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Yuki Arakawa swept through the hallways of UA high with the poise of someone very much used to the campus. It was the start of a new school year, even third years like her were excited at the thought of learning here, Whether they were of the hero course or not.
But she, she had other problems weighing her mind.
She sighed and ignored the sun blaring in through the large window pane as she walked forward. Her long curly hair cascaded down her back in dark waves, catching the light with a soft sheen, while her bright purple eyes pierced through the bustling crowd of students around her.
Her boots clicked on the well polished floor, brushing past students as well as the occasional flirtatious glances from the boys around her.
As Yuki turned the corner, she spotted a soft tussle of green curls, unmistakable. His freckled face was flushed from a conversation he was having while walking and talking with some friends, and he had a notebook in his hands clutched tightly to his chest.
Yuki's voice sliced through the ambient noise of the crowd. "Midoriya."
The boy now in front of her jumped, startled by her soft sounding voice.
Midoriya quickly jumped straight and turned around only to gain a familiar look in his eye before he gave a slight bow and fumbled out. "A-Arakawa-senpai!" He blurted it out in a high enough pitch that she took a slight step back. "I almost forgot you attend UA. Nice to see you again..."
"I need you to go and get Bakugou, I need to tell you to something."
His right eyebrow raised and he seemed a little worried, he didn't ask any questions though which was good for her. A short minute later Midoriya came to her spot in the cafeteria seemingly dragging Bakugou along by his arm. Bakugou had a mean scowl on his face and looked like he was going to get sick on the shorter and more timid child just for touching him.
"Wow, It really is a surprise to see you two here." Yuki started disregarding any pleasantries.
Bakugou's scoffed loud enough for her to hear. And then Yuki spoke again. "I've heard that you somehow got a quirk Midoriya." She gave a pointed look toward the boy shaking in his skin.
"I.. I mean... Yeah, it just awakened really late." He stuttered as he eventually let go of Bakugou and started shifting around in place.
"And you Bakugou, I thought your crappy attitude alone would get you excluded."
Bakugou gained a wicked look on his face before pointing at her and yelling with venom in his voice. "The hell did you drag me away from my lunch for Arakawa!"
'As loud as ever.'
Yuki then gained a softer look on her face as she recollected on her thoughts on what she wanted to say to them. She wished it could have just stopped at the acknowledgement of them making it in to UA. A proper congratulations maybe, but no.
"You remember my brother right. Kobe." They both nodded, Bakugou sneered.
"Well he's missing."Bakugou's jaw tightened and Midoriya's eye's widened at the revelation.
"He's stubborn. He just walked out a few weeks ago and still hasn't returned. Selfish, and too arrogant for his own good." She said that last part with a more silent tone but it was still heard by the two boys.
Midoriya, bless him, seemed more broken up by it, more than Yuki thinks he ever should.
"Arakawa-senpai, do you think he's okay? Did he say anything before he left?"
Yuki shrugged, her expression unreadable."He hasn't said much of anything since he got back from the behavioral program a couple years ago. We've alerted police, my Ma just said that you guys should know since you've had a past with him."
Her gaze lingered on them. In all the years she has known Bakugou she had never heard him be so quiet. It was almost alarming.A mixture of grief and annoyance clouded her mind when she looked over to Midoriya though, not because of him, it was because of Kobe. Her spoiled little brother. She felt bad whenever she thought of the interactions that went on between her brother and Midoriya.
He was rude, obnoxious and just a downright bully. Kind of like Bakugou, but there just seemed to be a cold wickedness whenever she thought of how Kobe acted.
"I hope you find him." She wishes she could see that kindness in him that is so clearly evident in the boy in front of her.
"So do I."___The rain had stopped, leaving the world smelling clean but fragile. I sat up in the bed, the sheet's crumpled around me, my gaze falling to the window. Outside, the streets glistened, reflecting a sun that was just beginning to rise. A new day.
Before I could gather my thoughts, the door creaked open, and small, quick footsteps pattered towards me.
"Mister! Breakfast is ready!"
I looked over to see the kid from last night, grinning at me like I was worth grinning at. He'd lost his way home in the storm last night, wandering out too far. I certainly wasn't planning to stay at an orphanage but when I brought him and the head matron figured out that I had nowhere to stay she insisted that I get some rest.
What a kind lady.
"Morning." I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
The kid climbed onto the bed, uninvited, and plopped himself down, legs swinging. "You gonna eat with us? Saeko-san makes the best eggs!"
Saeko. That was the matrons name—kind eyes, tired face, probably in her late forties. She'd thanked me too many times last night, like she couldn't believe someone other than a hero would help her for nothing in return. I guess I seemed suspicious in a way.
"Sorry kid, I don't think I'll be staying long enough for breakfast." I said swinging my legs over to the side of the bed.
The kid tilted his head, his smile faltering. "Why not? You don't have anywhere else to go do you?"
I chuckled, it was a low and bitter one. "Plenty of places, just none where I want to be."
That seemed to confuse him but his face lit up again as if he'd found the perfect distraction. "I'm gonna be a hero someday you know."
A hero, the word hit me like cold water. My mind flickered to a now distant past. Back to training, unwanted training, to "Friends," Deku—Izuku Midoriya—and the way his eyes would shine when he spoke about being a hero. Even Bakugou and his relentless drive, something I never had.
Then I thought of myself, years ago, knocking him down for dreaming too big. Why was I like that? It make's little sense to me, and even thinking about it now just flares up some unwanted anger, rage.I looked back at the kid staring up at me.
"That so?" I said forcing a smirk.
"Yeah, like All Might! He's the strongest, and he saves everyone." The kids voice was so full of certainty that it made my chest tighten.
I didn't reply. What was there to say? That All Might wasn't invincible? That even heroes could fall apart? I wasn't about to crush a kids dream, but I didn't know whether I should encourage it either, so all that I did was smile.
The kid hopped off the bed, looking up at me expectantly, "You'd make a cool hero too, you're quirks awesome."
For a moment my mind froze, I didn't remember showing the kid my quirk. Until I did, it was the night before once I had found a dry enough place I showed him something to stop him from shaking in fear. He was scared that he wasn't home.Scared that he got lost, so I just did what I thought would work in that situation.
"You've got a wild imagination."
Before he could say more, I stood and grabbed my jumper. and headed out to the hallway. Saeko was waiting by the door, her arms crossed.
"Leaving already?" She asked, her tone was firm and gentle.
"Yeah," I replied avoiding her eyes. "Thanks for letting me stay the night."
"You could stay longer if you would like, Ken seems to really like you." I looked back to the dark haired boy and realized in slight frustration that I had forgotten to even ask his name.
Forgetting the basics is pathetic. Nothing to do about it now though.
"I don't think looking up to me is a good idea Ma'm. But thanks again."
She stood silent while looking me up and down, it felt awkward. I didn't like it, but she hadn't done anything inappropriate or unnecessary to me thus far so I didn't think there was anything to worry about much.
She opened her mouth to speak."Wherever you find yourself, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for."
She let me go past and out the door into the crisp morning sun.
'Whatever I'm looking for,' I don't even know what it is I'm looking for. Kobe patted down his pockets and seemed mildly disappointed.
"Right now, I'm broke. So money is what I should be looking for."
Money comes and goes, I need it for immediate expenses, like food, getting my hair done, and of course a place to stay. 'You could just go home,'
The thought slithers into my mind like a cold draft, uninvited and unwelcome. I didn't like the thought.
My lips twisted into a bitter smirk, sure I could go home, but after so many years away from there and with very little contact with my family, it didn't even feel like a home anymore.
My mother, she just brushed over the fact that she sent me away to what she believes is was a behavioral facility to make me 'normal'. If only she knew.
"I don't know if I even blame her," I say in a low voice to no one.
Really and truly her giving me up felt like an easy decision in my eyes. I was the definition of a brat. I spoke back, I disobeyed orders, I fought, I stole, I fought, just about everything I shouldn't have been doing I done.
She probably got sick of me, when I got back it was easy to see the fake smile she put on whenever she spun around to greet me.
I felt like a burden. So I left, it only took a couple years but I made the decision and left again, for the last time hopefully.And don't even get me started on my sister. I still don't know how to feel about her, there's just a cold numbness whenever she is brought to my mind. At lest my mother pretended to care. With Yuki, there's nothing. Just that sharp way she looks at me as if I was something she needed to clean up. A mistake that should have disappeared with out father.
No, going back home isn't an option. Not now.***I'm standing in front of an old warehouse, It's facade faded and grimy, the kind no one looks twice at.This was the place I was looking for. A piece of paper was rumpled up in my hand containing the same name as what was being advertised in front of me.
I push the door open, and the noise hits me like a wave—cheers, jeers and the unmistakeable sound of fists meeting flesh. The air inside is mixed with sweat and desperation, tinged with the faint metallic tang of blood.
This is what I was looking for. An underground Fighting Arena.
The room is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a few industrial lights hanging above the makeshift ring in the center. The crowd presses close, a chaotic mix of spectators—some rowdy and drunk and others watching with a cold calculating interest, some with a more confident gaze.
I slip around to the edge of the crowd, taking in the scene. Two fighters in the ring, their quirks looked simple at first glance, well one of them anyway. The man with a tar-like substance coating his fists. The other one I guessed could have been a speedster since he would rush off to attack in quick bursts before stopping and gaining a normal speed.
"First time here?"The voice startles me. I turn to see a woman, her sharp blur eyes appraising me. She's older, maybe mid-thirties, dressed in a sharp suit that stands out in the dingy room.
"Something like that." I reply.
She smirks, "Looking to fight or just watch."
I hesitate, "Neither. I'm looking for someone who can get me work."
"Work huh?" Her gaze lingered on me as she pushed a long strand of her dark, oak-brown coloured hair out of her face. "What's your quirk?"
"Not looking to advertise." I say, keeping my voice low as the crowd quieted down in anticipation of the ongoing fight.
Her smirk widens. "Smart. Stick around," She gestures to the ring. "People talk after the fights. You might find what you're looking for."
And so I waited...***The air inside the warehouse felt thicker now, a mix of body heat, spilled drinks, and smoke clinging to dim light. The crowds shouts blur into a dull hum.
My gaze lingered on some more people in ill-fitting suits exchanging whispers like secrets. I had my ways of hearing them with my quirk, once it was attached I listened to the conversation ongoing. I heard words, and names that sparked some interest and familiarity within me.
Trigger.
"Did you hear of the new strain coming in?""Yeah from the Hassaiki. High risk, high reward. You've seen what it does to people it doesn't mix with right? People start losing control and popping off like balloons.""Governments starting to clamp down, but for now there's still money to be made. Doesn't matter who you know, just how much you're willing to pay."
My stomach churns, not from fear, but from the flickering curiosity that rises in me. I've heard of
Trigger before. Often connected with the underground. An illegal drug that enhances people's quirks, pushes them beyond normal limits. Dangerous. People are speaking of it like it's a secret weapon, but what is the cost of a secret weapon in this world?
Another man's voice joins the party, his tone bitter. "You think
Trigger's the answer? Nah, the real play is the
Hassaiki connection. People don't even know they're mixing it with something darker. Something... older."
"Older?" The voice of a woman now cuts in deep to question the former.
"Yeah," The man chuckles, "You don't think they just found this stuff by accident, do you? The Hassaiki's been around for decades, but this new
trigger... it's a goddamn power-up. And I'm guessing they've found something. Maybe some old research facility."
As I heard the tail end of the conversation and the whispers of a research facility my mind breaks away to thoughts of
Eden. Hidden, dangerous and fueled by power at any cost.
Trigger... Shie Hassaiki...Eden. The pieces didn't fit neatly together, but they're too close for my comfort.
I feel a presence close up on me, I turn around to see the same woman as before. She's watching with the same calculating gaze, the one that see's too much.
"Look's like you've found something that interests you." She says, her voice is smooth. "You know, there's more to the Hassaiki than just trigger. If you're smart you'll find the right people to deal with."
I swallowed hard,"What's the play?" I ask, my voice quieter, matching hers.
She smirks. "I'll give you a lead, but you'll have to make sure you're ready for what comes next."
She hands me a piece of paper, the ink smudged just enough to make it look like it's been passed around too many times.I glance down briefly at the address before pocketing it, it looked clean, too direct. Something's off. But it was my only lead, so without another word, I slipped the paper into my pocket and nodded.
"Thanks,"
Eden... The Shie Hassaiki...
Trigger. It was all a dangerous game, no... this world was a dangerous game. And I'm playing it whether I like it or not.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
My quirk was a powerful one, a unique one. It was called [Paper Master].I can create paper and telekinetically mold it into whatever shape I can think of, whatever I form takes on the function of what it resembles. A bird will fly, a knife will cut, and a shield... well, it'll block most things.
On the surface it sounds simple, maybe in the hands of someone else it could be almost harmless and left as a party trick. But when you're forced to push it—to train until your mind blurs and your hands bleed—it can become something else. Something they called,
potential.
The Eden Project taught me that. Or at least that's what they said they were teaching. But their version of teaching wasn't what the world would call a heroic effort or even plain diligent in any way.It was control, brutality and perfection. I was just a kid when I was dragged to that place. A loud, angry brat who didn't think twice about anyone but himself. When I could finally walk out of that place though, I wasn't loud anymore.
The Eden Project wasn't a place to be taught, it was a place to be conditioned. I'm sure that no one truly felt like a student there, just subjects. Subjects that they wanted to replace All Might.
Some days we were pit against one another. You'd learn quickly that trust was nothing but a liability. Lose and you were punished. Win and you were rewarded with cold approval and a temporary reprieve. The fights were never fair.
But the worst part was the silence. We were isolated, kept from forming bonds. Conversation was discouraged. The worst part of that was the fact that I got so comfortable in that silence. The anger was lost and replaced by numbness.
That may have been instinct, the easiest way to press on was to be uncaring to everything, even oneself.But that was the goal of the project. To turn potential into perfection. To forge unbreakable weapons. But perfection comes at a price. You can only forge something so much before it cracks.
I don't know how I avoided breaking completely. Whatever reason for them deciding to get me into their program, it didn't matter. By the time I was home, I wasn't angry, wasn't scared wither... just numb.
The Eden Project wasn't just a painful memory, it was a scar. Some days it burned more than others, like tonight as I walked through the dim streets of Kyushu. I got some spare change for doing some small favours while still around Musutafu so it should last some time.
The city at night felt suffocating. Neon signs buzzed overhead, casting fractured reflections on rain-slicked asphalt. The air was heavy with the lingering scent of rain, oil and a waft of the ocean. A mixture of life and decay hung in the atmosphere.
This wasn't the Kyushu people wrote about in travel brochures. No picturesque temples or serene gardens here, just cracked sidewalks and alleyways choked with secrets. The city had a unsteady pulse and I could feel it under my feet.
A man leaned against a wall, puffing a cigarette, his eyes scanning the street like a predator spotting the best spots his prey could appear from. Across from him, a group of young men argued in low, clipped tones, their voices too sharp and deliberate to be friendly.I caught snatches of their conversation: product, shipments, names I didn't recognize but filed away for later.
I walked past them keeping my pace steady, not too fast, not too slow. Eyes forward but not stiff. The trick was simply to look like you belonged without inviting attention. It was an instinct that I'd honed over the years.
The smell of dried food wafted from a nearby stall, a stark contrast to the stench of mildew that clung to the narrower alleys. The vendor was an old man with weathered hands, chatting with a woman who looked like she hadn't slept in days. Her laugh was brittle, and it cut off the moment a man with a scarred face walked by, his presence silencing everything in his path.
He glanced at me, a fleeting moment that felt like a warning, before disappearing into the night.
I turned and headed down an alley that was dimly lit by a single flickering lightbulb. My shoes splashed in puddles, the sound bouncing off the walls in the otherwise dreary quiet. The farther I went, the more the city seemed to fold in on itself.
A flicker of neon caught my eye, and I spotted a doorway just ahead. The muffled bass of music pulsed from behind it. A club, but not one listed on any of the maps. Places like these were where I could find secrets unknown to the public.
Two men loitered near the entrance, their postures casual but their eyes sharp. They didn't spare me more than a glance as I approached.The bar was dimly lit, with a haze of cigarette smoke clinging to the air like a second ceiling. And then conversation mixed with the clinking of glass. This wasn't a place for drunken revelry; Poker games occupied the center tables, with stacks of cash and chips casually strewn between players who looked far too calm for the amounts being wagered.
I leaned against the counter at the far end, sipping water. Even if I could, there was no point in dulling my senses here. My eyes scanned the room, catching fragments of conversations. It didn't take long before I locked onto a target: a young man with slicked back hair and a too-perfect leather jacket. His posture screamed over-confidence, his laughter too loud to be natural. He had an air of someone who thought he owned the world.
He was flanked by two others, but their presence was window-dressing. This guy was their ring leader. More importantly, I'd heard him speaking about distribution areas for
Trigger.
I pushed off the counter and moved toward their table, keeping my steps casual.
"Mind if I join?" I asked, my voice low but firm enough to catch their attention. I know it looked crazy for someone who looked like a kid to walk up to people like this, I was already on the shorter side of life. But I had walked in the bar with no problems so this should be fine.
The guy looked up, an eyebrow raised. "And who are you?"
I ignored the question and gestured to the empty chair across from him. "Just someone interested in your line of work."
That got his attention. His grin widened, and he leaned back, spreading his arms as if to say
I've got nothing to hide.
"Work huh? You in the market or just curious?"
"Call it research." I said, sliding into the chair. I kept my expression neutral, letting the silence stretch just long enough to unsettle him. "Heard you distribute
Trigger. Right?"
At that his grin faltered. His companions shifted uncomfortably. They were unexperienced. But he kept his cool. "You don't come in here asking about trigger man, Bad way to end a night."
"Relax." I said folding my hands on the table. "If I wanted trouble I wouldn't be talking. But I need information, and you seem like the type to deliver."
Best to play on his ego, there were many more in the room that looked better suited for such a conversation and he knew that. So it's best for him to believe that I thought he was the best option, not like he wasn't for me... he's dumb.
He narrowed his eyes. "You've got a real mouth on you for someone who doesn't know the rules."
"Maybe. Or maybe I know enough to find you interesting." My tone was even, almost bored. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a negative reaction from me.
He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. "You don't seem like the usual type. What's your angle?"
"My angle," I said leaning forward just enough to match him, "is figuring out how someone like you get's trusted to move product. Must have taken a lot to prove yourself to the boss."
That hit a nerve and there was a flicker of defensiveness on his face. "I'm trusted because I deliver. Got clients all over the city, different areas on different nights. It's about knowing your territory."
"Sounds complicated," I said, my voice laced with feigned admiration. "Must be hard to keep track of all the drop points, let alone the timing."
He snorted. "That's why I get paid the big bucks. Not everyone can handle the pressure."
I tilted my head, letting the silence stretch again. He was talking now, but I still needed specifics. "So, what's the secret? Certain areas better than others?"
He laughed, a sharp hollow sound. "You think I'm just gonna hand you my map? Get lost."
I felt a smirk creep onto my face, leaning back in my chair. "I think you want people to know how good you are. A guy like you shouldn't keep secrets for long."
His companions exchanged glances, clearly uncomfortable. The tension was thick, but I stayed calm, waiting him out. Finally he cracked, if only to show off.
"Fine. West district on Thursdays, South district on Saturdays. Happy now?" He spat the words like they were worthless, but they were what I needed.
"Ecstatic." I said, standing. "Pleasure doing business with you."___It was morning, I snuck my way into a cheap hotel and spent the night in one of the unused rooms. I would pay but that would be such a waste. After taking a quick shower I got out again.
The west district wore a different face in the light of the day, but it wasn't any softer. The sun was an unkind artist, highlighting every crack, every stain, everything that was carved onto the streets. The alleys still yawned with menace, everything felt more exposed.
My steps were unhurried, blending into the noise of the environment. To the untrained eye, the district might seem normal, a tangle of life without any rhyme or reason. But I saw the patterns, the rhythm beneath the chaos. Delivery trucks came and went with precise intervals. Vendors shouted at the right volumes to cover whispered conversations.A man with a polished briefcase lingered too long near a rundown corner store, his posture betraying an edge of unease,
I started at Shinji's, the same convenience store. The morning crowd was mundane enough, construction workers grabbing energy drinks, an old man buying cigarettes, a mother wrangling her toddler while stuffing groceries into a worn backpack.
People came and went, their purchases nondescript. No one lingered, not even to count their change. And then there were the one's who didn't buy anything at all.
I leaned against a lamppost pretending to scroll through my phone while my eyes tracked everything. A black van pulled up, its windows so dark they could've been painted. Two men emerged, one carrying a plain black box, the other keeping watch.
The exchange was quick. The box disappeared behind the counter, and the men were gone before the van's engine even cooled.Too quick and too clean.***A barbershop was my next stop. In the daylight it looked unassuming, old and with faded paint. The type of place that looked like it relied more so on regulars rather than walk-ins. Through the glass I caught a glance of that same scarred man from the night before. He sat in one of the chairs, but he wasn't getting his hair cut.
Three others surrounded him, their postures stiff with deference. They weren't here for fades and trims.
I lingered outside, pretending to check my reflection in the window. The conversation was muffled, but the body language was loud. The scarred man was in control, his gestures measured but commanding. The other's leaned in when he spoke, nodding like obedient soldiers.***By mid-afternoon, I'd pieced together enough of the puzzle to know where to press. The west districts eco-system operated like clockwork, and if I wanted answers, I'd need to find the right cog to jam.
That's when I saw him—a dealer.
He was standing near a fruit cart, gold chains catching the sunlight like bait. His posture screamed,
Look at me, and yet he was too conspicuous to be anything but another small time player.
I approached the cart, pretending to browse the fruit. The vendor took one look at me and greeted me with a forced smile, his eyes flicking nervously around.
"You got good oranges?" I asked keeping my tone casual and friendly.
"Best in the district." he replied with a tight voice.
The dealer chuckled and cut in to the conversation.
"You don't look like a local." His voice was dripping with mockery.
"Just passing through, I wanted to see what this city had to offer." I replied, not bothering to look up at him.
He laughed again, louder this time. "Oh, we've got all kinds of offerings. Depends on what you're looking for."
I turned to face him, expression neutral and balls of steel. "I heard trigger runs through here."
