The Spirit of the Shield wanted Iwatani Naofumi, a twenty year old Japanese college student. Instead it got Naofumi Vincent Iwatani, twenty-eight year old mercenary from Night City. Can the world handle the Waves of Catastrophe, when they're forced to deal with the waves made by a renegade?

"A 'Hero' shouldn't just be their power. Or How flashy they can be." Izuku stated, a glare in his eye. "Once upon a time, Heroes were a title given to someone who earned the name. That is what I want to be." The young man stared down the false idol that stood enraged before him. "The last thing I want, is to be some prick fake hero with a building busting quirk. A Hero like you."

In a thousand and one lives, Satou Kazuma's world was a comedy of errors. A parody of things all to common with those who create. In this world, things were a little more... Standard. Sensible. Serious. A reason to be a shut in, to block out the outside. A respectable sacrifice, rather than dying a joke. A life while lonely, was worthwhile. What hero would that make?

No matter how obscure or powerful, one truth is universal among the gods: They desire entertainment. While some manifested in the mortal world to seek new thrills, some stayed in the heavens to watch the show unfold. For one god, the decent of his kin led to a revelation and desires. Ones that could be sated by poking at the destined paths of a little rabbit.

"In thousands of Iterations, you scorned the child." The Fair Laday scolded, "You alone make it a trait that in his youth he must suffer. Only your rarest versions prevented such evil. Now that I offer him power, protection, and love do you dare try to interfere?" She looked down upon them with scorn. "No, not this time. He will love this world, or I will see it end."