when he was a child? I switched over my and Izuku's consciousness as he was exhausted from the fight with Stain and the battle of wills with his emotions.

After saying my piece I went back inside where I met a confused Izuku who looked at me. I smiled and said, "Hello Izuku. You may not know me, but I am your ancestor. The first gray and the man who will be training you in the ways of the gray."

While we were inside the mindscape, neither of noticed that we have been moved into a hospital being analyzed by All Might and a man sized dog.

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