The laughter stopped and the man at the stall stilled, he was scared, he was just an innocent man then.
"That's not exactly public knowledge."
"Neither is your supplier," I fired back, nodding at his gold chains. "But you are here flaunting it like a billboard."
"You've got quite a sharp mouth." His bravado snapped.
"And you've got a fragile ego for a middleman." I said. "I'm not here to cause trouble, I just want information."
"What's in it for me?"
"Your teeth." I said flatly.
The silence lingered for a minute, I thought he'd test me. The poor man at the stall was shivering in his spot. Then the dealer, laughed, it was a forced and bitter laugh.
"You've got guts I'll give you that." he sighed, "What do you want to know?"
"Where do the shipments come in, and no vague answers."
"Shinji's, The barbershop closest to it as well as the docks."
Good, I tested him for those answers. I knew of the former two, but..."The docks?" I repeated. "What time?"
"Late. Midnight. They like to keep it quiet."
"I appreciate the tip."In quick motion I stepped in close and quickly knocked him out with a hard hit to the jugular. I would have to find a place to stash him, I wouldn't want him waking up too soon and alerting people that I was asking too much questions.
I patted down his pockets and pulled out a bid wad of cash. I then turned around the the fruit stall attendant. I took out a few bills and said."Nothing happened here right sir?"
He hesitantly took the money with shaky hands and nodded, he didn't say a word. And if things continued to go right, he wouldn't say a word.***
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The fog around the docks was thick, rolling over the water like an unseen monster, swallowing anything in it's path. I stood on a high point near the warehouses, my shoes were steady on the cold concrete.
A big 16 wheeler rolled into the bay and parked leaving it's engine on. I'd seen the guards, I'd also seen their sloppy postures, the way they never truly scanned their surroundings. That kind of complacency only came after doing the same monotonous drivel everyday. It was hard to shame.
I waited, watching the unloading process through a pair of binoculars I had made with paper while I crouched atop a container obscured by the smoke.
The men were careful as they pulled in boxes from a containment ship, it was almost ritualistic. I noticed a lack of chatter that I had almost come to expect.
The leader of this operation was a tall man, with a jagged scar across his left cheek. He spoke in clipped sentences, directing the unloading process with a harsh voice. His crew moved like clockwork.
"Alright."
I brought my binoculars down and clapped my hands, once they separated again, paper formed and it had taken the shape of a small bird. It's wings were barely fluttering as it took flight and hovered above the scene.
The truck rumbled away after the last crate was loaded. The shipment was moving into the city.
"Time to move."
I jumped high and on my back paper wings formed and I soared high in the sky, above the clouds. The smaller bird I created was keeping track while I stayed high up to avoid potentially being seen. You could never be too cautious.
We arrived at an unassuming building nestled behind a few warehouses. The place was almost invisible, tucked away from the street like a secret. Two guards stood at the entrance, one of them yawning, the other checking his watch. They barely glanced at the truck, only signalling for it to pass through the narrow gates.
I couldn't see inside, but the setup was easy enough to decipher. They were using the same quiet entry method to move the goods inside. That meant one thing: The contents weren't just valuable, they were dangerous.
As the truck entered, I moved closer to the buildings side. There was a window just high enough for me to peer through. I caught a glimpse of the warehouse floor, rows of crates stacked neatly in the back. A few men stood around speaking in hushed tones.
"Move it by morning, the boss is expecting a full inventory." One of them muttered. Another man, heavier and older, laughed.
"Yeah well, there better be a good excuse if it's late again."
I slipped in through a side door, never making a sound. I could hear men's voices in the distance, but they were too far to make anything out clearly. Moving with precision, I scanned the room. There were documents stacked near the back, scattered across a desk.
I decided to form a piece of paper in my hand and manipulated it's size into a razor-sharp, thin, sheet and sent it flying across the room. It hovered silently over the papers, copying every word, every detail dented itself onto the sheet.
Within seconds, I had everything. Shipment details, code words, names of people higher up in the operation too. And one name stood out clearly—Kai Chisaki. That was the yakuza boss known as Overhaul.
With the documents in hand I made my way over to the exit as the men continued their chatter. I had to move quickly now. There was too much information to process, and it was only a matter of time before they realized someone was poking around in their business.___I found my way back into the same small three star hotel room I had spent the previous night in. I realized that I was not alone, in fact it was that same dealer who was here with me. I couldn't find anywhere to stuff him so I thought it best to just keep him tied up in this hotel room.
Since he wouldn't stop mumbling I had to knock him out again and put him in the bathroom. He was stripped down to his underwear and only fed when necessary. Other than that he was kept tied up, since he was in the bathroom he could use it when he needed and struggle all day for all I care.
The room was simple, nothing special. The sheets were clean at least, but the bed was not as comfortable as the one's in the orphanage. But I shouldn't be complaining since I didn't even pay to get in.
I had set the documents out onto a desk and pulled out a pen tracing over all the outlines to make sense of it all.
The first page detailed logistics of Trigger distribution, the routes and names I already knew. But then there was something new, something different. An experimental compound being mixed into Trigger. It was a drug called
Delirium, a substance designed to amplify the effects of trigger,"That already sounds bad." Amplifying a drug meant to amplify quirks. That just sounds stupid.
But then I understood why people continued taking it. Delirium was like a second wind for whoever took it, strength, speed, agility, each hit felt like the body was on fire, a pure high that coursed through the veins like an electric jolt. And as the users body adapted they craved more.
It didn't take long for consequences to follow. Physical deterioration. Hallucinations. Loss of motor control. And eventually, an overwhelming sense of paranoia and rage. Users who overdosed would die by every blood vessel in the body bursting. And then the heart.
That reminded me of the conversation at the fight club, "That's probably what they meant by popping like a balloon."
And then the next part. Something even worse as I read on. A small notation in the corner of a page caught my attention—Serum X. It was listed alongside Trigger and Delirium in a complex formula. I skimmed the page further, piecing together what was there. Serum X was designed to temporarily erase a person's quirk.
The finished product came in the design of a bullet, meant to be injected into the bloodstream, gaining access to the quirk factor and then destroying it. But it would only last for a day, 36 hours at most.
"I find it hard to believe they would want to stop it there."
After thinking on it, I began to weigh my options here. This seemed like a very dangerous endeavour, "I should probably bring this to the heroes."
That's what anybody else in my position would do isn't it?But nobody else is me.
Nobody else has the same indifference or distrust in the heroes like I do. Nobody has the capabilities that I have."And where else do I go but forward!"
The documents had more references, of
human blood, the compounds were mixed in a way that suggested it wasn't just any blood. There was a connection between the serum and the rare blood trait. Or quirk? But why?
I frowned, scanning the lines for anything that explained it, but the details were scarce. The implications were there. The need for this blood, possibly the blood of a person with a strong or unique quirk. It wasn't just a side-effect of the drug it was a key ingredient for the bullet.
I felt my pulse quicken as I processed the information. Overhaul was mixing Delirium with Trigger to enhance quirks, but he was also creating a bullet that would erase them. Sounded like a nightmare."I wonder what his quirk is?" Or maybe it's the quirk of someone around him that makes it all possible.
I looked over the documents one more time, taking mental notes of every name, every location, every hint that would lead me to understanding what Overhaul was really doing.
I seem to be dealing with a very dark and troubling crime syndicate here.___I stood in the ring with a plain white mask on made from paper, my opponent stalking towards me, his arms like slabs of granite. His quirk was simple, hardening his skin to stone. Intimidating to an average person, but predictable. Each moved telegraphed before he even made them.
'This is the third match Aya had set me up with. I kept her number but I didn't think I would really need it after she lead me to Kyushu. She's been raking in on her 70% cut, feeding me to whoever was down to fight me over here. A parasite in heels she is, but she's good at what she does.'
The brute charged at me, his stone covered fists slamming the air where my head had been a second ago. I ducked, pivoting smoothly to his blind spot. The crowd erupted at the near miss, but I was already watching out for his next move. He wasn't slow, but his quirk made him overconfident.
I shaped a sheet of paper from my wrist into a thin, gleaming blade. With a flick of my hand, it arced toward his shoulder, cutting through the gap in his stone like armour. He roared in pain, swinging wildly.
'Fights like these weren't about the brute strength, it was control, control of perception and everything that comes next. Just like my little grievances against the Shie Hassaiki. A shipment lost in the sea here, a warehouse scorched there. Nothing too loud, nothing that can be traced to me. It had been going on for the last week now. It should be enough to rattle them and force them to act.'
The brute stumbled, his balance faltering as I swept his legs out from under him. Before he could hit the ground, I reshaped the blade into a cord, binding his arms behind his back. He collapsed face first onto the mat, struggling against the bonds as the referee stepped in declaring my victory.
Yeah, this fighting ring was a little different, a lot more organized.
The roar of the crowd was the same though, deafening. But that wasn't what had caught my attention, it was the silence. The room shifted, a ripple of unease spreading throughout the spectators as the crowd parted like Moses had just walked through.
A man stepped through, hands in his pockets, he wore an impeccable dress shirt and tie despite the grimy venue. The plague doctors mask over his face was unmistakeable. Overhaul.
'Well shit.'
He stopped at the edge of the ring, his head tilting slightly as he regarded me. The crowds whisper's reached a fever pitch, but no one dared to step closer.
"You!" he said in a voice that was calm and commanding. "Do you want to fight me?"
I hesitated, my mind racing. 'Of course not you maniac.' But I didn't say that. Although I didn't know what his quirk was, judging from the crowd and overall atmosphere I expected it to be dangerous.
"No," I replied, keeping my voice even. "I don't."
Overhaul nodded once, almost approvingly. "Then follow me." He gestured for me to follow then turned around and walked waiting for me to follow his trail.
I looked at the crowd to gauge their reactions. They parted even further, their fear of him palpable. 'This is, the moment I've been waiting for.' I stepped out of the ring, adjusting the simple mask I'd crafted from my quirk. It hid my expression, but my mind was sharp.___We arrived at a sleek black car outside the venue. Overhaul opened the door, gesturing for me to get in without a word.The ride to the base was silent, the tension so thick I could cut it with a paper knife, one made by me of course. Overhaul didn't speak and neither did I. The silence felt heavy, as though every word held weight, every glance held meaning.
Beside Overhaul, a man sat stiffly. His presence was cold, unsettling. I hadn't seen him before, something about him screamed authority. 'Ah wait.' I think that's Shin Nemoto.His thin angular face was expressionless, but his eyes. dark and sharp seemed to pierce through me, the distrust couldn't be hidden by the glasses that framed them. His hair was black and slicked back which added to the clinical look he had. His aura was all-encompassing.
The cars tires hummed softly as we drove through the dark, winding streets. The base, I knew was not a place anyone would go willingly. It was a fortress. It was his home.
We arrived, Overhaul led the way through sterile hallways. My mask remained intact, hiding my face, but my mind was already working, calculating ways to escape if it came down to it. There was no way I could let my guard down in front of the head of operation.
Inside a small and dimly lit room, Overhaul took a seat at the head of a cold metal table. Nemoto stood at attention beside him, his presence intimidating without uttering a single word.
I was sat on the opposite end but I was told to stand close enough, close enough to where they could both reach me.
"You're a dangerous one." Overhaul said, his voice low and controlled. "Not the type to get noticed easily, and yet... here you are."
I didn't respond. What was there to say to that? To someone who sounded so ready to kill at a moments notice.
"What's your real name?" He asked,
I hesitated for a moment, there was no way I was giving my real name. So a fake would do.
"Kenta Hayakawa." The sound of leather creaking felt louder than it should have in the silence of the room.
"You're real name?" Shin Nemoto's voice rung out, his expressionless face held a lot more contempt within it.
I felt the air around me shift, a subtle but unmistakeable pressure. His quirk. A compulsion crept in. While a guinea pig at Eden I was made to train to resist mind altering powers. So even though this one was incredibly strong, there was always the chance of me fighting it off.
But I didn't want to give that away if it were to be found out. Plus resisting once would only make it harder for me to do so again. "Kobe Arakawa." I let it slip out of me.
Overhail tilted his head slightly, studying me with renewed interest. "Arakawa," he repeated, his tone pensive.
"Who's pulling your strings?"
"I'm not working for anyone." My voice didn't waver.
"Then tell me Kobe," Overhaul said, his tone colder, "Do you have any previous affiliations? Work for anyone? Law enforcement, maybe the Heroes?"
My throat tightened, truthfully I still have a sister in a hero school, and previous affiliation could very well be the Eden Project. But I trusted in what would come out, there was pain in my throat though, lying was like second nature, it being deprived from me didn't feel right."I'm not affiliated with law enforcement and I got no love for heroes."
Overhaul pressed further. "Aspirations? You must have something you want. What's your goal?"
Now, that question hit harder than the rest. Goals. I had none, I think I wanted to be a hero when I was younger, but it was no great aspiration. And I was almost fully put off by it after being sent to be a part of that stupid project.
They didn't instill any goals in me other than working towards being a hero. Now that I didn't go down that path. There was nothing.
"Answer!"
"I don't have any."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The city had been restless lately. Kyushu, felt like it was becoming a pressure cooker. And it was angering Overhaul. Disruption was growing in waves to the intricate system Overhaul had spent years building.
Warehouses were burning down, stock was missing, his dealers were disappearing too, some leaving the city or at least trying to escape after they mismanaged product.
He stood in his office, gloved fingers tracing the edge of his pristine desk. The room was immaculate, as always—a sanctuary from the filth he loathed. The faint hum of the ventilation system barely masked the sound of distant rain tapping against the windows.
"Why are things going like this?" They were unseen but veins bulged in his hands,
Along with the growing disorder, it allowed for police and heroes to start getting entangled with city affairs. He's had to pull back on certain operations. 'This wasn't how it was supposed to be!'
Overhaul clenched his fists, feeling the smooth leather stretch over his knuckles. He'd dealt with weakness among subordinates. Failed ideals. The filth of this world encroaching on his vision. But this felt different, insidious, like a disease festering and growing.
He though that maybe a new villain was in town. But no names were coming to mind.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. Whispers had reached him about a new figure emerging in the underground fighting circuits. A good amount of money was being made there for him, he did own all the land these fights took place in after all.
But this new fighter had only appeared a few short days before the attacks began. Overhaul didn't believe in coincidences. Someone like that wouldn't appear without reason.
He tapped his fingers on his desk, the rhythmic sounds calming his thoughts. He's recruited from there before with Rappa and Tengai, and he wanted that to be the last time even though it was at least two years since then.
Recruiting from such a volatile environment wasn't his style, it wasn't smart. But these circumstances demand flexibility. If the fighter had potential he could be useful in
safeguarding purposes for the transition.
Overhaul had planned to move his base of operations since more heroes were crowding around the area. He couldn't afford to let anything slip through the growing cracks.
Later that evening, he sat across from the masked fighter. Kobe Arakawa.
Calm under pressure. He noted. Kobe answered Nemoto's questions with surprising composure. Most would crumble, their secrets would spill out like an open wound. But this one resisted, could resist, if only slightly.
Not invulnerable, but impressive.
Overhaul looked at the mask Kobe wore, it was simple and functional. It spoke of someone who valued efficiency over vanity. 'That could be useful.'
"Why are you in this city?" Nemoto asked, his tone was heavy and suspicious, as it should be.
Overhaul's golden eyes flickered with a faint amusement, watching the darker skinned boy answer.
"For money." Kobe said in an even tone.
Money. Overhaul's lips twitched in the barest hint of disdain. Everyone wanted money. But that was fine, it just made it easier to work with him.
"And where are you from?" Overhaul asked him, leaning forward slightly.
"Musutafu, in the Shizuoka Prefecture."
Overhaul's brow raised ever so slightly. Musutafu, the city carried weight. Heroes, UA high, the birthplace of legends. It was like a natural breeding ground for them.
"Musutafu," he repeated, his tone was sharp. "A hub for heroes. People who think they can rewrite the laws of the world with brute force, and here you are. Somehow you didn't fall into that crowd."
Silence followed, stretching long and thin. Overhaul didn't rush. He savoured moments like this, letting the pressure build up. The slightest shift in body language revealed volumes, but Kobe didn't falter, which on it's own told him enough.
Then came the last question... he was sure the knew of him. He had let him win his fights in the city long enough now, so he should know of who he is and how he is the one to run things...
"Have you been messing with my product in this city?" His voice dropped, each word measured and sharp as a scalpel.
The kid tilted his head slightly,"If it's causing you problems, it's got nothing to do with me. All I've done here is related to me and earning."
It was ambiguous, but it was still under Nemoto's quirk and Overhaul trusted that. The boy's tone was devoid of hostility. Overhaul's brow furrowed, dissatisfaction creeping in. The answer was true, but it's vagueness grated on him.
He could ask again..."If you're lying to me, I'll find out. And you'll suffer a fate worse than death."
"I'd expect nothing less."___The sound of my shoes echoed faintly as I followed Overhaul through the faint light tunnels of the Yakuza's base. The air down here was thick, almost sterile, as though he sanitized every molecule down here himself. Walls of polished and clean concrete loomed on either side, blank and featureless, except for the occasional metal door.There was a stillness to it. One that reminded me of the cold facility I was trapped in.
Overhaul walked with a measured, clinical pace, hands lazily hanging on each side of him. He hasn't said anything since the little interview we had earlier, but his presence was loud enough. It pressed against me.
I had kept my mask on grateful for the anonymity it granted. He hadn't insisted I take it off yet, which meant he was still feeling me out. Good. That worked in my favour.
"This is the foundation of what we've built," Overhaul began, his voice was cool and deliberate. "It may not look like much, but efficiency doesn't need aesthetics."
I glanced around, letting my eyes linger on the stark corridors, the lighting, the breeze of electricity in the air. No wasted space here, no decorations.
Just like him.
We stopped in front of a reinforced, steel door, and Overhaul pulled a key from his pocket. The lock clicked open with a heavy sound that reverberated through the hallway. He stepped inside, gesturing for me to follow.
The room was grotesque. Cages lined the walls, each housing creatures that didn't look like they should have existed in this world. One had a wolf-like animal with feathered wings; another contained a snake with legs that resembled a lizard. They shifted and moved, restlessly, their eyes glowing faintly under the harsh light.
"This," Overhaul said, gesturing to the room. "is a demonstration of my potential."
I forced myself to remain still. I didn't let it show, easier with the mask on.
"These creatures," he continued, "are the result of combining traits at a molecular level. My quirk allows me to disassemble and reassemble matter at will. This includes living beings."
'Dangerous.'
He walked over to one of the cages, pulling back tarp to reveal a figure slumped inside. My initial thought was that they were someone with a mutant quirk—a human with cat like features— But the longer I looked, the more I realized how wrong I was.
"This one," Overhaul said, his voice was deep and cold. "Was one of my subordinates. He failed me, so I gave him a new purpose."
The figure stirred slightly, it's feline eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. It let out a guttural cat's cry in a growl of a human tone.
"To make it easier for me, I wear down the mind during the process," Overhaul began explaining. "what remains when I merge human and animal then is the primal instinct, overlaid with a fragment of their original consciousness. Useful in some ways, but limited. A reminder of what happens when you mess up in this family."
I didn't say anything, I didn't react. It was disgusting, mortifying and even gave me second thoughts about this place the thought of running away.
"This," Overhaul turned back to me, "is why I need someone competent. Someone who won't fail. Everyone get's two strikes and their out."
He gestured for me to follow again, leading me out of the room and into another corridor. My pulse quickened as we walked, the memory of that...still fresh in my mind.
Eventually, we reached another door. This one less imposing, but the air around it felt heavier. Overhaul opened it without hesitation, and I stepped inside.
The room was sparse, almost clinical. A single bed in the corner, it's sheets neatly folded. The walls were bare, save for a few cracks that stretched out like veins. And in the center of the room, curled up on the floor, was a small girl with a little horn on her head.
She looked up as we entered, her wide, frightened eyes locking on to Overhaul immediately. She didn't move, didn't speak. She just trembled, her hands clutching the hem of her dress like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
"This," Overhaul said with a softer and indifferent voice now. "is what you'll be safeguarding."
I didn't respond yet, my eyes were fixed on her, on the way she flinched at every movement he made, the way her hole body seemed to shrink in on itself.
The room felt heavier now. I looked away from the child, I focused on the details instead—the reinforced locks on the door, the hidden cameras in the corner, the faint scent of anti-septic in the air.
Overhaul turned to me, his golden eyes piercing through the dim light. "Take off your mask," he said.
I reached slowly, undoing the paper mask, and letting it fall away into nothingness.For a moment he said nothing. Just standing there studying me, with the same calculating gaze.
"This is your chance," he said firmly. "Prove yourself useful and you'll find your place here. Fail... and you'll suffer."
He didn't need to specify on how, I nodded once and the mask slipped back into place.He started to leave, "Get to know Eri. If you want to leave or I call you up, just press the green buzzer, it will open the door for you."
The buzzer was high up on the wall, I could reach it, but the child at my back certainly couldn't.
Eri. That was the frightened child's name.***The door clicked shut behind Overhaul, leaving me alone in the sterile room with the trembling girl. Her fragile form seemed even smaller against the empty expanse of the space. Eri. Her name echoed in my mind as I glanced at the green buzzer high up on the wall.
I crouched low, careful not to make any sudden movements and kept my tone low, no doubt the room was hooked with listening devices. I took of my mask. "Eri, right?"
She didn't respond, only shrank further into herself. Her small hands clung tightly to the fabric of her dress which I could tell was supposed to be white.
"I'm not here to hurt you," I tried again, though the words felt hollow, even for me. How many times had she heard a lie disguised as reassurance?
I sat cross-legged on the cold floor, making myself seem smaller, less imposing. Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Her ruby coloured eyes watched me with fear, like a cornered animal.
The weight of the room pressed down harder, and I couldn't keep my mind from wandering. How long had she been kept here? How many other's had passed through those doors to shatter the fragile trust she had left?
I leaned back on the wall, my gaze flickering to the cracks out across the ceiling, I could see a deep burgundy colour in some of the cracks, 'was that blood?'
I looked back at the kid who didn't take her eyes off of me."Do you want me to stay quiet?" I asked softly, not expecting an answer.
To my surprise she gave the feintest of nods, almost imperceptible. I respected it, leaning my head back and letting the silence reclaim the room.
