Inheritance of Giants

The Chain

It was then that Izuku realized that the being in front of him was not eyeless. He watched the glowing sockets open to red glowing eyes with a pitch black iris.

"Oh, you remind me of Dr. Midoriya," The being said with a tilt of its head, like a curious puppy. "That means you must be her son. Well, this is a predicament. Your room was on the other side of HQ, and yet you've made your way here... again if I hear you correctly?"

Izuku shrank back half a step. "You... know my mom?"

The Ood's head tilted again, the tendrils twitching in faint amusement.

"Yes, well, it is a mutual exchange," the being continued. "You see, I am... well, I'm sorry, but I believe it best to rip the band aid off for you, as humans say. I am, in fact, not human."

"Wh- what?"

"Yes, as hard as it is to believe, I am not human, but of an intergalactic species called an 'Ood,'" it said proudly, as if unveiling a cherished badge. "Though I have been advised to avoid stating that outright. Apparently, it unnerves the newer staff."

Izuku stared. "I... I kinda figured that out already."

The Ood blinked its glowing eyes slowly, as if taking offense, but not enough to do anything about it.

"Ah. You're perceptive. That's good. Most children run or cry. Occasionally throw snacks. You, however—" it leaned forward slightly, the neural orb glowing warm— "you ask questions."

Izuku shifted nervously. "I don't mean to break rules. I just— the music. It's important. I know it is."

The Ood straightened and nodded once, as though that settled something ancient inside its memory.

"Yes," it murmured. "That was what made me not report you the first time."

Izuku's eyes widened. "The first time?"

"Oh yes. You've sleepwalked here before. Three times, actually." It gestured vaguely with its translator orb. "The first, you mumbled names in a language I do not know. The second, you wept while holding a single headphone wire. The third, you simply stood there. Motionless. Listening."

"...But I don't remember that."

The Ood nodded solemnly. "No. But the device does."

A flicker of light passed through the MP3 player — almost like it had pulsed in agreement.

Izuku turned to look at it, then back to the Ood.

"...Are you going to stop me?"

The Ood tilted its head again — but this time, slower. Thoughtful. Then, with a long, low breath that sounded like wind escaping a canyon, it answered:

"No. But I will listen."

It gestured again toward the containment dome.

"One track. One truth. And if you begin to fracture — I will catch you."

Izuku nodded, stepping closer. Heart pounding. Breath shallow. Fingers trembling.

But certain.

His hand passed through the small Spacium barrier with ease or injury, making the Ood tilt his head again, its robotic voice murmuring, "Interesting."

Then, as Izuku pressed play on the record, his consciousness was immediately absorbed into the MP3 Player once again.

A figure crouched at Izuku's side, catching him before the Ood could move. Pale arms. Unblinking eyes. A touch that was gentle in the way fire might gently lick at paper before the flame takes.