48: Unfinished Legacies

Arlen Ackerman stood tall at the entrance of the Ackerman Clan House, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor as he walked through the vast halls.

His presence alone was enough to shift the atmosphere, the air growing heavier with the weight of his lineage.

As the eldest son of the current head of the Ackerman clan, he carried with him the expectations of his ancestors, and the fear that his mere presence could invoke.

The Ackerman clan was one of the oldest and most feared in the world, and Arlen was no exception. His body, sculpted by years of rigorous training and harsh discipline, radiated an aura of quiet power. His quirk, Chrono Shatter, had been both a blessing and a curse.

With the ability to manipulate time itself, Arlen was capable of both devastating speed and the terrifying potential to fracture reality around him.

His mind and body had been shaped to handle the strain, but the toll it took on him was great, each use leaving him drained and vulnerable.

He had been away for some time, but his father's latest order had him returning to the clan's ancestral home. There was a job to be done, and the Ackerman clan did not tolerate failure.

As he entered his mother's chambers, she looked up from the delicate scrolls she had been reading, her expression calm, yet wary. Arlen could see the slight concern in her eyes, the unspoken question hanging in the air. She knew what it meant when Arlen was summoned.

"Arlen," she said, her voice measured. "I heard about your release. I assume this isn't a social visit."

"No, Mother," he replied, his tone respectful yet firm. "King Max has tasked me with a mission. I'm to travel to Japan to eliminate any threats to Aiden's safety."

Elvida's expression didn't change, though her fingers tapped lightly against the desk. "Aiden," she murmured. "The young prince. He's drawn more attention than is wise."

"He's a target," Arlen said bluntly. "And Max doesn't trust anyone else to ensure his safety."

Elvida studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp and calculating. "You've been given a heavy task, my son. Protecting someone like Aiden means drawing the ire of powerful enemies. Are you prepared for what's to come?"

"I am," Arlen said without hesitation. "This is my duty, and I will not fail."

"Take care of yourself," she said softly. "And remember, the clan needs you. You are not just a weapon, Arlen. You are the future of the Ackerman legacy."

Arlen's lips twitched into a rare, almost imperceptible smile. "I will return, Mother. I always do."

With that, he turned and left the room, his footsteps heavy as he made his way to his personal quarters. The Ackerman clan house was large, its dark stone walls a stark reminder of the clan's history.

It was a place that held both reverence and fear, and even Arlen, the strongest of them all, had to acknowledge the weight of his lineage.

Entering his room, Arlen took a moment to survey the space. It was minimalist, with only the essentials.

His bed was a simple platform, his desk organized with various weapons and tools that had been carefully curated over the years. The room had a cold, efficient feel to it—reflecting the way Arlen had been raised.

His life had been molded by combat, discipline, and the relentless pursuit of perfection.

The walls were adorned with weapons, each one more lethal than the last. His most prized possession, however, was the blade that hung on the wall opposite his bed.

It was a family heirloom, passed down through generations of Ackermans, and it had been forged with the finest steel. The hilt was engraved with the clan's crest, a symbol of the immense power and bloodshed that came with being an Ackerman.

Arlen reached out and touched the blade, the cool steel sending a shiver through his fingers. He had been taught to respect weapons, but never to become too attached.

But this blade was different—it held the legacy of his family, the legacy he was bound to uphold.

Shaking off the momentary pause, he moved to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room. Inside, he found his combat gear, a sleek black suit made of reinforced material designed to withstand both physical and temporal strain.

The suit was fitted with various gadgets and tools, all of which had been carefully tailored for his unique abilities. At his side, a sheath held the family blade, ready for battle.

But it wasn't just his gear he needed. He opened a hidden compartment in the wall, revealing a sleek, custom-made device. The device, though small, was capable of enhancing his quirk, allowing him to control the fluctuations in time with even greater precision.

It was dangerous—Arlen had to be careful with it—but it was necessary for the mission ahead. His enemies wouldn't stand a chance if he could manipulate time on a greater scale.

After arming himself with the necessary tools, he donned his gear and secured the blade at his side. His transformation from a member of the Ackerman clan to a lethal operative was complete.

With a final glance at the room he had spent his life in, Arlen turned and left, his eyes focused on the task ahead.

The military hangar buzzed with activity as personnel moved to and fro, preparing for Arlen's departure. The sleek black jet that would take him to Japan sat in the centre, its engines already humming softly.

Arlen strode through the hangar with purpose, his presence drawing the attention of soldiers and staff alike. Conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to him as he passed.

He was a living legend among them, a warrior whose skills were unmatched, and whose quirk made him nearly unstoppable.

The commanding officer approached him, saluting sharply. "Sir, your jet is ready for departure. Everything has been prepared according to your specifications."

"Good," Arlen said curtly. "I'll be boarding shortly."

As the officer stepped away, Arlen took a moment to survey the scene. The weight of his mission loomed over him, but he welcomed it. This was what he was born for—this was what it meant to be an Ackerman.

He placed a hand on the hilt of his katana, his mind already focused on the task ahead. "Japan," he murmured to himself. "Let's see who dares to threaten the prince."

With that, he ascended the steps of the jet, the door closing behind him. As the engines roared to life, Arlen settled into his seat, his golden eyes gleaming with determination.

The mission had begun.

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The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of medical monitors and the rhythmic beeping of machines that sustained the shattered form of All For One.