It could be a start.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The convoy rattled down the uneven roads toward Hamamatsu, the engine's sound was occasionally interrupted by the soft crunch of gravel beneath the tires. I sat in the back of the pickup truck, wedged between mismatched furniture and Eri, who sat quietly beside me, still shivering in fear, or maybe she was cold.
I found a blanket and got one of my paper constructs in the form of small birds carry it over to her and wrap itself around her. She looked surprised and then turned to me, I only shown a slight nod before looking away.
The air smelled of varnished wood and something faintly metallic—probably from the crates behind us. The four precepts accompanying us were named, Rappa, Chronostasis, Tengai and Sakaki. They filled the space with their conversation.
Rappa, the largest one of the four, was the loudest, "Tengai, I want to know if your shield could really stop me if I went all out." He said pounding a fist to his palm.
Tengai didn't bother to look up at his large figure, "Rappa, my barrier is impervious, you'd break every bone in your hand and wouldn't even make a dent."
"Yeah?" Rappa leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a challenge. "Maybe we should test that once we get to the new compound now. bet you'd be singing a different tune by then."
Chronostasis sighed, his tone clipped. "Both of you should save your energy, plus it's not a new compound Rappa, the boss said he grew up there with the last boss."
Sakaki chuckled, brushing hair from his face."Relax, let them brawl. It's not like anyone's going to cry if Rappa ends up with a broken jaw."
Their dumb laughter was jarring to hear, they were talking about basically nothing. It was good for Kobe to learn more about potential quirks, for some they literally made it obvious in the name they decided to give themselves, like Chronostasis.
Eri shifted beside me, drawing my attention. Her small frame was hunched and her knees were pulled in to her chest as if to make herself invisible. She didn't even flinch when the truck had hit a pothole, but her hands tightened around the blanket.
I noticed it last night, Eri has a lot of scars, coursing her forearms. It was something Overhaul most likely caused.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a bottle of water and a small packet of crackers. I nudged her gently with my elbow, holding them out. She glanced at me, her ruby red eyes wary, but after a moment, she hesitantly took the offering. She didn't say thank you, but the way she clutched them to her chest was enough.
The conversation around us continued, but it felt like background noise, a meaningless hum. Eri nibbled on the crackers, her movements cautious, as if someone might snatch them away. I leaned back against the truck bed, letting my head rest against the worn cushion.***We were close now, through the windows in the front, we could see a checkpoint. One problem though, it was barricaded by a small group of uniformed heroes. Gang Orca and his sidekicks.
The driver up front got jittery, he cursed under his breath. "Shit," he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I forgot my damn record,"
"What are you talking about?" Rappa barked leaning forward.
"I've got priors and, I'm wanted for a burglary," He was already wanted and didn't want to go back, "If they scan my ID we're screwed." Panic laced his voice, and without waiting for a response, he slammed his foot on the gas, swerving around the barricade.
The heroes reacted instantly, Gang Orca, his massive and imposing form, stepped forward raising his left hand. The air thickened around us, and the sound of the trucks tires screeching against the road was drowned out by his commanding voice. "Stop The Vehicle!"
The driver couldn't stop. Instead, he reached for something under his seat. 'This idiot is going to get us killed.'
Before he could act, a second truck veered off the road, blocking the path of the pursuing heroes.
Chaos erupted.
Rappa whooped in excitement, punching massive holes and leaping out of the truck before it even stopped. "Finally some action!" He charged straight for Gang Orca. Tengai followed, his barrier shimmering into existence shielding Rappa and the front of our truck.
I stayed where I was keeping a hand on Eri, my eyes scanned the chaos and only stopped when I saw her.
Yuki. My sister.
"What's she doing here?" Dumb question, she's doing a work placement with Gang Orca most likely,
She moved with the eyes of a beast, how could bright purple jewels look so beastly. Her jet black curls were tied in a ponytail. Her hero outfit was a sleek combination of dark blues and silver. It only enhanced her cold features.
"She's already putting her quirk to use." She could give life to inanimate objects to which she commanded.Street signs bent and twisted under her control, forming makeshift weapons and barriers to fight off both Tengai and Rappa as well as Chronostasis who was edging in closer.
There was no way I was joining that battle, having her see me would be the wrong move.
It had been over a month since I had last seen her. Not that it mattered, we weren't that close. Maybe we had been when we were just kids, but that was it. She'd always been the perfect one, while I... well, was the opposite. Seeing her now didn't fill me with any kind of longing or nostalgia, just frustration.
I should get out of here.
"New guy!" Sakaki's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Pick up Eri, we're leaving while they hold off the heroes. Now!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I scooped Eri in my arms, her small frame trembling against me, and then I bolted.I was fast, much faster than Sakaki which made me slow down and allow him to keep up, it was to be expected, Sakaki was an alcoholic, his quirk kind of required it but that's not to say I enjoyed being slowed down by him.
We ducked into the forests, the sounds of the fight were becoming more distant. A large paper bird formed and lifted Sakaki, "Hey, I didn't ask for this."
Since I decided to move faster I needed him to keep up, he should be happy for my good will.
"Hey, new guy! Our new ride is just ahead, off that road." Right, when travelling like this, with extra cargo, the Overhaul made sure there were multiple cars following each other, in case of incidents like this.
"Let's move." We stepped in the car this time. A sleek black edition with two well dressed men in the front, instead of the big truck that stuck out on these otherwise quiet roads.
As the car sped off, I realized Eri was still curled against me, feeling the warmth. She seemed exhausted.
I thought on what could have happened, I could have gotten snatched by my own sister. If she had caught me, then what, would she even look for any reason I could give for being here. I don't believe she could. She would let the police take me away to a station and lock me up for operating in a controlled syndicate group. I don't even know the full extent of the Shie Hassaiki and Overhaul.
Which was the original reason for me being here. I wanted to find out more about them and if they had any relation to Eden, the chances of that now were incredibly low, so now I just needed to learn more about them, dismantle the group and slip away unnoticed, and with Eri. No kid should be stuck in what was clearly an abusive situation with someone that may not even be her family.___The compound in Hamamatsu was a blend of utilitarian design mixed with a lingering sentimentality. It's outer structure, nestled in a stretch of dense forest, seemed unassuming. A drab weathered house surrounded by thick, moss covered walls.
A wrought iron gate marked the entrance, rusted but still imposing, like a sentinel daring you to question it's purpose. The air smelled of damp earth and pine, the quiet broken only by the occasional chirp of unseen birds.
The first room we entered was warm, and held remnants of a place that used to be lived in.
"This way," Overhaul led us through the space, an inconspicuous door at the end of the hall.
We descended a steep staircase that seemed to stretch endlessly into the earth. Each step was colder than the last, and by the time we reached the bottom, the air was damp and metallic. Overhaul pushed open another door, revealing the compounds hidden underground structure.
The space was the exact same as the last one. The only difference I could see was when we made it to Eri's room. More child-appropriate.
Her room was painted in soft pastels, the walls adorned with stenciled flowers and animals. A small bed with fluffy pink blankets stood against the one corner, flanked by shelves stocked with toys and books.
'What was the point of the books though?' I found out early on that the kid can't even read.
This just seemed like a desperate attempt to make her feel somewhat normal, a jarring contrast to what her life actually was.
Overhaul glanced to Sakaki and I, his eyes momentarily were devoid of any hostility. "Great work you two. Getting here without compromising the mission."
"Thank you boss," Sakaki bowed and I nodded in acknowledgement, seeing no reason to bow.
Overhaul turned to Eri. "This will be your new room. Enjoy it. I'll be back in a few hours to continue where we left off last time. It's been a while."
Of doing what? I was starting to get the feeling that I was hired by a freak, if so I'd have to nab the kid and run off even sooner without my own little investigation.
Eri didn't respond to him, instead her eyes darted everywhere but him, she even glanced over to me. Looking for what? Reassurance? Maybe, I gave her a small little nod and she hesitantly stepped into the room.
I do wonder if that kid's mute. It wouldn't be surprising.___The room is unnervingly clean, Overhaul had explained that he was a germaphobe but I never thought it could go this far.
Overhaul wanted me in this room by a certain time, I asked him what it is he actually does with Eri. He just told me to come and watch. Once I stepped in the room, there was a coppery smell that I couldn't quite ignore. It pieced together so much that occupied my mind that I almost ignored the fact that some other Precept members were also in the room.
Overhaul stood at the center of the room, his figure poised and clinical. Eri sat, strapped to a table, her small frame dwarfed by the machinery surrounding her. She held back her screams but tears still flowed down her face.
She just sat there, no struggle, motionless and resigned. Her wide ruby-red eyes staring blankly ahead accepting this routine.
I stood to the side, my back to the cold, sterile wall, arms crossed, every muscle in my body coiled tight. I was nothing more than a shadow in the room, watching silently.
Overhaul's voice cut through the silence like the scalpel in his hands, "Hold her still." two subordinates in lab coats stepped forward and tightened the restraints, they wore face masks but their eyes showed nothing but an unfeeling resolve.
The first needle, slid into her arm, and Eri flinched, a tiny, instinctive twitch she couldn't supress. I felt my jaw clench involuntarily. I stayed composed, and kept my breathing even. Play the part. Stay in control.
"The child's blood," Overhaul started, his tone as precise as his movements. "Is key to erasing the disease that plagues this world. A cure for the chaos that quirks have brought forward. She is the cornerstone to that new era."
Order. It was like a cold mantra that defined everything about this man. Yet as he worked there was no hint of cruelty. His actions were most certainly cruel, but he didn't see it that way, to him it was just a cure.
The needle filled with crimson, the liquid catching the harsh light as it siphoned it away. It felt like a blow to my gut. Eri flinched again, her tiny fists curling against the straps.
I looked away for a little bit, letting my eyes scan the room. There were steel counters, vials of what I assumed to be her blood, the feint dark stains in the corners that no amount of bleach could scrub fully clean. Everything in this place felt wrong, but nothing more so than the silence.
"Focus," Overhaul said, his gaze flickering to my direction. A command, cool and impersonal.
I exhaled slowly and let my eyes fall back on the scene in front of me. Eri's breathing had grown shallow, her small chest rising and falling rapidly.
Overhaul stuttered in place, "Screw it. That's enough for today," He declared, He removed the needle and handed the vial to one of the doctors and watched as they stepped away without a word. The restraints were undone, Eri sagged against the table, her strength depleted.
The room fell silent again, save for the feint hum of machinery. Overhaul straightened and turned towards me.
"Kobe," he said, his voice cut through the oppressive stillness. "You've been useful, even for the short time you've been here. But you're not just a bystander, you've shown restraint, composure, and resolve. Qualities this family needs. You're not one of the eight precepts, but you'll have a role here. A title."
I remained still, my expression had went unchanged.
"From this day forward you will be
Sōryū. Our blue dragon. A sentinel, guarding the integrity of our work. Reliable."
The name felt powerful, as Overhaul said it he gestured to Eri.Sure the name felt strong, nice even. But it was nothing more than a tightening chain to keep me close to the organization.
"You'll operate outside of the standard hierarchy, but don't forget, you are loyal to me."
"Understood boss." I replied. That was the first time that I had referred to him by that.
I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging his words but revealing nothing. As he turned away, my gaze flickered to Eri, still trembling. Her wide tear-stricken eyes were on me, a silent plea for salvation I couldn't answer. Not yet.
Sōryū. A guardian of a twisted empire. For now, I would wear the name and play the part. But deep inside, the resolve I had been nurturing burned brighter. Soon, I would turn their own shadow against them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Overhaul had sent me on a mission.
Heroes were still following our trail so I was to figure out if they were any major heroes or hero agencies on his case. So here I was, walking the streets of chatter.
My hood was pulled low as I blended in with the sea of faces.
I listened to fragments of conversations and one interested me a lot.
"UA was attacked..." UA high school, the most known hero school in the country with the most heroes of the top ten coming from there.
That same UA was attacked by a group that called themselves...
The league of Villains. I'm sure a lot of thought went into that name.
But the whole idea sounded ridiculous, attacking a hero school, one filled to the brim with heroes one being the number 1 hero of the entire nation. I could only assume it went bad for them. Also sneaking into a hero school must have taken some effort.
"Maybe they put all their effort into doing that instead of coming up with a group name."
They probably thought to pick off future heroes and scare away the rest from being heroes. 'If I was a villain...' I stopped that train of thought. As I am now I basically am one.
One with a mission.
A glint caught my eye, drawing my gaze to a figure near the edge of the market. A hero. Her uniform was striking, sleek with blue accents that caught light like fractured water. It was striking, and purposeful.She openly engaged with people as she passed by them. Her straight forward demeanour left little room for subtlety. A badge on her chest caught my eye. It was a keepsake from a hero school, from Shiketsu high. That explained the confidence in her gait, she graduated from one of the top hero schools in the country, second only to UA.
She was tall, probably 5ft 9. Her short choppy hair was a bright coppery-red, framing a lightly freckled face. Her emerald green eyes were sharp, focused and a little too obvious with their intent on searching for something in the crowd.
I finally recognized her as the hero
Glasslock, she had gathered up a recent buzz after a string of perfect rescues. Her quirk was something to do with glass, it was hinted all over her costume, like the shards on her gauntlets.
'I don't know if she creates it though,'
I slipped deeper into the crowd but something tugged at my awareness. A presence, steady and deliberate. I glanced at a shop window's reflection and spotted him—Centipeder. He wasn't someone that was hard to miss, his segmented limbs protruding slightly from his bulky hero uniform. He moved with a predator's patience, following at a distance.
Centipeder was familiar. Not personally. He works for Sir Nighteye, 'Then chances of the girl ahead working with him is also high.' He was no rookie.
I quickened my pace, testing their reaction. My mask slipped on under my hood, unseen. Centipeder matched my speed, closing the distance slightly, Glasslock adjusted her position ahead of me.
A trap.
Good. 'I prefer to know when I'm being hunted.'***I turned the corner, slipping down a quieter street, the noise of the walking crowd fading behind me. My pulse quickened. Centipeder had narrowed the gap between us, and I had lost sight of Glasslock, I doubt she crouched, otherwise some people may have brought attention to it.
The alley stretched into a wide plaza with glass-fronted shops. The sunlight refracted off the panes, casting faint rainbows on the cobblestones. I stopped in the center and turned, waiting.
Centipeder emerged from the shadows of the alley. He was tall, over six feet, his insectoid features blending disturbingly well with his human frame. I didn't know if it was rude but it made me think of Overhauls pet projects.
His appendages moved with an eerie precision, and his voice was polite and calm.
"You're quick to notice a tail," he said, his mandibles clicking faintly. "Impressive,"
Glasslock appeared behind me, stepping from a side street. Her emerald eyes burned into me with a determination, the sharp edges of her gauntlets catching the sunlight.
"Smart, but certainly not smart enough." She said, her tone was confident, smug even.
I kept my stance relaxed, tilting my head slightly. "Is there anything I can help you with heroes?" I was glad for my mask still being on.
Glasslock narrowed her eyes. "We are just looking for suspiscious individuals, certain mishaps have been happening in or around the city for a while now."
She was so straight-forward, no nonsense—a hammer looking for a nail. She reminded me of Bakugou and his personality, the smirk that was bubbling up in me was quashed.
"Perhaps you'd like a moment to explain yourself..."
I cut Centipeder off. "I'm with the Shie Hassaiki." there was a short pause. "I just think that you should know that we are taking residence here."
The air around them shivered. Glasslock seemed stumped. 'Were they searching for him?'Well lets progress.
"Also," I slipped my hands into my pockets. "if I were you, I'd rethink the strategy. Two on one isn't great odds for you."
Glasslock scoffed. "Cocky, let's see how long that lasts."
Her gauntlets shimmered, and suddenly, shards of glass erupted from a nearby window, spinning toward me like a swarm of angry wasps. I sidestepped, letting them slam into the ground. They scattered and some reformed, floating in the air like a deadly halo.
Ah, so she doesn't create them. Just controls the nearby substance.
Centipeder rushed forward, his limbs stretching unnaturally as he aimed to pin me. I moved faster, ducking under his strike and sliding back into the plaza's open space.
"You guys seem curious." I taunted, Glasslock didn't wait.
She flung her arms forward, and the floating shards shot towards me in a quicker pace than her initial attack. One caught my sleeve, ripping a clean line in the fabric.
She was skilled, but impatient.
Centipeder closed in again, his limbs snapped forward like whips. I dodged, stepping into the space and driving an elbow into his chest. He staggered back but recovered quickly, his mandibles clicking in frustration.
Glasslock pressed the attack, leaping into the air and sending waves of glass shards crash down. I raised my hand, and with a sharp flick, a sheet of hardened paper unfolded. The shards shattered harmlessly against it, raining down around me.
"Are you holding back? On us, heroes." Centipeder asked, his voice steady. "Why?"
'Well that's because this wasn't my mission,'
Centipeder's slashed down towards me with a long centipede that was wrapped around his neck. I ducked and slid across the plaza's smooth surface. Glasslock closed in on me from above, shards of glass swirling like a storm at her command. Her movements were precise but lacked the subtlety of Centipeder's strikes.
She threw her arms forward, and the shards shot toward me in a chaotic spiral. This time I didn't block. I twisted and dodged letting the glass crash into the ground and walls behind me. The alley was confined, I needed more space.
With a burst of speed, I vaulted onto a nearby balcony, then onto a rooftop. The tiles crunched under my feet as I raced across, leaping to another building. The open air gave me room to maneuver, but I wasn't alone for long.
Glasslock followed, her shards propelling her telekinetically. She landed ahead of me, her emerald eyes gleaming with determination. Centipeder wasn't too far behind, scaling the building with ease.
"You won't get away, I've got eyes on you."
"Who said I was trying to run?" With a snap of my fingers, papers coiled around my arm and unfolded in a fluid motion. Strips darted toward the rooftop vents and railings, wrapping them and pulling tight. In seconds, I had turned the rooftop into the battlefield.
Centipeder moved first, his limbs stretching toward me like a barrage of spears. I countered with a whip of paper, sharp and fast, slicing through one of his appendages. He recoiled slightly, but his movements didn't falter.
Glasslock used the distraction to attack from the side, sending a spray of glass toward my exposed flank. I pivoted, using the paper strips to pull a vent closer into the line of fire. The shards embedded themselves in metal, and I used the same strip to swing the vent toward her like a battering ram.
She dodged, but it threw her off balance.
"You're quick," I said, stepping closer to them both, "But it feel's like you're trying to outshine your senior."
"Fuck you," she spat out.
"Don't let the outlaw get in your head Glasslock."
I stopped moving, which brought them to a halt."I want to know why you guys knew where to find me."
Sure I was following Glasslock, but I wasn't following for long before I was already being trailed. Was there a third nearby? They both wore earpieces so there was a chance that someone else was watching and directing them.
There isn't much to be heard from Nighteye, he was too secretive, I didn't know how extensive his network was. He wasn't like most of Endeavours sidekicks who, could work well but, didn't shy away from the internet in anyway.
"You both are subordinates of Nighteye correct?" They didn't answer, it was really hard to read the face of a centipede, and Glasslock had been doing a good job at hiding her thoughts with a stern and angry looking face.
"Nighteye is quite the secretive hero. You guys both seemed like you were searching for something, me! When you spotted me your movements changed and went on trying to ambush. But what could he be looking for from me?"
My face hadn't been exposed, I didn't think so anyway. If so then that opened the door to more, like a missing report being filed out for me.
Glasslock's eyes flickered toward Centipeder's, but he didn't respond.
"Fine, keep your secrets," I said, a folded envelope formed in my hand. "But I have something that might interest him."
I tossed it towards Centipeder,"That's for Nighteye's eyes only." I said.
I didn't expect them to actually wait, Centipeder ripped it open and pulled out the sheet, Glasslock looked as if she lost interest in me and flew over to peek into it.
"It's a map," she blurted out. "To where?"
"A little operation I stumbled on in the future," I said with a shrug. "Let's just say it involves some unsavory characters that might be worth your time."
She looked at the back and was trying to pull the paper apart, it was too thick to be only one page.Centipeder understood that it was my doing, and let it be.
"Being part of the Yakuza, especially the Shie Hassaiki is major news. They were involved in something only a day ago. But there was no news of you, we know all of the eight precept members already though. So... who are you?" he asked me that in a long drawn out tone.
I thought on it for a second. It would be fine for them to know of a new member working with Overhaul.But my quirk is still very unique, if it got out, and in this situation. Would my sister come searching? Would she bring in more heroes? That would only give me less time to figure out a plan to get Eri out of Overhaul's clutches....I smiled behind the mask,I don't mind the time crunch. I can work around it, I'll dupe the Shie Hassaiki, the heroes, police and anyone that get's in my way.
In the end, I just want to completely demolish anything to do with the Eden Project.
"Sōryū. My name is Sōryū."
With that, I leaped, letting the wind carry me to the next rooftop. By the time they reached the edge I was already gone, and the papers completely unfolded to reveal the documented information that I had collected before even meeting Overhaul.
Information about Trigger, Delirium and the Serum X which they wouldn't know is just Eri's blood, to create quirk destroying bullets.
That will keep them occupied, and then eventually make them want to strike quickly to stop him.
1 week.
That was how long I would give myself to get everything done and get out.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I lingered outside Eri's room for longer than necessary. The room was bugged with sound devices and even extra cameras that were hidden, I was sure they weren't there previously.
Overhaul still probably didn't fully trust me, which made sense. They were subtly hidden but I noticed them all when I stepped in. Five microphones the size of a beetle and three cameras only slightly bigger, hidden in things like books, untouched fluffy toy bears and the floral decorations.
Every sound, every breath was recorded.
Eri looked up at me briefly, her crimson eyes creeping from beneath her uneven bangs before darting back to her hands. She didn't show the same fear to me when I entered as she did whenever Overhaul was near.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her tiny frame swallowed by a new white gown which still shined in colour and lacked any stain, but for how long I wonder.
"How are you enjoying the new room?" I stepped in closer, trying to sound comforting.
She glanced up but didn't answer. Her silence wasn't new, it was probably learned in the harshest of ways. Her arms were exposed, there were scars, raised ridges, pockmarks, and lines that told stories I didn't want to envision.
Overhaul was a monster.
"Wanna see something?" In my hand paper formed and took shape as a tiny paper crane. It fluttered to life, and it's wings beat softly as it hovered in the air.
Eri's eyes followed the movement, curiosity flickering for the briefest moment. The crane landed on her knee, tilting it's head as if it could sense her hesitation. Slowly she reached out, her fingers brushing against the paper's edge.
"You like it?"
She nodded faintly which I was thankful for since her expression hadn't changed, just less wariness.
"Good!" I said. "Hang on to it."
If I was her, which I technically was—just under more humane circumstances, trust is something I wouldn't be giving out so easily.So I couldn't fault her for still being apprehensive. After I free her, hopefully Overhaul won't be a problem anymore. Then she can be sent off to a family that will actually care for her and begin to live a normal life.
Her quirk, Overhaul had explained it. It was called Rewind, and it only worked on the living, so I could already guess the complications that would come with it.
I stood and turned my back to her as she was still looking over the paper construct. Just before I reached the door, I caught a whispering, almost inaudible, "Thank you..."___In the quiet light of his office, Sir Nighteye poured over the documents that were brought back by two of his agency members. They explained how they got them from a new member of the Shie Hassaiki.
Honestly though, he already knew. His quirk was Foresight. So Nighteye decided to use it on one of the two he was planning on sending to survey the area. Centipeder.
Reason being: He had noticed Overhaul had moved his operations and wanted to be on top of things. He had been investigating Overhaul and had a bad premonition about him so wanted to make sure he could be one step ahead.
Nighteye had also gathered data on the illegal substance known as Trigger that he had been selling, he doesn't know the type of strain he is putting out on the streets, but he does know that it is supposedly very addictive.
Well, he didn't know until today. In the future he seen with Centipeder, he knew that this Sōryū was the one who would give him a hand on putting more pieces to the puzzle that was Overhaul's operation. He didn't know why he did, he just guessed that the new member was some morally ambiguous person that got too far ahead of himself.
A rogue that shouldn't be trusted.
The documents he had provided were detailed, as if they were stolen from the base of operations itself. But they were penned instead of typed out on a computer.
The mention of Trigger being mixed with another drug got his attention. But what held his attention was what came next. A Serum X.
Sir Nighteye tapped his fingers across the words, -Quirk Erasing Bullet- the idea, the implications. It wasn't just a theoretical danger, it was something that could turn into an existential threat to hero society. If these bullets could be mass produced...
It was very chilling.Enough so that Nighteye even thought of his former partner.
'Could this be how...?' He remembers the night he decided to leave All Might. And the bone chilling images of his death is what makes him ignore the thoughts of reaching out to him about this issue.
'I can handle it,'
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled his chin. Sōryū's motive's were an enigma. Was he an ally or an opportunist? A rogue vigilante, or someone planted by another faction? Nighteye ruled out the latter since his methods were too unorthodox, his movements too independent.
Still, the information was too valuable to dismiss. Nighteye's sharp gaze swept the papers again, memorizing the patterns.
A knock on his door broke his concentration. "Come in," he said without looking up.
Mirio Togata, a third year UA high student he had been mentoring as an intern, stepped in. "We're ready Sir," Mirio, was an exemplar student. He could pick up on things quickly, he worked hard, he had the charisma of a first class hero, and he was witty... or at least tried to be.
Overall in Nighteye's eyes, Mirio Togata otherwise known as Lemillion, was one of the only people he could call fit to lead Japan's next generation. A ray of sunshine to take over All Might's giant mantle.
'A shame my previous mentor couldn't see it.'
"Good," Nighteye replied, rising from his chair. He carried the documents into the main room, where his small but trusted team gathered. Bubble Girl and Centipeder on one side of the table, while Glasslock stood near the window with her arms crossed.
"This is everything Sōryū provided," Nighteye began, laying out the papers on a table. "We're dealing with the Shie Hassaiki, led by Overhaul. We have known of his illegal dealings of Trigger but there has never been any substantial proof."
Nighteye pointed over to the documents, "But that has changed, we just need to pick up one of his dealers and have probable cause to bring him in and question him. If things go right he will be of our streets, but we need to handle it with care."
"Don't you think this all dropped on us too conveniently?" Mirio asked, his tone was curious.
Nighteye nodded, his hand resting on the edge of the table, "Precisely, while this information is invaluable, it also reeks of intent. Sōryū wants us to act but we don't know why."
Bubble girl frowned, her arms crossed. "If it's a trap, why risk giving us information this sensitive? It's not just bait, it's detailed enough to dismantle half of Overhaul's network if this checks out."
"Unless he wants to cripple Overhaul for another agenda." Centipeder interjected, his voice was low and vibrating throughout the whole room. "This Sōryū, may have no intention of helping us beyond serving his purpose."
Glasslock then spoke from where she stood, slowly walking in with the rest of the people at the table, "Maybe he's just playing hero in his own way. Like those freaky underground heroes and just doesn't want to dirty his own hands too much."
Nighteye took in everything his team was saying before he thought to give his own thoughts.
"I don't think that. Sōryū, from the descriptions you two have provided and more, seems calculated. He wouldn't be the type of person to thrive off of recklessness."
"Then what's the play?" Mirio asked. His usual exuberance was tempered, his focus sharpened by the gravity of the situation. "Do we follow the leads or hold back?"
"We follow," Nighteye announced, "There were two main locations he mapped out, a warehouse and a bar. You guy's will move in two's. If you meet him again, try and get a motive or at least be a good judge of character. Of course if he is acting in ways intolerable... I'm leaving arrest up to you."
Centipeder didn't look happy, but it was hard to tell when one couldn't read his face. Nighteye just assumed so because of the air around him."What's wrong?" He asked.
The group turned to look at their peer, "I just think that the kid is using us and it could all lead to our downfall. If we want to have a chance with this we should fight fire with fire. We should expose that we received the information, causing him to start moving more erratically, like he's doing with us..."
"No!" Nighteye couldn't even shut the thought down. A part of him wanted to and another understood where Centipeder was coming from and agreed, but Mirio had harshly butt in.
"We're heroes. We should do the best we can to help everyone we can, we still don't know if he's a victim and needs our help. So we shouldn't rush in and do something like that."
Another shining example of why Nighteye has full faith in Mirio to become a bright ray of positive light in the future. Sometimes a little too idealistic, but that confidence to call your seniors out was good to help him and the rest see the current situation for what it was.
A blurry mess that only got a little less dim,
Nighteye smiled. 'I envision only a bright future for us.'___The halls in the compound were steeped in silence. The only sound was the buzz of the overhead lights. I moved with a silent gait, to avoid detection. The cameras tracked their predictable paths, and I waited patiently for my moment.
My quirk, Papermaster, I didn't know exactly what category it fell under, I think it was emission, but categories didn't really matter. But one little thing I learned when I got used to sneaking around places, was to flatten.
My body collapsed, taking a two-dimensional form, like actual paper.The world felt strange in this state, muted and warped. I lost that normal peripheral sight that everyone has and was more tunnel-visioned. But it was a small price to pay.
I clung to the walls, evading the cameras line of sight. Reforming only when I was sure there were none as I got closer to my destination.
Ahead, two guards stood casually at the intersection of the corridor. Overhaul hired normal men through a security agency, they had nothing to do with his actual business. I could respect their commitment, they would probably search for the nearest exit if they knew what he was actually doing.
Paper cranes glided silently down the hall, catching the feint light as it fluttered. One of the guards noticed it first, tapping his partner and pointing.
"What is that?"
"Dunno. Maybe he has a kid."
"He would have said so idiot,"
Curiosity won over caution and they followed the crane as it drifted around the corner. Once they were out of sight I moved again, darted towards the door and turning 2-d again to slip under the small gap between the door and the floor.
And I was in. I was in Overhaul's private office, one of them anyway. But this one was important, it was important because it held his private computer.
Like every other room in the compound, this one was as sterile and as suffocating as the man himself.
Overhaul's desk stood at the center of the room, in front of a mini bookshelf, it looked like it was a principals office. Every item on the desk was in perfect symmetry. Even his keyboard looked like it was untouched, each key polished and pristine. The smell of cleaning agents wafted around the area. 'He must have been here recently.'
I grabbed a pair of gloves from my pocket, second-skin gloves. They were designed to practicably be unnoticeable and due to it's clear tones, they really did seem invisible.
I sat down with a piece of paper between me and the seat. I booted up the computer and let my hands fly across the keyboard. Overhaul's digital security wasn't bad, but it wasn't good enough to stop me. Layer after layer of encryption fell away, revealing a treasure trove of files.
I scanned the screen bypassing financial records and supply logs until one folder caught my attention.
"Conference Records."
Inside were audio files, each labeled with dates and times. I clicked on the most recent one, plugging in an earpiece just in case the audio could be overheard. Overhaul's voice filtered through.
"We're on schedule, the prototypes have shown promise." he said.
A second voice responded, scrambled and distorted. Something about his cadence felt oddly reminiscent, geeky and overly-obsessed but this person was still keeping airs about them, trying to sound demanding and tough.
"Good, that quirk of your's sure works wonders. How's the girl?"
The conversation made me think that Overhaul was not the big bad boss that we all assumed. He was giving a report about his workings that have been going on. He is talking about Eri and the quirk-erasing bullets he is making.
"She's still with us, we unfortunately had to move but I'm sure your master already knows about that." So overhaul wasn't even speaking to the big boss, just some lackey.
I read the file names and even looked at how he saved the conversations. He was talking to someone labelled Doctor. I didn't have a clue who that may be.
But then again, why record these conversations? The questions gnawed at me. Was it insurance? It would make some kind of sense, Overhaul trusted no one, not his men or supposed allies. But that would mean there could be more.
Another file drew my eye, it's title was:
Project Oversight, Opening it revealed a few scattered notes and a single reference to an "academic facility". I frowned, the name of the school was Aldera Junior High.'Bakugou and Midoriya went there,' I never got to go because of my bad behaviour, I was banned from most school's in the district. But even then, I was already sent of to the Eden Project.
Shaking my head, my dreads danced along with the movements. I copied everything down on my phone.
The chair creaked softly as I leaned back, staring at the screen. Overhaul made a mention of the scrambled voice's master, someone powerful enough to control Overhaul.Before my mind could wander, footsteps echoed outside the door. Then Overhaul's voice came next.
The computer was already off, but since it was recently on he would probably notice the signs, every other sign to show I was here was erased. I flattened myself into a sheet of paper and slid under the desk as the door opened.
'Even if he does notice, I doubt he would confront just me. There's no solid proof that anyone was here.' I also thought that even a man as controlled as him would think that he made a mistake, just this once.
He muttered something unintelligible, I created a small paper ant to watch his movements. Once it relayed that he was turned away I slid from under the desk in my 2-d form, making no sound and then slid under the door again as he turned towards his computer.The guards were no longer where they were stationed.
I reformed as I made it a solid distance away from the door. My breathing was steady.
After some more time I made it back to the underground space and ended up in my little abode, acting completely normal. Nothing about me would give away that I had just broke into my employers private room and tampered with important information.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The silence in the room was deafening. Eri's small hands gripped the edges of her blanket, pulling it tighter around her as she stared at the empty floor. Every day was a reminder of the same nightmare she couldn't escape.
Her thought's were heavy, swirling like a storm. Memories she didn't want to recall surfaced unbidden. Her mother's back as she walked away from her, the faint echo of her father's laughter... before she had erased it forever. The scars that laced her small body, mounds of flesh where needles and scalpels had pulled pieces of her apart, stung even though they had long since healed.
She had tried to run before, twice, but both times had only ended in pain, for both her and others. Each failure tainted her soul, tainted her body. It was like a reminder that she was nothing more than a curse.
Her gaze drifted down to her lap, where her fingers clenched the blanket tightly. What was the point of wishing? What was the point of dreaming? No one had ever helped her, not truly. No one had ever stayed. She was alone and she deserved it.
A soft knock on her door startled her, usually people would just come in. Eri blinked and quickly smoother over her expression, expecting Overhaul. She turned her head as the door creaked open, revealing the quiet figure of her guard.
He stepped inside without a word, and without his mask, again. He wasn't very tall, at least not compared to other on the compound. His skin was darker than what she was used to, but that was probably because she hasn't spent anytime outside. It was warm and rich, a soft brown, it catches light in a way that makes him seem comforting and approachable.His eyes were a soft beige-brown that reminded her of caramel.
To Eri, her guards hair looked strange too, it dangled in a way that she hadn't seen in any of her other guards before. Like a collection of braided vines, well-maintained, as though each strand had been carefully twisted and shaped.Silver studs glinted in both his ears, catching the light whenever he moved.
There was something about the way he moved as well, a quiet confidence that she also see's in Overhaul.
He didn't speak much, he stepped in closing the door behind him. Eri watched him cautiously, her red eye's meeting his for a brief moment before she looked away. He wasn't like the others in the compound. He wasn't cruel. He was more gentle.
She didn't know his name. To her, he was just "the guard."
He glanced over at her briefly before his eyes settled on the bookshelf in the corner. Without a word he strode over and scanned the spines. His fingers paused on one, Eri couldn't read so she didn't know the title. But it was a book with a faded red cover.Pulling it out he turned it over, studying it before saying. "This one."
Eri tilted her head, unsure of what he meant. He didn't wait for a response. Instead he walked over to the small chair by her bed and sat down, flipping it open to the first page. His voice was steady and low as he read it.
"Once upon a time, there was a child found in a giant peach..."
Eri's eyes widened a little, the start of the story pulling her attention fully away from her own swirling thoughts. She didn't understand it at all, but she understood enough of the beginning. The tale of
Momotaro, the boy who had come from a peach, abandoned by no one but his destiny to conquer demons.
The words flowed from her guards lips as he continued, recounting the adventures of Momotaro, who had been raised by elderly parents and gone on to seek vengeance for those wronged by demons. With a dog, a monkey, and a pheasant at his side. He travelled to face those demons, proving that the most unlikely of heroes could change the world.
Eri sat still, watching him intently as he read. She didn't know why, but there was something calming about his voice. Something about it made her feel like she could breathe again. Like there was something more than just the cycle of fear and pain.
She had never had someone read to her before, not like this. Not since her mother. A tear threatened to spill, but she quickly blinked it away. She hadn't even realized how much she had missed something as simple as experiencing this, how long she had longed for the sound of a voice that wasn't threatening. Something that seemed like a far off reality.
Momotaro had been abandoned too, and yet he found strength. Even when the world was against him, he had allies and he had a purpose. She didn't know why, but it made her heart ache. She wished... she wished that she was him, that she was like him and could find that strength.
When the story came to an end, with Momotaro returning victorious and celebrated as a hero, the room was quiet again. Her guard was closed the book gently, and his eyes fell on her.
"Did you like it?" he asked, his tone softer now.
Eri swallowed, her voice barely a whisper and she kept her head down, "I... I don't know. It's strange."
He nodded, understanding. "That's okay, you don't need to understand it all right away. The important part is, he found his strength no matter how impossible it seemed."
She didn't say anything for a long time. The story seemed to open an unknown chamber in her heart. She didn't know what it meant for her—if it meant anything at all. She only knew one thing; for the first time in a long time, she felt a spark of something inside her.
The guard stood up, placing the book back on the shelf. He didn't say anything else, he just gave one last glance before leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and Eri was left alone again.
But this time the silence felt different, it wasn't as heavy. There was a weight to it, but it wasn't crushing. It was...lighter. And for the first time, Eri allowed herself to think that maybe, just maybe, things could change.Eri allowed herself to hope.___I was on a new mission, with new people.
I could probably fake a happy reaction right now. Honestly, I did expect a lot of moving around but that's everyday of the week so far. Only the third day in but I still needed to find a way to meet up with the Nighteye agency before they finish scoping out all the places I mapped out.
The truck we were in rumbled along a worn path, a jagged stretch of road that wound beneath the rusted bridge, the creek's murmur faint in the distance. Inside, the smell of old blood, metal, and the faint tang of chemicals mixed with the stifling in the air.
I was sat at the back, legs pressed against the hard, cramped walls of the truck. The cargo was packed tight—a grim collection of bodies, both dead and alive.
Three of them were dead. Human bodies, pale and stiff, faces slack and frozen in a final moment of agony. Their forms were folded in an uncomfortable arrangement, limbs twisted as though in an attempt to shield themselves from the cruelty of death. Their clothes were tattered, evidence of some violence before they met their final end.
I mentally catalogued their features. Scarred foreheads, skin that had clearly seen many years of abuse, empty eyes.
The other three were different. Even in the stillness, they felt alive. Or at least, they somewhat were. They were part of Overhaul's creation of merged animals and humans. These one's had no limbs, 'he said it was to make space for the ride.'
Their cages were still small, barely large enough for their twisted bodies. I could hear the shallow breaths.
Mimic was sat across from me, in a small form that I was told was just his disguise. Wrapped in a black cloak with two stocky legs and a plague mask that had a pointy nose. I think he was one of the more annoying members of this group I had run into. Similar to Rappa, he had an irritating confidence about him.
But not so similar—he was always quick with a sharp word or cruel joke. And he was overly-dedicated to Overhauls ambitions.I just didn't know if he was someone to watch out for. Which reminded me of the fact I hadn't seen Shin Nemoto in a few days now.
Yu Hojo, the driver, was less overtly strange, more straight forward. His face was hardened with years of rough labour, the kind that made people forget about the soft spoken-demeanour. He was bald, tall and muscular with shadowed eyes.
The truck finally came to a stop under a desolate bridge, the creek gurgling beneath. Mimic didn't wait for anything. He opened the back of the truck with a single motion, his gaze flickering towards the bodies and me. "Get to it, Unload the corpses. I'll keep a lookout."
I nodded without a word, stepping into the wet grass as I began to drag the bodies out of the truck. The corpses were first. Paper flowed from me, wrapped themselves like a thin veil around the corpses and then I just adjusted them and controlled them to move out of the truck.
I did something similar with the other bodies, I dragged them out with huge hand structures I created hanging above me.
The other two watched as I caught up to them. As I got closer I noticed a shadow form in a puddle in front of them. A strange figure emerged from it, standing, or should I say floating in a swirling motion. Dark mist emanating from them.
I knew him, from the news reports on the attacks on UA. A misty warp gate had helped the villains break in. With how rare quirks like that were, this must be him. Kurogiri. He blended in to the surroundings with an eerie calm.
"Mimic. It is nice to see you again." He said with a pointed direction.
"Save it, just give us our load and we'll give you yours." Mimic was unnecessarily loud sometimes and this was one of them. It was something that annoyed me about people when I was younger.
Yu Hojo turned his back to the scene already heading back to the truck. He was fine with knowing things were going as they should have. I remained focused on the task at hand, using my paper to lift all six bodies in the direction of the warp gate user.
But when two more people, alive teenagers, arrived from the warp gate I was slightly stunned. My chest tightened, they were young, my agemates probably. The boy had messy brown hair and a nervous look to his face.
And the other was a girl with a tangled mess of black hair and a frightened expression with dirt on her face. Their hands and legs were both bound.
"That's all we get?" Mimic asked with a perky accusatory tone.
"That's all you need, Overhaul will know how to accommodate them."
Mimic then signalled for me to pick them up and drop them in the truck, I stuttered for a moment, 'I think I know them.'
Yes.
From elementary school, before I got expelled. The boy, his extremely round face due to his quirk, and soft eyes that looked as if they were about to cry all the time, I could remember him. The girl too, there were marks around her eyes were she was supposed to be wearing glasses. I can remember she had a minor telekinesis quirk, really weak though.
How are they here?
"Take care of their journey will you?" Kurogiri mentioned, breaking me out of my thoughts before disappearing.
"Damnit rookie!" Mimic screamed in my ear as he jumped on my shoulder. "You fuckin embarrassed me. Follow my damn orders and pick em up and put them in the truck."
Right. I forgot. Plus it's hard to take someone that size seriously when they try to act like a superior.
As the two were being lifted to the truck like pieces of meat. I began to ponder on the reason for them specifically being here, captured and bound and basically trafficked.My mind wandered and came to a realization, Project Oversight.
It was on Overhaul's computer. It had to do with a school named Aldera, those two probably made the transition to the school, so what then? That doesn't explain why they were kidnapped.
But it gave me something to work with, even if it wasn't much.They clearly weren't taken because of their quirks, maybe just more bodies for Overhaul to experiment with. Now if that is the case...
...Should I save them?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The smell in this place was the first thing that'll hit you if you walk in. Metallic and sharp from blood, mixed with the musty, tangy smell of sweat and damp earth as well as urine. It should be expected in an illegal dog racing circuit.
People lined the railings of the track, leaning too far over, shouting at the animals, shouting at the animals like their lives depended on the outcome of the grim sport. Beneath the rackets I could hear the dogs—snarling, yelling and panting. If you listened too long you would start to feel sick.
I kept my mask on, this time only covering the lower part of my face snuggly. The fewer eyes on me the better. My back was pressed upon a grimy support beam as I scanned the crowd. It didn't take long to find him, Mirio Togata. As a UA student he was kind of famous, as the hero Lemillion, many people believed he would be the next All Might. The top rookie.
Even in this grimy atmosphere and him wearing dark colours, he still stood out. His posture was casual but you could tell he was not used to this, he wasn't even surveying his surroundings. With every second he spent looking at the line up it looked like he was just an inch away from jumping in and putting a stop to it.
I pushed myself off the beam, weaving through the crowd to close the distance between us. Mirio caught sight of me, finally, and moved as well, until we had reached a corner less populated by the people in the room.
His eyes locked on to mine, unflinching. He was more cautious now, more deliberate.
"A charming spot you found huh?" He said.
"It's neutral ground. Overhaul has no business here." I replied to his natural confidence with my even tone. "No one here cares what we're talking about, as long as we stay out of the way."
His eyes scanned mine, searching for something. "Sure, I just hope this doesn't fall back on us and it is actually out of the goodness of your heart."
I tilted my head, not sure if there was a message I was missing. I ignored it and stated my prose."Overhaul has two high schoolers. He just bought them off someone earlier tonight. Alive for now, if you want them to stay that way you go to the location that I tell you in 2 hours."
I was really going to be working on overtime here. The group I was with had to make a stop, we had made sure Overhaul knew we made the stop. Mimic kept the two in question sedated and tied in the back of the truck while we rested and waited for the tank to cool down and fill up.