The air was thick with sterilised stillness, and a faint mechanical hum reverberated through the walls, underscoring the ominous presence of the man once feared as the embodiment of evil.

Tubes snaked from his body, feeding him life-support fluids, while his disfigured visage, hidden beneath a mask, radiated malevolence despite its frailty.

Across the room, Dr. Kyudai Garaki, the ever-loyal and sinister scientist, fiddled with a set of syringes and vials containing a cocktail of serums. His diminutive frame was cloaked in a white lab coat, and his unnervingly gleeful expression remained as grotesque as the nature of his experiments.

"The mercenaries failed," All For One rasped, his voice distorted and echoing with a sinister weight. Though weak in appearance, his words carried a commanding authority that demanded Garaki's immediate attention.

Garaki stopped his work and turned, his perpetually hunched figure twitching with nervous energy. "Yes, my lord, I heard. It seems they underestimated the boy… and his companions."

"Underestimated?" All For One growled, the sound causing the monitors to spike for a brief second. "No. They were fools. Incompetent pawns, easily crushed underfoot by a child. His child."

Garaki shuffled closer, his movements accompanied by the rustle of his coat. "The reports indicate the prince's abilities are evolving rapidly. His quirk, is... formidable, my lord."

All For One's fingers twitched, his mind burning with thoughts of revenge and frustration. "Formidable is an understatement. Maximilian's power flows through that boy, just as it did through him. A power I have felt firsthand."

(A/N: A man as old as All for One ought to know that the power of the royal family is hereditary despite records of such power being nearly non-existant out of Paradis)

A heavy silence filled the room as All For One's thoughts turned inward. For a moment, his breathing became uneven, though whether it was due to his rage or his condition, even Garaki couldn't say.

After a long pause, All For One spoke again, his tone colder. "Do you know why I am in this state, Garaki?"

The doctor hesitated, then nodded. "It was Toshinori, wasn't it, my lord? The Symbol of Peace dealt you this wound during your battle…"

"No," All For One interrupted, his voice sharp and laced with bitterness. "Toshinori simply worsened what had already been broken. The foundation of my defeat was laid long before that, by a man who had no right wielding the power he held."

Garaki remained silent, sensing that All For One's words carried the weight of a story he rarely shared. The villain's voice dropped, quieter but no less menacing.

"Maximilian Fritz. King of Paradis. A titan in both name and power." All For One spat the words as though they were venom. "It was decades ago, long before Toshinori ever became a nuisance. I sought the power of the titans—a quirk unlike any other, one that shaped realities and rewrote fates. I believed it belonged in my hands, to be used as I saw fit. So I went to Paradis, confident that I could wrest it from its keeper."

He paused, the memory clearly gnawing at him. "But I was wrong."

Garaki's eyes widened. "You mean... Maximilian confronted you himself?"

All For One let out a low, guttural laugh that sounded more like a growl. "Confronted me? No. He decimated me. The moment I set foot in his presence, it was as though reality itself turned against me. Every move I made was countered before I even thought of it. Every plan, every strategy... undone. His quirk wasn't just power; it was omnipotence, Garaki. I was reduced to nothing more than a rag doll in his hands."

The villain clenched his fist weakly, the tubes attached to him trembling. "He didn't even see me as a threat. He humiliated me. Crushed me so completely that my body was left broken beyond repair. It took every ounce of my stolen quirks to crawl away from that encounter alive. And even then... I was a shadow of my former self."

Garaki remained still, a rare look of unease crossing his grotesque face. "My lord, I had no idea—"

"Of course you didn't," All For One snapped. "I don't speak of that day. Not to anyone. The world believes Toshinori did this to me. Let them. But the truth... the truth is far worse."

He fell silent for a moment, his breathing laboured as the memories consumed him. Then, with renewed malice, he continued.

"Maximilian thought he was merciful by sparing me. By letting me live. But he made a mistake. He allowed me to survive, and I have spent every waking moment since plotting my revenge."

Garaki nodded slowly. "And now... the prince, Aiden, carries that same power. A chance for you to strike where it will hurt Maximilian most."

"Yes," All For One hissed, his tone dripping with hatred. "The boy is my key. Maximilian's pride is his legacy, his family. If I destroy that boy, I destroy the man who broke me. He will know pain. He will know loss. And he will know that I am the one who delivered it."

The monitors around the room beeped more frantically as All For One's emotions flared. Garaki moved closer, placing a hand on the edge of the villain's chair.

"But the boy is strong, my lord. Stronger than the mercenaries could handle."

All For One's lips curled beneath his mask in a dark grin. "Then I will send stronger. If mercenaries won't suffice, I will unleash hell itself upon him. There are forces in this world—quirks and monsters—that even Maximilian cannot shield his son from."

Garaki's eyes gleamed with a sadistic excitement. "Shall I begin preparations, my lord?"

"Yes," All For One rasped. "But this time, we will not rely on brute strength alone. We will outthink him. Outmaneuver him. Let him grow comfortable in his safety, believing he has thwarted us. And then... we will strike where it hurts most."

The doctor bowed slightly, a twisted smile on his face as he turned to leave the room. Behind him, All For One sat in his chair, his body broken but his mind burning with determination.

The faint hum of his machines filled the room once more, a cruel symphony accompanying his sinister thoughts.

As the door closed behind Garaki, All For One let out a low, hollow laugh. "Maximilian... you should have killed me when you had the chance. But now, your son will pay the price for your mistake."

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