Overhaul didn't want us using any of his newer vehicles in case they'd be damaged.
"Hold on, that easy? You hand the intel and I'm supposed to just believe you don't have some ulterior motive?"
"Believe what you want, but in two hours time the window of opportunity will be open, if you miss it, I won't be doing any more to free them." I glanced towards the track, watching the dogs tear down the dirt path, their bodies taut with desperation.
Mirio crossed his arms. "Why are you doing this then? You're deep enough with the yakuza to know that if they go down, so do you."
Honestly I never thought about that, and I didn't care to.
"You don't need some morality lecture. Let me give you a rundown on Overhaul's quirk. With a touch he can disassemble anything he touches, as well as reassemble it in any configuration he desires, basically having full control over matter."
Mirio gained a thoughtful expression, he really should have worn a mask."He's experimenting," I continued, "Merging humans with animals, among other things. Those two high schoolers will be next in line."
The words hung in the air between us. Mirio didn't respond right away, and when he did, his voice was quieter and sharper. "You're a kid."
And so, I wanted to spit out. But I stopped myself since I didn't want to expose any more of myself, this man in front of me was in the same year and school as my sister. No clue if they're in the same class though.
Mirio pressed on and stepped closer looking into my eyes. "You're a kid. Probably not much older than me, but judging by how small you are you're probably younger."
That felt more like a jab than an assessment.
"...You're playing with people that would kill you without blinking. Don't you get that?"
"I know exactly what I'm doing, and if you're not ready with your team of heroes then their blood is on your hands. Do you understand that?" I spoke slowly to properly get the message across.
Then an anger flashed across his face, it was brief but unmistakeable. "You don't owe them your life, you don't owe anyone your life. You know that right?"
He was trying to be thoughtful but to me it came off as condescending."We could help you,"
I don't need any help. I can help myself,"Save the hero speech,"
Before he could respond, a guttural growl cut through the air, followed by a sharp yelp. The crowd erupted, surging toward the railing. The dogs in the pit had turned on each other. One had started biting and the bodies of more collided.
Shouts of panic and excitement blended into a deafening roar as the spectators jostled for a better view or backed away entirely.
Mirio's head snapped toward the commotion, and his voice was steady and commanding. "Bubble Girl, now!"
A moment later, a girl coloured blue appeared. Her bright shade was a sharp contrast to the shadows of the venue. "What the hell is going on?" She asked, her tone was sharp but not in panic.
"Separate the dogs from the crowd," Mirio yelled, already moving forward toward the pit. Bubble girl activated her quirk forming bubbles that floated down to create barriers between the dogs and people. She worked quickly.
As she moved her foot got caught in something, and she stumbled. Looking down she was surprised to see three men knocked out and wrapped up tightly in thin white paper.
"Lemillion!" She called out urgently. "I think we got something here."
I watched from the shadows as they both inspected the men.
Mirio approached, quickly connecting the dots as he told Bubble Girl."They are probably the organisers of this event."
Mirio's gaze swept the room in search for me. But I was already gone, flying high back to where I left my initial group.___The smell of gas and rust filled the trucks cabin, the sound of the engine cut through the silence. I sat in the corner of the cargo hold, my mask still covering the lower parts of my face. Mimic floated nearby, his small figure darting between seats and walls, muttering to himself as he fixed his eyes on me.
"You're really quiet," he finally said, "Where were you earlier?"
"Sleeping."
"Really, cause I knocked really loud and I didn't even hear a stir."
I shrugged and kept my tone light and dismissive. "I was real tired, you know how exhausting these runs can be."
His glare didn't waver. Suspicion of me was still strong from the other members. "Yeah sure, deep sleep." He sighed and turned away. "Make sure you carry your own, no use in babysitting around here."
How ironic.
The truck jolted as it hit another bump in the road. Up front, Hojo cursed under his breath, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
"How much longer till we're back?" Mimic barked.
"Another hour, maybe less." Hojo replied, his tone clipped.
I stayed silent watching as the landscape had taken on the colour of early morning. Mimic got Hojo to sedate the two teens in the back, there breathing was shallow but steady. It was still a weird revelation that I knew of them, as well of the fact that they may be involved in some rancid experiment by Overhaul and whoever his conspirator's are.
Pieces of paper were in both of their pockets, it would make what I'm about to do easier and unnoticeable.
Mimic wandered back to me in his small form. "You seem awfully invested in those kids," He mentioned, "What's your deal?"
"No deal," I replied coolly, I turned my head from him and out the window as I started noticing flashing lights, then came the sirens.
"The fuck! Police are here!" Hojo announced it
"How, and why?" Mimic turned to me, I couldn't judge what his face was saying because of the mask but due to his earlier suspicions I was sure he believed I had something to do with it.
I didn't respond, I was concentrating on the paper in the round-faced boy's pocket and it floated out and out of the truck following along as a small bird now. The other's couldn't see it, but the police may have been able to.
"Hang on!" Hojo yelled. He slammed his foot on the accelerator. The truck roared as it careened down a side path, the tires screeched against the gravel. The cages in the back rattled violently, and I instinctively reached out to steady it.
The sirens grew louder. Flashing red and blue lights grew closer.
Hojo swore again, yanking the wheel to avoid oncoming obstacles. Thankfully there weren't many vehicles on the road this early. "Mimic, Do something!"
"Do what?!" Mimic snapped, his small body darting around the cabin. "I can't stop a whole damn convoy!"
"You're supposed to be the damn manager!" Hojo screamed. 'Self-imposed Manager.'
I gripped the walls for balance as the truck swayed dangerously. The high schoolers' cage was still intact, but it wouldn't be for long. My quirk was ready to act.
As the truck rounded a sharp turn, the heroes popped out. A car sped up, pulling alongside the us before veering sharply to block our path. Hojo slammed the brakes, and the truck skidded to a violent stop, throwing all of us forward.'Perfect.'
I remained unperturbed, the paper that was following the truck had slit it's tyres and another formed in the shape of a knife and cut the cage open. Once the truck had dropped it was easy to notice that the back tyres had gone.
And with that the back of the truck was tilted backwards. The cage dropped and the two victims were on the gravel.
"You're surrounded!" The voice of Centipeder bellowed, "Step out the vehicle and surrender!"
Mimic was the first to react, his form darted towards a light-pole and... merged? I think that is what happened. So that must be his quirk then. The light pole twisted in shape before smashing atop the vehicle that was following us.
"Surrounded? We'll see about that!"
Mimic was back in his cloth-like form, Centipeder approached cautiously, "You are only making this harder on yourself."
Mimic laughed and it echoed. As Centipeder got closer, the ground beneath him shifted, the metal warping into a slippery surface that threw him off balance. Mimic reappeared, darting at his legs before vanishing again, his movements were taunting.
"Come on bug boy, catch me if you can!" Mimic jeered.
The two teens that were on the gravel had disappeared. They must have been carried to safety already.Meanwhile in front of me stood Lemillion, who's eyes were focused on me. He done his best to drag me off to a far distance not too far away from the main battle.
He opened up with, "There's still a way out! You're better than this." I hated that, when people spoke like that they most likely had prior knowledge of the person.
In all honesty, you can never fairly judge someone. And his profession was one where it was more than necessary.
A sharp cry cut the night. Glasslock stumbled out of wreckage, blood seeping from her side where a jagged crystal protruded. Hojo stood over her, his body shimmering with sharp edges of pink that came from his quirk.
"We have no reason to be surrendering to you heroes."
Glasslock managed to deflect a strike, but Hojo's hit still connected. The impact was brutal and it sent her sprawling. Her glass armour shattered and her quirk faltered.
"Glasslock!" Centipeder shouted, abandoning his chase for Mimic to rush by her side.Lemillion was silent and to hammer in that I did not need his help, I quickly formed a large pair of scissors and kicked upward one side that was powerful enough to cut his hand off.
But it phased through, and then he dipped into the ground, vanishing.
"Behind you!" Hojo barked, I twisted to the side avoiding the strike Lemillion was aiming at me.
His face shown a different expression now. One of rage. That earlier pleading look had disappeared so easily.And of course it did. It meant nothing.
Massive paper, angel-like wings appeared on my back and I rose to the air avoiding the barrage of punches Mirio was about to dish out. Two massive paper birds spawned near Hojo and Mimic, Hojo got on top of his and Mimic merged with his.
And with that, we flew off into the night.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The compound loomed ahead, it felt like the walls were already pressing in on me. Our footsteps echoed off the concrete as we walked through the corridors.
Mimic's voice was the first to break the oppressive silence.
"You think you're so clever don't you?" His venomous words were directed at me, snapping like a whip. "Don't think I didn't notice how you were holding back there. Did you even fight that hero or were you just shining his boots?"
I didn't bother looking at him, "If you were paying so much attention, then you could have put in more effort into taking out the bug instead of playing hide-and-seek."
That struck a nerve, "You've got a smart mouth, you're already skating on thin ice. You think Overhaul won't see right through you."
I stopped walking, finally turning to face him. My expression was neutral, my voice even. "Maybe if you spent less time pointing fingers and more time putting an actual effort in, we wouldn't have lost the cargo."
And I whole heartedly believe that, although I would have just found another way to release them. From what I learned of Mimic's quirk, he could merge with inanimate objects and take control of them, he could have done so with the truck and got us to safety if he wanted, unless there were restrictions.
But that didn't matter, I just needed to play into this role, to fit in.
My words were like a trigger. Mimic lunged forward, his body expanded wide enough to engulf me. "You little—"
"Enough!"
Hojo's voice cut through the tension like a blade. He stepped between us, his imposing figure casting a long shadow on the wall.
"Save your tantrums for later, we've got bigger problems to deal with."
Mimic hissed but backed off, his form shrinking slightly. I met Hojo's gaze briefly, and his eyes told me everything: Keep your mouth shut in front of the boss. He was on the fence on whether or not he should believe me or so.He was more like Rappa, simple, well Rappa was really simple actually. I could outright tell him my plans then come up with some simple lie to break him out of the thought that I could be a traitor.
We finally entered Overhaul's office."You're late." his tone was sharp from behind the face mask. It was enough to make Mimic flinch. "And empty-handed."
Hojo stepped forward and done most of the talking for us. "We were intercepted by heroes. We were able to deliver from our end, but we lost the cargo."
Overhaul's eyes narrowed, his hands tightened before he placed them in-front of him in a calming effort.
"Heroes? What tipped them off?" His voice dripped with disdain.
Mimic, the little critter, wasted no time. He pointed a gnarled appendage at me, "It was him. I've been saying it from the start, this Soryu bastard's not loyal."
I raised an eyebrow. "Blaming me for your own incompetence? Bold strategy."
"Enough!" Overhaul's voice thundered through the room, and the tension snapped like a wire pulled too tight. He stood slowly, his presence filling the space. "I don't care who's to blame. What I care about are results. Right now all I see are excuses."
His gaze locked on me though. Cold and calculating, "Kobe."
I met his stare unflinchingly.
"You've been useful before," he continued, his voice was low but carrying the weight of a threat. "But loyalty is like a blade—it dulls overtime if not sharpened. I don't tolerate dull blades."
I gave a small nod, choosing silence over defiance.
He gestured for us to leave, Mimic edged closer and jumped on his desk though.
"Also guys remember." Overhaul disrupted. "Failure is never acceptable."***Back in my quarters, I closed the door and let out a slow breath before laying still on my bed. I checked the place every night to see if it was bugged. It wasn't, which made for what I planned next more calming and even somewhat exciting.
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, my hand lifted and paper formed and scrunched up to look like a certain figure, Mimic.
"Let's see what you're up to with the boss now."
When Mimic decided to merge with the bird I used to allow for our escape from the scene I kept a small piece of it on him from the moment we landed. I made sure to land in the dark shade of trees. So a piece of my paper stuck to him and was now acting like a listening device.
The first thing I heard was....***He's a loose canon," Mimic spat out, referring to me with a barely restrained malice. "The way he carries himself? Like he's untouchable. You seen in right now boss. I believe he handed those kids to the heroes. If it weren't for me we would all have been caught."
Overhaul remained silent at Mimic's bold faced lie. His gloves were tapping the surface and he didn't interrupt Mimic's tantrum but the air grew heavier the longer it went on.
"And what's worse?" Mimic pressed on, leaning forward as if to drive the point home. "He's got no respect. No fear. You think he's loyal? I'd bet my life he's playing both sides."
Overhaul finally looked up, his gaze sharp. "Your life? That's a steep wager Mimic." He said with a soft danger to his tone. "Anyway, the reason I included him to the team even though he lacked that fear and respect is the same reason I took on Toya. They've both got no goals, no regard for their lives. It's what makes them good tools."
Mimic flinched, pulling back slightly but refusing to back down entirely. "I'm telling you, that doesn't matter, he's a risk to this family."
There was a long pause. Overhaul stood, his movements slow and deliberate as he adjusted his gloves. "Do you know what separates someone who's valuable from someone that's expendable?"
Mimic hesitated, unsure if whether the question was rhetorical or not. "Loyalty," he answered tentatively.
"No." Overhaul stepped closer, his presence was suffocating. "Results. Ever since he has been here there have been rumours of people staying away, equating the kid to a boogeyman that they don't want to mess with. The family's name has risen again if only slightly. He has brought us results."
He gestured vaguely at mimic, "You on the other hand, have been whining and bitching about him since he's been here and this is your first time meeting the punk."
Mimic bristled, his form flickering erratically. "Boss, I—"
Overhaul raised his hand, silencing him. "I have someone in the police force. He'll comb through every frame of the footage from tonight that was recorded from the police dashcams. If there's a traitor in our ranks, I'll find them." His voice remained sharp, cutting through the air like a scalpel. "Until then, just do as I ask...."
Mimic recoiled and muttered. "Understood.
The paper tagging him disintegrated to nothing...***The conversation had gone more or less how I expected, other than the final pieces of it. About his version of useful and expendable tools, and most importantly, the police cameras.
"I could be screwed here." Sure the people in the car wouldn't have noticed my acts because of the intensity of the situation, but that didn't mean the camera's would have missed it. I laid down in bed staring at the ceiling and weighing my options.
There would be a couple hours or maybe a full day or two before he got this supposed police officer to get him all the details.
I still had the advantage, for now. But the cracks were starting to show.___The sound of the machines in the hospital room filled the silence of the room. Centpeder stood at the foot of the bed where an unconscious Glasslock lay, her face pale against the sterile white of the pillow. Her side was bandaged, but the jagged wound beneath was a grim reminder of how close she had come to death.
Centipeder clenched his mandibles, frustration bubbling under his composed exterior. "This isn't right," he muttered, his voice was low but a bubbling anger radiated from it. "She shouldn't have to pay for someone else's recklessness."
Bubble girl, standing by the window, crossed her arms. Her usual bright demeanour was dimmed, replaced by a sharp edge. "You mean Sōryū," she said bluntly, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone. "His tip-off put her here. It's like he doesn't even think about the fallout."
Centipeder nodded. His gaze never left Glasslock. "He's just a careless brat. We should have put him in cuffs from the moment we seen him..." his voice trailed off, his claws tightening around the edge of the bed. "He won't walk away next time!"
Sir Nighteye had walked in with Mirio at his back.
Mirio's face was downcast. He didn't radiate that same ray of sunshine he usually did. He looked heavily remorseful. Sir Nighteye kept his appearances up but it was clear that he was still deeply affected from this.
Sir Nighteye pressed the bridge of his glasses closer to his nose. "I'm glad that you all made it back alive. I just wish the circumstances could be better."
"It's my fault." Mirio spoke up, he bowed to everyone in the room. "I was the one that accepted Sōryū's tip-off and dragged everyone into this, I should have contacted Sir first."
"Don't blame yourself, you made a call and in the end we still rescued two civilians."
That was true, the two in question were in hospital rooms of their own, knocked out with hospital staff attending them and police officers waiting outside to guard as well as take their reports once they wake up.
"She will pull through!" Sir Nighteye said "But blame will not heal her. Nor will it change out current situation."
Bubble girl spoke up with the slightest bit of disrespect pointed to her boss."With all due respect sir, someone has to take blame for this. And I feel one person deserves it more than Overhaul."
Centipeder droned out the conversation, his mind was elsewhere. He looked at Glasslock's face, her expression so peaceful it felt wrong. He couldn't let this stand. Sōryū had led them to this. Centipeder wasn't as tolerant as Sir Nighteye and he was fine with that, it got things done the right way.
Even if he had to do things a little underhanded, he would do so to restore the teams balance.
Centipeder was going to do something that he knows wouldn't be accepted by Nighteye, but as he continued to stare into Glasslock's form he decided he wouldn't need his permission for this.
Later as he stepped out of the hospital room to the crisp glow of the sun, his mind was spinning on wheels. He had made a decision and now was off to set it in stone.***The coffee shop was alive with chatter, a lively hum of overlapping voices punctuated by the hiss of the espresso machine. The scent of roasted beans hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sugary sweetness of the pastries from the display case. A lively space for unwinding.
Centipeder would usually spend some time here, more so in his younger years since this place and the area in general were typically more accepting of mutants like him. He looked scary, he would hear it a lot and it always made him feel lesser than. But he found a comfort here.
And not only him, the greedy and ambitious swine always find themselves comfortable in the same spaces not meant for them. And that is what he is looking for now.
Centipeder gained a few curious glances as he looked around, he adjusted his tie more so out of habit to fit in more. His scanning of the room stopped when he found the character he was looking for. Kenji Kubo, the journalist with a penchant for stirring up troubling headlines. Kenji's presence was impossible to miss.
At the corner, the man held court, his animated gestures carving shapes in the air. His voice was relentless and sharp, in a news anchor way. "I'm telling you, the system's rotten top to bottom." he declared, waving a half empty coffee cup as if it were a gavel. "Heroes covering for politicians, politicians covering for villains..." Centipeder believed their could be some truth to his odd conspiracies but that's not what was important now.
The small audience around him were nodding and laughed nervously, more drawn in by his charisma than the conspiratorial tirade.When a small and sweet lady in the shops uniform asked the crowd to disperse for intimidating the customers Centipeder went on the move.
"Kenji Kubo?"
Kenji blinked and stared up at the voice, startled. Then his lips stretched into a grin, a practise ease masking his surprise. "Well, well, well. If it isn't part of societies finest. To what do I owe the pleasure Mr Centipede?" His tone was equal parts sarcasm and intrigue.
Centipeder ignored the jab, producing a manila envelope from his coat and placing it on the table with a soft thud. He slid it across to Kenji, who raised a brow but didn't immediately reach for it.
"This is for you," Centipeder said, his voice low.
Kenji's grin widened as he picked up the envelope. "What's this, a love letter, I get enough of those already. Or is it...." he slightly opened it and flicked through the pages, his eyes widening as he scanned through each page. The grin faded, replaced by an intense focus.
Kenji let out a low whistle, shaking his head.
"This is good. Where did you get this?... Scratch that, why are you giving this to me?"
Centipeder's mandibles clicked softly. "What matters is that it is real and actionable. Do something meaningful."
Kenji leaned back, tapping the edge of the envelope against the table. He was cautious which didn't seem to match his overall personality in Centipeder's eyes.
"You're asking me to stick my neck out here. Overhaul's not a small-time crook. He's a monster with deep pockets and deep connections. If I go after him, I'm painting a target on my back."
Centipeder crossed his arms, towering over the journalist. "You've painted targets before and you've come out unscathed because you're good at what you do."
Kenji smirked, though there was a glint of nervousness in his eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere bug-boy. I still need to know, what's in it for you? Heroes don't typically hand off intel like this without expecting something big in return from the story."
"I want to make sure that Overhaul finally get's thrown away in the place he deserves. But I also want you to highlight the new boogeyman he has working for him. Sōryū!" Yes.Centipeder photocopied the documents that he got from Sōryū, but he also added in new information all about the paper villain. There were no solid pictures of him, even from security cameras. But the drawings would be enough for people to know.
"You're serious about this... Fine. I'll bite. But you better hope this pans out, or I'll be writing a very different story with you're name at the front and center."
Without another word Centipeder got up and walked out, his long legs carrying him swiftly out of the coffee shop.
He heard Kenji's quiet envisioning of how the paper will go as he brought out his laptop to start planning.
"Front page," he muttered to himself, a grin creeping back onto his face. "No bigger. This is Pulitzer Material."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Article title:
Unveiling Overhaul: A glimpse into the mob's horrors.Date: April 4, 2256By:
Kenta Kubo, The heroes insight.___________For decades the underworld has been rife with whispers of powerful figures exploiting humanity's darker impulses. But Overhaul is a chilling embodiment of villainy that we have not seen in many years. Recent leaked information has shattered the veil of secrecy surrounding how he operates, revealing crimes so grotesque they defy comprehension.
Human Experimentation.Leaked photographs have exposed a grim catalogue of Overhaul's experiments. The images are too graphic to reproduce here. Just know they depict grossly merged human beings:- Human's fused with other humans. Their limbs unnaturally elongated, faces distorted into grimaces of pain.- Animals spliced with humans, creating nightmarish hybrids that are neither fully human nor beast.- Merged animals, forming species that are in intense agony. Examples would include a Pitbull's body and legs with the head and wings of a crow, or the the arms of a bear and the neck of a giraffe, making creatures that look completely new and unfounded on this planet.
These experiments are believed to be an exploit of Overhaul's quirk. His quirk on the other hand allows him to control matter, giving power to an already dangerous name.
TriggerYakuza venturing into the drug trade is never going to be surprising. But with Overhaul he deals Trigger, and even worse than that he has created a new strain that keeps people coming back until they eventually die from it.
We have found out minor bits of information on how this new strain was made.He laces the quirk-enhancing drug with a substance called Delirium, after some research we have found out that the compound comes from overseas in Brazil.
Delirium is a highly addictive compound that intensifies the affects of Trigger while creating a dependency that spirals users into continued use.
The effects on the body after repeated use lead to a gruesome death caused by the rupture of blood vessels and or even the heart. Emergency room cases linked to these symptoms have skyrocketed in recent months, pointing to widespread distribution.
The Boogeyman: SōryūThere is a new figure enforcing Overhaul's will and he goes by, Sōryū.
This figure has reportedly orchestrated multiple kidnappings for the mob boss. Specifics of him remain unknown but his quirk is described to be related to wielding paper constructs. He is said to be likened to a "Living Storm".
Sōryū's name is quickly making it's way across the underworld.
A Call For JusticeThe revelations have ignited public outrage, citizens demand immediate action from the heroes and law enforcement.
"This is a level of evil that should only exist in fiction." one Tokyo resident commented. Other's gave similar comments as well as pleas for Heroes to step up and bring these monsters to justice.
While authorities remain tight-lipped all we can do is watch, wait and hope for justice.{Editorial note}We at the Heroes insight will continue to investigate and report on the Shie Hassaiki's activities. If you have information or tips, please contact us through secure channels.___The conference room had buzzed with a tense sense of urgency, it was in a building belonging to the Heroes commission. The air charged with collective focus of some of the nation's strongest heroes.
Yuki Arakawa, hero name Genesis, stood near the back, her arms crossed over her chest, Gang Orca's commanding presence resonating beside her. She had seen the hero article that went public in the early hours of the morning, even subscribed to the newsletter.Her stomach was twisting in knots.
Her eyes roved over the faces around the table ignoring the one's stood further away in the large room, Ryukyu, her classmates Nejire Hado and Mirio Togata were also here. Kamui Woods, Mt. lady, Centipeder, and presiding over the gathering was the sharp-edged tactician, Sir Nighteye. Each had brought their expertise but Yuki couldn't shake the weight pressing her chest.
Her heart felt heavy with a gnawing suspicion that had been growing like weeds since she first read the article exposing the Shie Hassaiki. She felt sick reading the descriptions of Overhaul's experimentation, as a hero, even an intern, she was able to see the photo's of what he had done.
She swallowed hard not wanting to think too much on the parts about Sōryū. Sōryū, the name spoke with majesty, of an endless azure sky. Or a heavy storm that brings no rain but a spark of thunder.'A great change.'
Yuki remembers reading the article, just the brief mention on what his quirk may be sent her reeling. Then she found out more about what he may look like, short and having normal human like features and of African descent due to his hair. Nothing on his face since it was covered by a mask.
She felt like her mother should know, her mother was going through it now.'Is it really you Kobe?'
She wanted to say no, but it wasn't a question for her to answer. She felt sick to her stomach, he little brother, a villain, working with the worst of the worst. A kidnapper, maybe even a murderer.
Yuki could only think of their childhood, before everything had turned bad.
Kobe was... a vibrant child, too full of emotion to contain it all. When he was happy, it was as if the whole house radiated with laughter. Their father, a towering man with a dark complexion was lazy but kind, he had a penchant for card games and often indulged in Kobe's antics.
She remembered it, she could see it all clearly. Kobe, no older than five, standing in the middle of their living room, arms outstretched and some poorly folded paper cranes fluttered through the air like a miniature flock.
"Look Yuki!" He was so happy to call her, out she remembers the wide grin that felt as though it was big enough to crack the world.
Smiles that glowed but couldn't hold in the dark. Their dad had left, that was what Yuki told him. Truth was their mother kicked him out for his growing gambling addiction, he had gambled their savings away and the household had become quiet.
Kobe loved their mother, but he always had more of an affinity for their father. It was only natural. Yuki remembers their dad including him in everything and showing up for him in a way that other dad's couldn't or just didn't.
So weeks after their dad leaving, when Kobe opened the door to police announcing his death to their mother, she had seen his face curl into untold grief. Grief so clear that she couldn't even envision the same glowing smile he had once had.
He stopped smiling.
No, that's not true. He still smiled, but there was something dangerous about it, it was more volatile. Every emotion he had spilled out like a hurricane. When he was sad, it was unbearable to be near him, when he was angry, he was someone unrecognizable.
She closed her eyes, memories of the time he was in elementary school flashing through her mind like a broken reel of film. She remembers a crying Midoriya running to find her and gushing at the lip barely explaining himself properly. Kobe had attacked Bakugou.
Bakugou was already making a name for himself as the strongest in the school, Kobe was easier to tick off after their father had died and Bakugou must have said something ignorant, Yuki had never asked.
She ran as fast as she could, to the boys bathroom to see Bakugou unconscious and hung with a rope of paper that was wrapped around his neck. Blood was dripping from his head and she remember's Kobe sounding feral.She doesn't remember much of what happened next, she could only see red. She knows she got Bakugou down but after that she remembers continuously hitting flesh beneath her.
By the time it was over, Bakugou had been hospitalized for a week, the principal had called it an "Incident bordering a homicide."
Authorities visited again and their mother cried when she had agreed and signed the papers for Kobe to be sent to a behavioral facility.Yuki only watched, her heart ached, but her face was a mask of cold detachment as Kobe was dragged away with tears flowing out his eyes.
"Genesis?" Gang Orca's voice cut through the reverie, snapping her back to the present. He rarely used her real name in these settings even though she said she would prefer it, "You've been quiet."
"I'm always quiet." She straightened as she realized more eyes were on her. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she stood behind Gang Orca.
She was about to speak... this is it. This is right. Her duty.
"I believe Sōryū is my younger brother." The sentence stuttered out of her. She felt like she was about to burst in uncontrollable shakes on the spot.
A ripple of murmurs cut through mainly from the sidekicks behind her, she got a look of Mirio and Nejire's shocked faces, there was a look of concern. One she didn't need.
Sir Nighteye silenced everyone. "Explain."
Yuki took a deep breath, when Kobe had been taken to the behavior facility he was only nine. He hadn't spent a lot of time developing his quirk or anything, but they both knew enough.
"Sōryū's quirk matches my brothers. It hasn't been named but from the short descriptions I am sure it is his, there aren't many with similar quirks out there, I can fill in the blanks of what he can do to the best of my knowledge." she stayed quiet for a moment letting everyone factor in her resolve. "About two months ago now, he had left home without a trace. My mom reported it only a day later."
Yuki didn't realize the little shake that was in her tone.
Nejire, who was sat beside Ryukyu looked at Yuki with wide eyes. "Then what if he's being made to do these things because of Overhaul?"
Yuki had seen Centipeder in her periphery shake weirdly. It was hard to tell what was going on with him. What Nejire said could have some truth to it.
"There's always the possibility. But Kobe is capable of some really terrible things as he's shown in the past."
There was a look of Nighteye showing that he wanted her to carry on. She sighed.
"He got in an altercation in elementary school and had to be sent to a correctional facility for some years, so he only got back quite recently. A little over a year ago to be precise." she didn't need to explain the whole situation again, it was most likely in police records.
There wouldn't be anytime to go over them today though.
There were more mumblings, questions being asked one after another that Yuki couldn't even keep up.
Sir Nighteye raised his hand and silenced them. "Regardless. This complicates things. But Genesis, Sōryū even if he is your brother, he has committed some serious crimes that won't be absolved."
Yuki nodded, her jaw tightening. "I know. That's why I'm here. To make sure this is handled the right way. I won't let my feelings cloud my mission, I will do everything to bring him in."___"Oh shit."
I looked over the article on my phone, it was going viral online and I even got messages from previous contacts asking me if I'm Overhaul's boogeyman.
"Oh shit."
Everything cut so deep. Some shit here was just outright crap, I hadn't kidnapped anyone. I freed them. This article was written by a man named Kenta Kubo, a journalist who wasn't described in the best light but had gotten a big break in his career because of this.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, forcing a steady breath into my lungs. No time to wallow. It was still early in the compound. The shie hassaiki were probably up, and it wouldn't take long before all of them and most of all Overhaul came barrelling down my neck.
Sure it hadn't said that the leak was me, but with some of that information who else could it be.
The time limit I gave myself was seven days, but screw that, today had to be the day.
I sat cross-legged on the cold floor and summoned a sheet of paper, big enough to form into larger sizes but good enough to start off small and imperceptible. It hovered in the air, folding itself into a tiny serpent. Intricate creases turned it into a living a living construct, and as it slithered onto my open palm I blew and let it latch onto the wall and sneak around the compound as I left my room.
Time was everything now. Originally I had planned to supply the heroes with enough information to close in on Overhaul and once they mounted their attack I was going to disappear with Eri while Overhaul and the rest of them were busy with the heroes.
Now I got to hold them off on my own.___The halls were quiet as the snake made it's way to the bunker underground labyrinthine corridors. I saw it's journey as faint impressions through my quirk's connection to it. Every turn, every shadow it slipped into fed back to me. It adjusted and shifted it's path to avoid any detection.
When it finally reached Eri's room I had been confronted by Overhaul and the rest of the family, exposed. But outside his office.
The snake slid under the crack under the door. She was curled up in the corner, her wide eyes were full of exhaustion. When the snake appeared, her gaze followed it, wary.
It unfolded into a small round figure that resembled a teddy bear and waved at her to ease her fears. It then waddled to the door and jumped up high and pressed on the green button to high for her to reach.
The door opened...___"Kobe," The smooth voice of Chronostasis called out to me from behind.
I lifted my head up and turned to see them all, the Shie Hassaiki, surrounding me.Mimic spoke up this time, he was on the shoulder of Rappa.
"Explain how the heroes and the media got their hands on so much information about us." It was a demand, behind him though was Overhaul.
I could see a vein protruding from his head. He was in rage. But he was outside his office, good.
I tilted my head, a flicker of bemusement crossing my face. "You think I'm chatty enough to leak your little secrets?" My tone was light, dismissive, masking the sharp calculation in my mind. "Maybe you should look at your operational security."
Chrnostasis sneered, his hand was in his coat but from the bulge I could see that he had a weapon, katana most likely. "You've been out of sight more often than not, that doesn't exactly inspire trust."
Overhaul raised a gloved hand. He looked exhausted, there were dark circles around his eyes. "Enough!" his voice was as cold as steel. I could feel the enmity. "I'll ask the questions."
Nemoto stepped forward with him, like a good lap dog. His presence stayed quiet. "Let me handle this boss." He said, his quirk already active. Overhaul nodded, granting him permission.
Nemoto's gaze locked onto mine, his words cutting through the air. "Did you give any information about the Shie Hassaiki to any outside party that don't have out best interests?"
My paper serpent had already reached Eri's door. I could feel it's feint presence pressing on the green button to safely open the exit without alerting the exit features...."Yes." I said simply. The word dropping like a stone into the room.
The air grew heavy as everybody in the room stiffened. Nemoto's quirk didn't allow for deceit and they all knew that.
Rappa stepped forward, his fists clenching. "This punk thinks that he can stab us in the back and stand here like nothing happened?" His voice boomed, the room practically shaking from his fury as well as his fists hitting together. "How dishonourable."
Tengai placed a hand on Rappa's free shoulder. "Not yet. Lets hear how the boss wants it."
Overhaul didn't speak for a moment. His golden eyes were fixed on me with a chilling calm. Then he chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humour. "You're really clever. Thinking you can play both sides like that, us and the heroes. But the article wouldn't be written like that if you really were double-crossing us. So... you're not with them either."
The others in the room listened intently to their boss."So where did you expect to go after ratting us out?... I brought you into my family, and this is how you repay me?"
"You didn't bring me into a family." I replied evenly. "You brought me into a machine, and whether it's faulty or brand new, a machine will always run it's due course to failure."
Overhaul's tone of mirth vanished and his gaze was a cold and hardening glare. "You Rat!" He said. "You're just a tool that think's is more than what you are. Let me remind you Kobe, of what happens to tools that break."
His hands rose and his eyes blinked, a long moment with his eyes closed. "Capture him. Alive."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The dim, flickering light of the underground halls barely illuminated her path, but Eri trudged forward, following the little paper teddy waddling ahead of her. It waved at her, a bizarre and comforting gesture amidst her fears. Her small feet echoed faintly in the silence, but her mind roared louder with memories.
The cold operating table, the antiseptic, and Overhaul's expressionless face as he leaned over her. He was her nightmare. The first time he disassembled her body, she came back screaming so hard her throat bled. She hadn't known it was possible to feel pain like that, in every part of her being all at once. When he reassembled her, there was no relief, only exhaustion and the knowledge that it would happen again.
Eri's small hands trembled as she reached a corner of the wall, steadying herself. She hadn't cried in days, her tears felt used up, but her chest ached and her mind was heavy with the familiar question of:
Why me?
Twice before, she had tried to escape, and twice she had failed. Each failure brought more pain, not just for her but for others. She didn't even know her guards name, the one who had read her the story of Momotaro and kept her company in the silence. Yer the sight of his paper creation in front of her fills her with... hope, and a want to trust in that.
The paper teddy stopped abruptly in front of her, turning toward her with what seemed like a reassuring nod. She glanced around and realized it had led her to a large, rusted door. She hesitated, reaching out with trembling fingers as the teddy jumped and pressed the button to open it. The door creaked as sunlight spilled into the darkness. For the first time in forever, she felt the touch of fresh air on her skin.
And then, in a rush of wind, the teddy dissolved into scraps, and before a gasp could escape her lips, a hand grabbed her.___The classroom of class 1-A buzzed with chatter. Their homeroom teacher hadn't walked in yet, leaving them all to discuss current matters.
Overhaul was the latest topic.
Mina Ashido, Hanta Sero, and Eijiro Kirishima had all huddled around the desk of one angry Katsuki Bakugou.
"Maybe it's a mutant quirk," Kaminari speculated, "Like Tokoyami, but... paper?"
"Mutant?" Sero replied with a questioning tone. "Paper doesn't mutate."
'Paper.' Bakugou hadn't read the article that his desk mates were talking about, he was zoning in and out of their conversation until they had brought that up. A bad memory popped into his mind.
'Damn Paper Mache head.'There weren't many, or actually he didn't think there were any heroes with paper quirks, even if he nabbed Deku's books he was sure the only paper related quirk he would find belonged to their former childhood classmate.
Looking up he see's the curly green haired boy run out of class.
'Well, I gotta run too.'
There was more he wanted to find out so he pushed his chair out and quickly walked out of class, ignoring the four-eyed class president.
Behind him he could hear Kirishima to Sero. "What's with those two?"___(Half an Hour before)Overhaul paced his office. The early morning light filtered through the blinds, but it did little to soften the growing storm within him. The articles revelations burned his mind. And once reading it he only thought of one thing.
He wanted to crush Kobe into a thousand pieces, over and over and over again.The reason he was so sure it was Kobe who leaked the information was because some of it, like the pictures of his merged corpses, only Kobe would have known of them. Those specific one's anyway, and he doubts Mimic or Hojo would ever.
He made sure to only show them to Kobe, the new guy. He would be fine with that leaking because then he would know who the traitor is and kill him the second he got his eyes on him. But his operations too.
His drug routes, no wonder why all his dealers had been getting caught up by the police. His Trigger, it was only time before law enforcement start putting in more of an effort to lock down the whole trade, 'No more Delirium for me.' But there was no news about the quirk erasing bullets. He wondered why but he was glad.
When Overhaul had put on a new mask and was about to walk out of his office to scatter Kobe with the wind, a dark swirly and misty portal appeared. 'Kurogiri.' And then a voice.
"Bring him to me!" It was All for One. 'Just fucking great...'
All For One's voice spoke in a clear demand that Overhaul knew he shouldn't refute. "The boy's potential aligns with my goals."
Yeah right, Overhaul knew that, that didn't really matter. Kobe had an interesting enough quirk, that's what the scrotum-faced fucker really wanted. Although he would never say that to his face.
Overhaul didn't deny All for One of his request, in fact he didn't even have the time to. As soon as he gave his orders the warp gate disappeared.
Overhaul hated that, he hated how he was just at that man's whims because he may have been a little stronger. He doesn't actually know, he had never fought him, but he hated it. But he couldn't deny All For One's influence. Not yet.He slammed his fist through his desk, and a tremor ran through the room.
"Fuck it. We're hunting!"___The convoy roared down the narrow roads leading to the Shie Hassaiki compound. Lemillion sat in the back of one of the lead cars, his jaws tight and his fists clenched on his lap.
His mind churned with conflicting thoughts. The article about Overhaul had been a shocker. The information didn't make Overhaul look like just a standard criminal, he looked like a monster.
But at the center of Lemillion's mind, was Sōryū, a figure that had eluded him and still managed to leave his mark with every step.
Genesis's, his classmates younger brother.
Mirio couldn't shake the image of Yuki's face from his mind during the meeting earlier. The weight she carried when she admitted Sōryū was her brother stuck with him deeply. Yuki had never spoke about her brother, it was found out once before their second year had started that she was in a happier mood about him coming home again for some reason. Now they all knew that he was in a correctional facility, 'Like a Juvenile hall then?'
But to know that her younger sibling could get caught up in such darkness was probably unthinkable for her.
As they neared the compound, he glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of his own reflection. There was a shadow in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Fighting was something he excelled at but since Glasslock had been injured, the sharp edges of battle felt heavier. Her wound was just a reminder of how deadly hero work can be.
But the image of Sōryū kept popping back into his mind. 'He clearly has the skills, so why wouldn't he just leave?'
There must be something keeping him there, Mirio thought. Maybe Overhaul someone in the Shie Hassaiki and he knew him from the correctional facility and wanted to help him get out, or maybe Overhaul has a subordinate using a weird quirk on him to make him stay around him.
So what, or who is making Sōryū stay?
He doesn't know now, but... "Hero work is about saving everyone," Lemillion muttered. "Even the one's that may not deserve it."___The room was a whirlwind of motion, the walls were trembling under the weight of confrontation. of battle as I fought to keep my head above water. Every second was a lifetime, and every move had to count.
Rappa came at me first, fists moving like a cannon fire, each strike splitting the air with an audible roar. His quirk wasn't subtle, but it didn't need to be, brute force could be unrelenting and effective. I slid out of his range, forming a curved shield in the same motion. His punch met my shield and the impact sent a shockwave through the room and the shield held.
"Come on Sōryū!" Rappa roared, his grin wide and unhinged. "Throw an actual hit."
"I thought we were just warming up," I shot back, my tone light. A flick of my wrist transformed the shield into a spear, it's pointed edge gleaming as I drove it towards him. He twisted, narrowly avoiding it, and countered with another flurry of punches forcing me to leap back.
Chronostasis was next, his movements measured. A dart whizzed past my ear, embedding itself in the wall behind me. Another followed, faster this time, and I abruptly managed to duck as it sliced through the air where my neck had been. I retaliated with a wave of paper knives that flew in his direction. Sharp and lethal, forcing him to run behind a pillar.
The ground beneath me had shifted suddenly, jagged spikes erupting from the floor most likely Mimic since Overhaul was still a short distance away with his gloves on.
Mimic's voice echoed around the room. "You're not slipping away this time you rat!" He'd merged with the environment, his presence was felt in every vibration of the walls and floors.
I leaped, wings of paper unfurling from my back and carrying me upwards just enough to avoid the spikes but not high enough to touch the ceiling. The spikes missed me by a few inches, crumbling into dust as Mimic reshaped the terrain. My wings folded into blades and I dived, slicing through the stone floor below and forcing Mimic to disengage.He reappeared in his diminutive form, darting toward me in a snarl.
"Not bad," I said, as the small frame collide with a wall. "But for your height you should be more of a silent attacker."
I didn't know his real height, or at least I didn't know if that cloth-like dwarf form was his real height.
Nemoto circled around the chaos, his sharp eyes never leaving me. He hadn't used his quirk. I was thinking he would to throw me off guard, he still probably is thinking that.
Hojo joined the fray, crystalline shards forming in his hands as he hurled them at me with precision. I countered with a barrier of paper, the shards shattered harmlessly against it. With a flick of my hand, the barrier transformed into a scorpions tail, lashing out and forcing Hojo to dive for cover.
Overhaul had arrived with a slow gait. He stood staring at me, he was concerned. His hands were clasped in front of him. The tension in his posture was only a sign of his growing frustration.
"You're full of surprises Sōryū," he finally said. His voice was calm but still hinted his growing hate for me. "But I can't help but wonder... What was your plan? Why join us in the first place?"
I didn't answer, not immediately. Not until Nemoto asked. "Why did you stay within Overhaul's organization?"And the answer that slipped out of my mouth even shocked me.
"To save her!" I said before I could stop myself. Honestly, I thought that the answer would be to find out if his organization was connected to the Eden Project. But no, with that answer Eri, the girl with hair of purity and eyes of ruby jewels, she was the answer that came to mind first.
Overhaul's eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before it was replaced by cold fury. "Her?" He repeated and his voice was low and dangerous.
I didn't wait for him to piece it together. The moment his expression shifted, I moved. Wings of paper unfurled once more, and I launched myself toward a shattered window. The shie hassaiki launched toward me with Overhaul stomping over them to try and grab a hold of me.
The wind rushed past me as I soared out of reach.
Below, I saw her. Eri, just stepping out of the exit, her eyes wide as the paper teddy dissolved in front of her. Relief surged through me, I dipped low, scooping her up with one arm as her tiny hands clung to my shirt. "Hold on." I whispered, and in a final burst of energy, I ascended to the sky.
Behind us the compound erupted in chaos. Overhaul's guttural roar of "Eri!" tore through the air, his voice was raw and primal, it made Eri clutch me tighter. But his voice was drowned out by the thunderous crash of walls crumbling as the heroes stormed the compound.
Sirens were loud as they parked by the compound. Countless yakuza thugs were put in the forefront of a fight they had no idea was going on.
I soared even higher. My eyes swept the horizon, but my attention snapped forward when movement caught my eye. A streak of blue energy and a flash of animated brilliance that I was so used to started closing in on me fast.
One was from Ryukyu's agency, Nejire Hado, another third year at UA. 'I sure am getting lucky with them.' And the other was... My big sister.
Nejire's spiralling energy streams propelled her through the sky with graceful precision, while my sister, Yuki, had animated her shoes into winged constructs, their silver forms gleaming as they carried her effortlessly alongside her classmate.
The sight was surreal and I'd be lying to say I wasn't a little starstruck.
"Stop!" Yuki's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, cutting through the rush of wind around me.
I faltered, glancing back and our eyes locked. Her expression was a mixture of determination, anger and something else harder to define. My heart tightened.
"Yuki," I whispered, the name barely audible over the roar of the winds.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The whirring of police sirens filled the air as did the thunderous sound of Mt.Lady tearing through the compound walls, fortunately a sidekick with X-ray vision had gave her the clear to do so since there was no one in the area she was tearing down.
This gave Nejire as well as everyone else the chance to quickly go in and tear this organization down.
Nejire Hado hovered over the chaos, her spiralling energy spinning like ribbons as they propelled her gracefully through the sky. From her vantage point she was quick to see the smoke and debris billow into the air, Overhaul's compound was already turning to rubble under the heroes combined force.
Nejire glanced to the side, catching Yuki Arakawa, Genesis. Genesis was rigid, her posture as cold and disciplined as the personality that Nejire got to know. But Nejire could see tension radiating from her form.
The roar of Overhaul's voice calling for someone—Eri—cut through the air. It was a sound that made even Nejire flinch. The desperation and anger in his voice made her skin crawl.
Nejire's gaze followed the commotion, and her eyes widened as she spotted a figure shooting into the sky. It was unmistakeable: the swirling wing of paper, the distinct silhouette was carrying a... child in his arms.
"Sōryū," she muttered, her voice was barely audible over the wind. That was the villain that Genesis had identified as her younger brother.
Nejire had looked to Yuki and saw her tense. Her cold facade cracked just for a moment, as she locked on to the figure flying in the air. Nejire didn't need to be a mind reader to tell what she was thinking, that was her family.
The shoes Yuki wore were laced with wing like attachments, without a word they came to life. Nejire had always admired her quirk, the way she can bring things to life was captivating. Wings sprouted from the side of her silver boots, unfolding like a metal phoenix, and Genesis launched herself into the air.
"Genesis wait!" Nejire called out, but Genesis didn't hesitate to zoom past her. She surged forward, the intensity in her movements matching the storm brewing within her.
Nejire propelled herself after her classmate, spirals of energy crackling around her like lightening. The wind tore at her hair, and her mind raced. She thought of the Sōryū that they had been briefed on, just another careless enforcer of Overhaul's will. But seeing him now, carrying a child so carefully. It didn't add up.
As they closed the gap, Nejire focused on the child in Sōryū's arms. She was tiny, her white hair catching the sunlight as it streamed behind her. Nejire's heart clenched. Who was she? Why was Sōryū carrying her?
The child clung to Sōryū tightly, her face buried in his shoulder. Nejire noticed the way he held her, not like a kidnapper fleeing the scene, but like someone trying to shield her from pain.
"Genesis!" Nejire called out, Genesis seemed to be paying mild attention without letting her eyes leave Sōryū. "I think... I think that your brother is saving that girl."***The air felt heavier than it should have been at this altitude. My wings of paper flexed against the breeze, Eri was clinging to me like it was the only lifeline she had left. Below us chaos reigned, the compound was being crushed, the biggest figure's I could see were Mt. Lady and Ryukyu.
But my focus was on someone else. Someone in front of me.
Yuki.
She hovered there, just a few feet away, her animated silver wings on her feet kept her on a level playing field. Her violet eyes burned with the same fire they always had, they were just sharper now, colder. She was Genesis. That's what they called her now, 'good hero name,'
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The wind filled the silence, carrying with it the distant echoes of battle. But I wasn't here anymore. Not really, her face had yanked me back to a memory that blurred into my mind...
I was in fifth grade, the boys bathroom. I was standing below Katsuki Bakugou as he was held in the air by white sheet like rope. His face pale, his lips gasping for air.
The paper rope twisted around his neck tightening with each pulse of a psychotic anger that was in me. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead where I'd slammed him against the sink.
I didn't hear the door open, but I felt hands her hands on me, strong and unrelenting.
Yuki who had already progressed into middle school was there for some reason I don't recall. She ripped me away with force that left my shoulder aching for days. I barely had enough time to process what was happening before a fist collided with my face. Then again. And again.
I heard a thud of most likely Bakugou falling on the floor of the stall he was in.
My sister didn't stop. Her fists rained down on me in a storm of anger and disgust. I tasted my own blood for the first time then. My vision blurred. It was like she wanted to erase something in me, or maybe just me. That's what I felt at the time.
It wasn't until a teacher pulled her off of me that it ended. Even then, her voice echoed in my ears:
"You're sick Kobe. You're bad, you're terrible."
I don't know why, but hearing her in a tone I had never heard before, spitting out what felt like hate to me. It didn't sit right with me. She wasn't like that before.
I remember asking her something about what she had said, thinking that since she seemed calmer now she would take it back. I wanted her to take it back. Why? Cause it still wasn't sitting right with me.
"Nobody good would have to ask that. No matter what bad people do, bad people stay bad."
I think I stared up at her taller frame with nausea, it was like I was seeing two sets of her pointing a finger at me telling me I'm wrong. I was wrong, but it was a lapse in judgment. A mistake. I could come back from it, I could do better.
But I wasn't given the chance, the next thing I remember is my Mom's tears as she gave me away to authorities.
I think I was crying that day.
Years later, Yuki's eyes hadn't changed. That same cold detachment, the same judgement. And I wanted to say I hate her for it."You've hit a new low Kobe!" her voice cut like thin ice, "Working for a man like Overhaul? Do you even understand what you've done? What he's done?"
There she was, ready to act as the judge, jury and executioner. Eri shifted in my arms, clutching to my jumper. I took a steadying breath, my voice deliberately light as I replied.
"Yeah. I've also read the headlines. Sounds like he's not so nice a guy." I then pointed down. "He's down there somewhere, you should probably go searching..."
Her jaw clenched, the veneer of calm beginning to crack. "Human experimentation. Dealing drugs. Kidnapping. Murder." The list goes on. "This isn't a game Kobe."
"They call me Sōryū now, and have you ever thought that I just don't care." I said shrugging my shoulders.
She flinched, but her expression hardened almost immediately. "You don't mean that. You can't mean that."
"Why not?" I shot back, letting a faint smile tug at my lips. "After all, I'm already a villain in your story aren't I? The bad guys can't change, am I wrong?"
Her eyes flickered, the tiniest sign of doubt creeping in, but she didn't bite. "This isn't about you. This is about what you're doing now. The kid in you're arms, she's just another one of Overhaul's pawns. You think you're saving her? You're not."
"Maybe you're right," I said dismissively, though the words did leave a odd sting that I won't admit. "But I'm not handing her over to you. She doesn't need to be a part of your weird hero fantasy."
The blue haired girl, I almost forgot she was here. But she spoke up."Kobe, if you care about her, why are you running? If you're doing the right thing, prove it. Let us help."
A sharp and perverse voice invaded my head only to shout...'{You Don't Need Help!}'
"I don't need help." A bitter laugh escaped my mouth. 'I'm wasting time here.'
"Then tell us," Yuki demanded, her voice rising with frustration. "Stop hiding behind your arrogance and say something real!"
My heart felt like it skipped a beat. There was anger, shame, regret, hate, distrust, rage, fear, annoyance, anxious, aggressive, resentment and shock.
All of it twisted and shook inside me. I let out an uncharacteristic giggle and held on to Eri tighter without meaning to. I felt like soaring to the highest point of the sky and crashing down with a big nuke to satiate those growing emotions.
Yuki's expression hardened, her wings shifted as if she was preparing for a charge. But before she could move, a sound shattered the tension between us. A guttural roar, raw and furious, seemingly so close to us.
"GIVE HER BACK!"___Overhaul staggered amidst the rubble of his home. Dust choked the air, he gave a minor thanks for the fact that he had left his father, the ex boss back in Kyushu.
Mt. Lady's catastrophic entrance reverberated through his bones. The screams of his subordinates mixed with the crackle of flame and the sharp, metallic screeches of collapsing steel.
His mind was ablaze with a single thought—betrayal.
Kobe. The name sent a wave of rage crashing through him. That ungrateful worm, his facade of usefulness had shattered. Overhaul's jaw clenched as his gloved hand trembled. He'd known from the time he met him that he was an enigma. He had operated outside of the family's typical rhythm.But to take Eri—to steal her from under his watchful eye—was a transgression too far. Screw what All For One wants. He can have his rotting corpse and turn it into one of his Nomu when Overhaul is done with him, because he does not plan on allowing him to leave alive.
His breath came in short bursts as he glared upward, catching a fleeting glimpse of them. Tiny silhouettes disappearing into the sky.
Overhaul stood brushing the debris off his coat with deliberate precision, the minor thugs he had brought with him stood on the front lines, surprising but he was glad. The noise and dirt was unbearable, like a cacophony meant to mock his failures.
He turned sharply, catching a glimpse of Rikiya Katsukame hoisting a large piece of rubble over his shoulder. "Rikiya!" Overhaul barked. "Come here!"
Rikiya approached, his hulking frame casting a shadow over the debris-strewn ground. His massive hands streaked with blood and dust. "Boss, the heroes—"
Without warning, Overhaul reached out his free hand finding purchase on Rikiya's chest. The man tensed as Overhaul's quirk surged through him, and in a grotesque instant, their forms had began to merge. Bones cracked, flesh formed and Rikiya's mass became a part of Overhaul.His heightened frame, muscular and pulsating with stolen energy, now he was coursing with newfound power.
The sensation was intoxicating.
Strength. He could feel the pull of Rikiya's quirk enhancing him, and he was still in full control. His battered form felt rejuvenated. His veins throbbed with renewed vigor as the chaos around him blurred into a singular focus—Retrieve Eri.
But Rikiya's power wasn't enough.
"Tengai!" Overhaul's voice thundered. The barrier quirk user stumbled forward, his usually calm demeanour rattled. The smoke cleared and some of the heroes got a clear look at him...
"Boss—"Just like Rikiya, Tengai didn't even get the chance to react. Overhaul's hand gripped his subordinate. The merging was faster this time, more precise. Overhaul assimilated Tengai's ability in his already growing grotesque form.
The shift was visible, an armoured shell now layered his body, the feint glow of Hekiji's barrier shimmering his elongated arms and legs. The energy coursing through him felt great.
He flexed his overgrown limbs experimentally. Then leaped. The barriers propelled him upward with a force that shattered the ground beneath him, sending waves of debris outward like a bomb had detonated.
Heroes scattered below. Mt. Lady shielded herself with her arms as the shockwave rippled through her stance. Ryukyu, in her dragon form, roared and snapped toward him with a ferocious intent, but Overhaul darted past her with blinding speed, his enhanced strength and barriers cutting through the air.
Above, the wind whipped through his grotesque form as he locked onto the fleeting figures—Kobe and Eri!
His voice erupted into the pale blue skies, animalistic and seething with hatred."GIVE HER BACK!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sir Nighteye was apart from the chaos of the raid. He had already pieced together that Centipeder was the one to leak the news of Overhaul and mainly, Sōryū. Nighteye had planned to reprimand him after the raid. But now, his mind had dulled.
He leaned against the side of a police van, one hand gripping the edge of the door for support. His head bowed, and his eyes, usually alight with focus, were clouded with something dark.
His voice was quiet, barely audible as a tremor escaped his lips... "This future...? It's too grim."The future was set in stone. That was his belief, his quirk hadn't been wrong yet. But what he had just seen, it was enough for him to do a double take on that just so he could carry on with the rest of his day. The future was set in stone. But he needs to find a way to change it.
A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sir. Overhaul has leapt for Sōryū. What's our next step?" It was Mirio... Lemillion.
Nighteye straightened, adjusting his glasses, masking the turmoil with his usual stern demeanour. His mind latched on to one certainty: Sōryū, he will be a variable in the future chaos. Capturing him is non-negotiable.
"Secure Sōryū," he said firmly, though his heart clenched. "Whatever the cost, we cannot allow him to escape."___The flush of blue in the sky turned grey from the dust of the compound even though I was further out. As soon as I spotted Overhaul jumping through the sky with barriers I turned and soared higher and further with Eri attached to me.
A second guttural roar shattered the air behind me, seething with hatred. I turned and my breath hitched. Overhaul was no longer the same well built individual I had first met in the underground fighting ring. His form was grotesque, a twisted amalgamation of muscle, armour and grotesque appendages that pulsated with life. It took a second for me to process.
He's merged. What he had done to animals and insubordination, he had now done to himself and his own loyal bullets.
'Who would have thought...'
The barriers were from Tengai, and those appendages and huge strength boost was most probably from Rikiya. I kind of wondered if they had let him do that to them willingly. Seeing how loyal some of them were, like Mimic, I wouldn't be surprised.
I cursed under my breath, adjusting Eri in my arms. There was no way I could outrun him, he would keep chasing. Maybe it was pride fuelling him. So I couldn't outrun him, or outfly him, not like this.
My wings unfurled, paper shifting and folding into massive shapes that caught the wind as I picked up more speed in the air.
"Stop!"
This voice wasn't Overhaul's, it was Yuki's, sharp and commanding. I didn't look back, but I felt her presence looming, 'those wings of her's give her some tremendous speed.' I surely wasn't expecting her to be able to keep up.Nejire wasn't far behind either, her spirals lit up the sky like fireworks.
Above, Ryukyu's dragon form tore through the air, with Mirio perched on her back like a missile ready to be launched.
It was a desperate chase now.
"Eri hold on." She didn't respond but her face buried against my chest.
Overhaul surged upward with terrifying speeds and force, his barrier enforced limbs slamming into the ground and propelling him towards us like a cannonball. I swerved hard, twisting midair as a massive hand swiped where I had been a second earlier. The shockwave rattled my bones but I couldn't stop. Even with my breath picking up as I felt my energy depleting.
"Kobe!" Yuki's voice again, this time sounding a little concerned.
I ignored her again. I couldn't stop.
Ryukyu roared as she dove toward Overhaul, her claws aimed to intercept. He twisted midair, barriers shimmering into existence just as her strike connected. The impact sent out a thunderous boom, the ground splitting beneath them as they collided.
"Keep them occupied!" Mirio shouted as he launched himself from Ryukyu's back. He phased through Overhaul's barrier, his fist colliding with the villains exposed chest. Overhaul grunted, but his retaliation was instant—a massive arm sweeping upward to swat Mirio away.
Nejire's spirals struck next, crashing into Overhaul's side and sending shards of debris flying. Genesis joined the fray, she had a spear on her back which she broke of into two weapons, animating them and hurled them at OVerhaul.
But the man was relentless, his barriers absorbing most of the impact.
I used the chaos to gain altitude, my mind racing. Overhaul wasn't just fast, he was smart, even in this monstrous state. Every strike was calculated and aimed to kill.
But Overhaul's intelligence wasn't just his strikes, it was his timing. As Mirio phased through the battlefield again, aiming for another crushing blow. Overhaul's barriers shifted. His arms lashed out with surgical precision, connecting with Mirio just as he got out of the ground after phasing. The blow landed directly on his torso, a sickening crush echoed across the battlefield.
"Mirio!" Nejire's voice broke through the brief silence as Mirio hit the ground hard, unconscious and bleeding.
Overhaul took to the skies again. He was even quicker this time. His figure was a blur as he closed in on me. But he didn't stop there, he went for someone also closing in on me—Yuki.
Overhaul's massive arm collided with her, sending her spiralling downward. Her animated wings, flailed and flickered as she plummeted towards the ground.
I dove without hesitation. With Overhaul dropping the heroes like flies, he was free reign on me. So I needed to find a way to sort him out now otherwise I'm in danger. Paper formed into a streamlined net as I caught Yuki, pulling her to a slow descent.
"Can you move?" the words came out taut with annoyance, I didn't even mean it. Yuki gave a weak nod and even weaker breaths.
"Eri," I said, my tone was softer again like I intended. I shifted her towards my sister. "Stay with her while I take care of the rest, okay?"
She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her tiny hands then clutched Yuki's arms. I rose again with a new focus on Overhaul.
With a sharp breath, I propelled myself into the fray. My wings folded into a massive crescent blade, paper edges honed to a molecular sharpness, slicing through the air. Overhaul's barriers shimmered, shifting to block my assault, but I didn't stop.I pushed harder, twisting mid-flight to create a vortex of serrated edges that ground against his defenses like a saw. The barrier cracked, but Overhaul swiped with a grotesque limb, a bone-bladed arm shooting towards me,
I split apart. Literally. It was hard to do, and daunting. But I turned to my 2-d shape and split in half, letting the strike miss me by a hair before reforming. I shot behind him in a burst of speed, forming an array of tendrils that shot towards his back. Each tendril sought to constrict, to crush, to cut.Overhaul countered, barriers sprouting out of his form like jagged blossoms to intercept my attack.
"Persistent." I muttered. A large sheet of paper unfurled from my hand, folding into an intricate spinning orb—a drill like construct. I launched it with precision, aiming for his right arm. The drill met his barrier with a resounding crack, piercing through and striking flesh. Overhaul roared, twisting to retaliate, but the momentary opening was all the Dragon hero needed.
The dragon surged forward, her jaw clamping around his other arm. She twisted it violently, tearing him off balance. I took advantage of his stumble, shaping a piece of paper into a network of weighted chains that lashed around his legs, binding him to the ground. His barriers flickered, struggling to keep up with the onslaught.
Nejire attacked from above, her spirals now a relentless torrent of energy that rained down on Overhaul. His grotesque form shuddered, his barriers barely holding. But his counterattack was brutal—bone spikes erupted from his back, shooting outward in every direction. One grazed Ryukyu's flank, drawing blood.
'What the hell is that?'That wasn't his quirk... at least to the best of my knowledge. But maybe it is something to do with it.
I ignored it for now and from ripped up paper I intentionally left out, I formed them to be sharp and swift, directing them to his exposed side. They tore through his barriers like needles through cloth, embedding themselves into his flesh. Overhaul bellowed in rage.
I evaded his flailed arm as he tried to attack me, as I attacked him again. Every move was built up to push him into an even deeper hole.
Ryukyu and Nejire worked in tandem, their attacks coordinated like clockwork. Ryukyu's strength kept Overhaul grounded, while Nejire's energy spirals chipped away at his barriers. I exploited every gap, every distraction.
But Overhaul could take a hit. He was relentless. His form pulsed, barriers reforming faster than we could tear them down. He roared, leaping into the air with a force that sent shockwaves through the battlefield. His massive arm swung toward Nejire, the bone strikes glinting with lethal intent.
"Nejire. Move!" Ryukyu shouted out. A massive paper wall intercepted the blow. The spikes tore through like butter, but it slowed him down enough for Nejire to veer away. Ryukyu lunged from below, her claws raking across his side, leaving deep gashed.
I could hear the propellors of a helicopter. I ignored it.
The battlefield trembled as Mt. Lady entered the fray, her colossal form casting a shadow over the chaos. She didn't wait for an opening. Her massive fist came down like a meteor, the force shattering the ground and sending Overhaul reeling.
And... Rikiya and Tengai split apart from him. With that one hit that sent waves of dust upward and shook the air. They split apart like the pieces of a collapsing puzzle.
I landed on the ground, breathing hard but focused.The battlefield was silent, save for the breaths of those still standing. It was over. Overhaul had lost. He was defeated and unconscious, limbs still intact but torn and broken in a way I hadn't envisioned seeing before.
'We won...'
The thought barely settled in my mind when the air shifted. It was oppressive and suffocating, the kind of feeling that sank it's claws into your very soul. The air turned cold—unnaturally so—and a pressure descended that shook my knees.
A dark portal began forming under Overhaul's subordinates, swirling like a malevolent void. The figures unconscious body slid toward it, swallowed without resistance.
"No," Ryukyu growled in her human form, staggering toward the figure being swallowed by the dark mist. Her hand reached out and the portal snapped shut before she could grab them.
Another portal formed, then another. Each one engulfed another member. Their forms were devoured by the darkness, disappearing as though they were being erased from existence.
I took a step back, breathing sharp... This wasn't Overhaul's doing.
"That's Kurogiri."Oh, from the League of Villains. But why? And what is this bloodlust?
A malice so tangible it felt like an invisible knife pressing against your throat. It was suffocating, like drowning in pith-black water while a predator circled, unseen but felt.
The last portal appeared beneath Overhaul himself. His limp form fell to it. But before he vanished, the portal paused and a voice resonated from it's depths, dark and deep, carrying a weight. It wasn't a voice meant for ears—it was meant for hearts, meant to twist them into knots of fear.
"You scurry like insects, fighting for scraps of justice. But this is only a testing phase. So, fail and fail again. All of you will crumble beneath the weight of what is to come."
The portal seemed to shiver with the resonance of it's words, Overhaul's body jerked as if some unseen force yanked him in faster.The portal closed with a deafening silence, leaving behind only the broken landscape and the weight of it's promise.
For a moment, no one moved. The battlefield, once alive with chaos and fury, now felt like a graveyard.
"Where did Kobe go?" Nejire asked as she looked around.
I was back in the skies, flying low, my body cutting through the thick atmosphere of lingering dread. I flew low, scanning the crumbled terrain until I found her—Yuki. She was cradling Eri against her chest, her expression unreadable. The sight tugged at something buried deep in me.
I landed softly, my steps slow and deliberate. Yuki looked up, her violet eyes narrowing.
"You're back," she said, her tone was neutral. She didn't move to attack, but her grip on Eri tightened protectively.
"I'm taking her," I replied flatly.
Yuki rose to her feet, keeping Eri close. "After everything? You know she's safe with us."
"Yeah, I wonder about that," I shot back.
Yuki's expression twisted, confused. "What do you mean? The fighting has stopped, Overhaul is arrested right?"
"We ran into some complications, you can ask your friends later."
I walked forward to grab Eri, she also reached out but Yuki held onto her.I sighed.
"Kobe. If you run now it doesn't matter what happens later. You'll be labelled a villain. Do you really think you're the better option?"
No. I know I'm not the better option. So why was I still trying to take her.I sighed again, the tension in my shoulders easing as I lowed my hand. "You're right," I said, surprising even myself. "I am not her saviour. I just wanted her out of that hellhole and away from Overhaul."
Yuki's gaze softened ever so slightly. "Then leave her with me, and the other heroes." She said in a quieter voice. "I'll make sure she's safe. I'll make sure she has a chance to heal."
Eri looked at me, her small hand still reaching out. I knelt down to meet her at eye level, brushing a stray strand of white hair from her face. "You'll be okay." I said softly. "Overhaul will never reach you again. Your nightmare has been defeated."
Her lips quivered and there were even tears flowing down her face. But she nodded, slowly.
I stood, stepping back as Yuki adjusted her grip on Eri, holding her protectively.
"Where will you go?" Yuki asked, her voice steadier though tinged with something resembling concern.
"Nowhere you need to follow." I replied, summoning wings of paper. They unfolded with a rustle.
"You don't have to run Kobe." Yuki said, her words carried less force this time.Truthfully, she probably does still care, even if she acts as she doesn't most of the time. She is still my sister, my one and only sister. But I still had my own thing to do.
I shook my head at her and gave one last reassuring look to Eri. I launched into the sky leaving them behind. The wind rushed past me, carrying with it the weight of the day.Eri was saved. That was good. But my fight was not over.
I need to keep moving forward. Uncover the truth about the Eden Project. Expose it's creators, it's victims, and it's legacy. And to deliver swift justice to those who turned lives into experiments.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The newsroom hummed with an urgent energy as the camera focused on the almond shade eyes of the anchor, who sat in front of a vivid backdrop of footage from a shattered compound. The bold headline below her read: "Heroic raid fails: Shie Hassaiki Escape with League of Villain's Aid?"
The anchor, her name was Reina Takano, her tone was calm but carried an unmistakeable gravity. "Good evening. In what could have been a turning point in the fight against organized villainy, last night's raid on the Shie Hassaiki compound ended in a devastating failure. Despite the combined efforts of multiple hero agencies, including those led by Sir Nighteye, Gang Orca, Ryukyu, and Mt Lady and Kamui woods. Overhaul, the yakuza boss at the center of this raid, escaped along with his subordinates through what has been confirmed to be the portal of the warp villain Kurogiri of the League."
The screen cut to footage from a helicopter. Thick clouds of dust obscured much of the compound, but flashes of battle were visible: Ryukyu in her dragon form clashing with Overhaul, Nejire's spirals, and the massive figure of Mt. Lady delivering a devastating strike. And then the swirling black portals that carried them away.
It flashed back to the anchor who was uncharacteristically playing with her chestnut coloured hair that just fell above her shoulders. Her tailored navy suit hugged her figure in a way that radiated professionalism, her chair swivelled and she spoke again in the same tone she started with.
"This raises troubling questions," the anchor continued. "about a possible alliance between the Shie Hassaiki and the League of Villains. If such a collaboration exists, it could mark the return to the chaotic villainy seen before All Might's era of peace."
The footage changed again, focusing on a new figure: Sōryū, his paper constructs were slicing through Overhaul's barriers and even worked on shielding heroes like Nejire in the fight. The movements were too blurry so there was no good quality shots of his face.
"But another figure has captured the public's attention," the anchor said. "Sōryū, a rogue individual who's motives are unclear. Footage shows him engaging Overhaul directly, fighting alongside heroes and even shielding them from harm. Yet despite this, he later on fled the scene. What is he? And what does he fight for?"***The live panel discussion began with a hero analyst, a government official, and two reporters seated around a sleek table.
The moderator addressed the group. "We've seen the footage. Sōryū was instrumental in the battle against Overhaul, yet fled the scene and evaded capture. Minister Tanaka, what is your take?"
Minister Tanaka's expression was stern. "Sōryū is not a hero. Let's not be fooled by actions. Fighting a villain does not absolve you of being one yourself. This individual operates outside of the law, ignoring the protocols and accountability that keeps our society safe. He is a vigilante at best."
The hero analyst adjusted his glasses, offering a measured counterpoint. "But minister, the footage clearly shows Sōryū saving lives of heroes that were on that field. His actions, while unorthodox, were undeniably effective. If he hadn't intervened, I'm sure we would have lost more."
"So we should praise it?" Minister Tanaka crossed his arms and his eyebrows creased. "What happens when his recklessness gets someone killed? Or when he decides that heroes are in his way? Vigilantism leads to anarchy, and Sōryū is already a dangerous figure that is growing in notoriety. He must be apprehended swiftly before he inspires copycats."
The footage replayed, focusing on the deadliness and swiftness of Soryu's attacks. Then it cut to his aerial battle with the villain. One reporter chimed in. "These movements are trained. He uses his quirk incredibly well also."
That did bring up a question. Was he just an abnormal talent. Or... "Was he trained before hand? And if so by who?"***The broadcast transitioned again, to a montage of public reactions.
A middle-aged man spoke into his microphone, his face tense. "If he's not working with the heroes, then who's he working for? Someone with power to take on Overhaul shouldn't be running around unchecked."
A younger woman countered this, "He fought Overhaul! You don't do that unless you're trying to help. I think he's being misunderstood."
Another voice, trembling with emotion, cried out. "Overhaul is still free! That's what matters. How did they let him escape? What's the point of heroes if they can't stop monsters like him?"
The anchor returned, her expression grave. "The public remains divided on Sōryū, but one thing is clear: the stakes have never been higher. The potential alliance between the Shie Hassaiki and the league of Villains is a threat that must be addressed."***Reina Takano rose gracefully from her desk as the broadcast ended, the hum of the newsroom fading into the background. Her heels clicked with precision against the polished floors, each sound crisp and deliberate, like a metronome keeping time in a soundless corridor.
Her measured stride exuded the same confidence she displayed on air, yet something was subtly... off. The sharpness of her gaze had dulled into an eerie vacancy, her lips twitched faintly as though she were resisting a grin. The rhythmic stepping of her heels echoed louder than it should have, each step reverberating as if the walls themselves were leaning in to listen.
The long hallway stretched endlessly ahead, empty and sterile. The buzzing of the lights added an oppressive drone to the silence. Reina's humming started feint, but grew louder with each step. It was a disjointed melody, sweet yet discordant, as though the tune was searching for itself.
Her pace slowed. She turned a corner and abruptly stopped, tilting her head, her dark hair casting jagged shadows across her face. The hum turned into soft, girlish giggles. They were high-pitched, staccato bursts, echoing unnaturally in the narrow space.
"Did I do good?" she asked, her voice lifting, almost childlike. The question hung in the air, unanswered, until the darkness itself seemed to ripple ahead of her.
A portal swirled into existence—a vortex of black mist and silent menace. It's edges shimmered with feint violet energy, distorting the air around it. The cold emanating from it was palpable, an unnatural chill that gnawed at the edges of existence.
Kurogiri's voice emerged from the void, smooth and unhurried yet laden with a weight that made the world feel smaller. "Excellently done, Himiko Toga."
The perfect mask of Reina Takano began to melt. Her skin, pristine and pale, rippled like liquid wax. It dripped away in jagged streams, exposing the chaotic, twisted grin and wide golden eyes of Himiko Toga beneath. Her laughter was guttural now, raw and unhinged, the sound of someone revelling in their own madness.
"Oh it was so fun!" she squealed, spinning in place, her hair flailing wildly. "They all believe me, hanging on every word." She threw her head back and continued giggling.
Kurogiri's tone remained steady, unmoved by her theatrics. "Compose yourself. Return now. We have much to discuss, and the plan advances."
With a mock bow, Himiko leaned into the portal, her voice turning into a singsong taunt. "I'm always ready to make a mess!" She vanished into the swirling darkness, her final giggles lingering like a haunting melody in an empty hall.
The portal snapped shut, and the corridor was silent once more. The flickering light above steadied for a moment before it, too, dimmed, leaving the space cold and still.___The conference room in UA's administration building was quiet. Instead a somber weight filled the space. Around the oval table sat principal Nezu, All Might, Aizawa, and Recovery Girl and Midnight. To the side, Midoriya and Bakugou were there with a bandaged Yuki Arakawa standing a few feet from them.
Nezu's small frame was deceptively relaxed in his chair. His hands were steepled before him, his black eyes sharp as ever, studying each person like an intricate puzzle. The silence hung heavy, like a string waiting to snap.
It was Bakugou who finally shattered it. His voice was rough, filled with pent-up frustration. "That bastard, Kobe or Sōryū. What is going to happen to him?" Even though he spoke with venom, he did seem interested in his fate. His hand briefly went to his neck, his scowl grew deeper.
Midoriya shifted but kept quiet. His expression was thoughtful. Nobody else spoke, the teachers were waiting for Nezu to speak up first.
Yuki, sat with her hands on her lap. She sighed. "He saved that kid, Eri. He fought Overhaul. He..." She hesitated for the briefest moment. "...he walked away because that's who he is now. He's walking his own path I guess."
Aizawa, arms crossed, spoke with his usual bluntness. "A path that's reckless and dangerous. And what for even?" No one answered, no one knew. "He's just putting himself at risk."
Midnight leaned forward after Aizawa spoke, her tone was softer but no less pointed. "There have been wildcards like him before, but they do a lot more harm than good. Sōryū, is not a hero, he's just someone with luck on his side."
Midoriya finally looked up and spoke. "He's not a hero, but he's not a villain either. And I'd like to think that he's just doing what he thinks is right, but in his own way."
Bakugou scoffed. "So what, you're defending him now, Deku? He's a damn time bomb, and I know how ironic that sounds. They should just stuff him in a barrel and send him on his way to prison."
Midoriya understood why Bakugou was mad. Kobe had really hurt Bakugou when they were younger, almost killed him even. And he left Midoriya with a few not so nice words too but Kobe never seemed like the type to be a villain in Midoriya's eyes.
He wasn't overly as excited about heroes like him or Bakugou, but he never shown any villainous traits until the time before he was kicked out of elementary school. He just seemed completely indifferent to both sides. He didn't care.
"But he still fought Overhaul and saved that girl, so I don't think he's just some heartless monster."
"He fought Overhaul cause the maniac was trying to kill him. Of course he'd fight." Bakugou retorted.
Yuki cleared her throat. She pulled out a phone from her pocket. "Before he left, Kobe slipped this to me along with some more details in a letter. It's information he pulled from Overhaul's systems, emails, financial logs. Some of it mentions a 'Doctor' and something titled 'Project Oversight.' It's some experiment that involved a middle school."
Nezu's ears perked up at the mention of a project. His paw was tapping against the table,Yuki continued,
her voice tightening. "There was also those two high schoolers Overhaul's men almost kidnapped. They were previously students of Aldera junior high. So I expect that to be the school under some type of experimentation."
Both Midoriya and Bakugou looked more concerned, their eyes widened.
"That's the school you two attended."
Midoriya stuttered out a response. "Yeah but I didn't graduate there since me and my mom moved to Tokyo. I left two years before graduation." And life had only gotten better for him.
All eyes were now on Bakugou. "I graduated, but it was just the run of the mill middle school. I heard it got shut down though."
Yuki cut in to corroborate. "Yes, a few months ago there was supposedly a villain that went crazy and attacked students from the school." It was probably on the news, and probably briefed over. "The logs don't explain the full scope of the project, but Kobe was digging into this, that should be enough proof he was always working against Overhaul."
A heavy silence settled over the room as the implications sank in.
Nezu broke it. "If Sōryū's goal was to uncover some truth about Overhaul that the media hasn't seen, then yes, his methods aren't self-serving. However his form of operations are dangerous and chaotic. That alone makes him a liability. The heroes side faced considerable loss. Sure no one was dead, but you..." he pointed to Yuki. "Were injured badly and are only able to move around properly because of Recovery Girl. Same with Mirio. That's two of my students. Who's to say that if he was never involved it would have got that bad."
All Might, who had been silent until now, leaned forward. His deep voice carried a quiet intensity. "But who's to say little Eri's suffering would have ended any sooner if he hadn't acted though." All Might had been a little more devastated after seeing the child with cuts and bruises all over her being carried in to UA to Recovery Girls office.
He thought on how she had been suffering, under the peace he has brought forth in this society.
"We cannot ignore what he has done. But we also cannot ignore what he has achieved. The line between hero and villain is a thin one. Sōryū is walking that line now, and it is not too late to pull him to our side."
Midoriya nodded at his idols words. He was right, he didn't need to fight Kobe, not yet. He wanted to talk to him and find out what it is he is facing, and why he is taking such dangerous methods to reach it.
He looked to his senior.
Yuki glanced down at her bandaged hands. Her face had gained a considerably calm look.
"Also, Arakawa."
Yuki's head shot up at the sound of Aizawa's voice.
"You should have handed that phone to the police."___I had to get a new phone. And clothes.
I had lost all my contacts, but that was fine, I only had three. Two I weren't even speaking to and one was just a way for me to make moves in my current position.
But it didn't matter anymore. I had already gotten a new a new phone. One of the latest models of the same brand as my last one, it barely took them two years to come out with it. Pointless.
I had walked into a store that was branded under the hero Best Jeanist. He had many stores like these all over the country and even some outside of it.
I bought a nice and plain, big black hoodie and a pair of black jeans, not too tight and not too baggy.Thankfully, my face was never caught by the media. Of course that didn't mean I was in the clear, I was sure that an image of me was given to the heroes in their circle.
I took out a few large bills to pay for my purchase. Other than the overall flashiness my quirk gave me, this was one of the major reasons why I loved it.
I could use it to create a wad of cash anytime I wanted. This was how I got places to stay, food to eat and other things like that.Obviously though, things were getting a lot more digitized and some places only accepted card, that was fine too. I already got a bank card made for me that I deposit money in whenever I can. And even if I didn't have my card, I could just materialize a copy with my quirk.
I love my quirk. I'm rambling.
Anyway. The shit with Overhaul right, a huge failure. And I was sure he would be prowling around trying to find and kill me.Or find Eri first.
But she was probably with UA now, and just in time to watch the sports festival that should be happening in a few days if I remembered right.
My mind drifted to Eri. I was glad I left her, it wouldn't have been right for me to allow her to latch on to me anyway.
She would have slowed me down in every conceivable way. The trauma she's endured isn't something I can fix. In a way she reminded me of myself, she was a guinea pig for Overhaul and I was one for the Eden Project.
She's a kid, sure, but not just any kid. Eri is... complicated. She doesn't know how to interact with others. She hasn't had a normal life to develop those instincts. And her quirk? It's dangerous.
But it isn't just her quirk itself, it's the quirk factor.
The quirk factor, or force, is the energy inside every quirk user. It's what fuels their abilities, growing with them overtime. Think of it like a muscle; it strengthens and adapts as it's used, but if it grows too fast or isn't aligned with the users control, it becomes unstable.
That's where Eri comes in. Her quirk, Rewind, is beyond extraordinary, but it is also way beyond her ability to control. Her quirk factor is probably astronomically high to the point where it's out of balance with her body and mind. It's why her power could spiral, activate unpredictably.
When a quirk factor surpasses the users capacity, the quirk starts to act on it's own. It doesn't wait for commands, it just reacts to bad stimuli. Eri's force is too far ahead of her; her own quirk is like a runaway train. Mine is quite high, but it grew with me.
It's why I let her go. She would have been too much of a liability, a danger to herself, to others and to me. UA can give her what I can't: Structure, stability, and Eraserhead.
That man's quirk is good for helping her on her journey to controlling it and her eventually getting better. She'll have people who care for her, maybe make friends and even a chance to smile without fear for the first time.
That was good...I banked to the left. Eri is safe, and I am free to carry on how I need to.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Blue light from countless monitors bathes Daigo Kiyoshi's sharp features as he sits in a high-backed chair, gazing at a holographic map of Hosu city. Tiny glowing dots move across the map, each representing a person or object he's tagged. His fingers hover above a holographic keyboard, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he speaks aloud to no one.
"Look at them. Scurrying ants tethered to chaos they call life. They cling to brittle bodies, stumbling through a maze of limitations, unable to comprehend the flaws of their mind numbing existences."
Daigo rises, his coat shifting like a shadow around him. He walks slowly toward the central monitor, which displays live footage from the data he has received from his tags. Heroes in their flashy costumes, civilians in their mundane routines, and even villains lurking in the shadows.
This world is crooked, warped, unsalvageable. A billion voices crying for justice, freedom, survival—wasting energy on a broken system that has failed them for centuries. My quirk, no, My purpose, is to build something better. A new order. No weakness, no decay. A realm where humanity sheds it's shackles of flesh and becomes infinite."
He gestures, and the holographic map expands, revealing the entire replicated city of Hosu. Every building, every streetlight, every minor detail rendered in stunning, surreal clarity. His eyes glint coldly as he takes it in.
"You'll resist of course. Heroes, Villains, fools. You'll cling to the past, to your flawed notion of freedom and peace. But in my Virtual Domain, none of that matters. Here, you will evolve or be erased."
But he was stumped, he had already got high members of the HPSC and government to work with him. But one of those sneaky rats had some connections with someone he didn't want to meet. All For One. And now he is stumped, but only slightly.
You can still turn a bad situation good. And he wasn't going to cry now and squander what was to come.
This is not cruelty. This is a mercy. Evolution demands sacrifice. I am the architect for the future."
His voice dropped to a chilling whisper as he adjusts his visor like eyewear, the circuits on his coat glowing faintly.
"Welcome to the next stage of humanity."___The boardroom radiated an unsettling sterility, every surface polished to a mirror sheen. The air smelled faintly of ozone, a synthetic tang carried from the purifier vents. The chairs surrounding the obsidian table were plush but angular, designed for power and discomfort in equal measure. Each seat was occupied by individuals whose faces wore masks of authority, their postures rigid, their expressions carefully controlled. This was the beating heart of society's elite, the orchestrators of heroes, policies and public perception.
Daigo Kiyoshi stood at the head of the table, clearly the youngest one at the table. He didn't even look like someone who should be at this table, he was a tall figure clad in attire with what these older men would only view as silly little tech gadgets.
The faintly glowing blue circuits etched into his coat pulsated rhythmically, their light reflecting in the wide, sharp eyes of his audience. His pale skin, his jet black hair gave him a spectral quality under the recessed lighting, but it was his grey eyes—intense and calculating—that silenced the room as he began to talk.
"Hosu city," Daigo began, his voice was commanding, enthralling and filled with dramaticism. "Within the next week, it will be a stage for a revolutionary experiment."
The holographic projector on the table buzzed softly, flickering to life to display a three-dimensional overview map of Hosu. Every street, every alley, every architectural nuance appeared in sharp relief, rotating slowly.
Daigo gestured toward the projection. "For months, I have been preparing. Every corner of that city has been tagged, including my usually tagging of things outside of that city—clothing shipments, support items, infrastructure. Each object has become a part of my blueprint for a fully immersive world that will challenge the very fabric of our society."
A murmur rippled through the room, subdued but insistent. One man, tall and broad shouldered with greying temples, leaning forward. His name Naoki Morioka, a senior government advisor known for his more overt conservative leanings. "And these civilians? Are you suggesting you'll drag them into the madness unprepared?"
"Civilians?" Daigo echoed, his tone so cold it drew a visible shiver from a younger aide seated near the table. "Doesn't matter, they serve the game."
Naomi Tachibana, a high-ranking HPSC official with razor sharp cheekbones and an even sharper tongue, narrowed her eyes. "This reeks of madness and senseless stupidity. I don't know how you got most of the people in this room to play into your delusions but you trying to play God will only bring about terrible repercussions when this all fails. It's barbaric."
Daigo's lips curled to a faint, chilling smile. "Barbaric? You dare speak of barbarism while seated in the very institute that sanctioned the Eden Project? Around the same people?"
The hologram shifted, now displaying documents and photographs of a boy that looked a lot like the one in front of them, only younger and a lot more frightened. The documents were marked
Eden Project: Subject #037."I am a product of your ambitions," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "I was engineered to surpass the limits of humanity. And when I did, I was discarded. You may be too young to have been a part of it, but they all called it progress."
The room fell silent, a majority of people in this room knew of the project and even signed off on it going through. This young man in front of them, was a product of their delusions first.
"The Hero Killer Stain," Daigo continued. The hologram flickered again, this time overlaying a pattern of red markers across Hosu. "A man who's actions have already and will continue to fracture the public trust in heroes. His pattern is clear, Five kills in one city, he does this to another two and then shifts his trajectory. Based on his movements, Hosu will be next. His presence alone will attract figures who have most likely already been tagged, so the process of them being dragged in to my game will go smoothly."
Naoki Morioka frowned, fingers drumming against the table. "And what's the endgame here Kiyoshi? What's the purpose of all this?"
"The purpose?" Daigo stepped closer to the hologram, his eyes gleaming with fervour that bordered on fanaticism. "To expose the flaw in our society. To show that the way forward for humanity is to find ways to immortalise oneself and continue living, continue evolving."
Many in this room have heard this speech before. Daigo Kiyoshi's virtual world power allows him to literally create virtual worlds, he just needs copies of data to replicate the type of world he wants to create. Daigo believes that humanity's way forward is becoming part of this data, his way of becoming immortal.
Just a stupid and idealistic kid, only on the cusp of reaching 20 years old. A stupid kid with a lot of power and sway.
"Other than it being a cool game you can all watch, this will show that survival is still the number 1 currency."
At the far end of the table, Takao Hoshino, a wiry man with glasses glinted ominously under the light, leaned back in his chair with an amused smirk. "Survival huh? That sounds like the kind of spectacle people will kill for. Literally." He was really proud of that one.
Kenji Yamada, his companion grinned. "Imagine opening the betting pools for this with the people we already know will be involved. My God, the money we'll make."
They were so sure because of Daigo's tags. His tags collect data of everything, Objects he can then replicate in his game world and if people are wearing his tags and they are close enough to Hosu City, they will be transported to his game world. All their data would also be collected allowing for a continual live broadcast for the nation to see.
His tags have a lifespan of three months, but that was fine, since he was with the government and even some influential people of the HPSC, he has been able to get his tags on almost anything necessary.The tags are as small as an ant, allowing for them to even be weaved into clothing and no one noticing, he's had a hand in support items being sent out to heroes, clothing being sold, school uniforms to hero schools, apart from Shiketsu. They had their own private supplier from overseas.
So most of them had a clue of who would be included, Class 1-A of UA high were getting a lot of headlines for villains attacking them, there names were of course private to the public, but everyone here had looked over the recent records. Since they were the new first years, they must have a tag in one of their uniforms or even support items for their costumes.
Even villains or just random street thugs, Daigo has hired specific people in law enforcement to sell firearms and other weapons to them, which all have his tags.
"Perhaps I should remind you." Daigo said evenly, "That I have already had this plan in motion for three months now. The tags are set. The rules are written. Hosu will be the crucible in which your heroes will be forged—or broken."
The projection shifted again, this time displaying profiles of UA's first year students. The table buzzed with intrigue as the names appeared: Todoroki Shoto, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Uraraka Ochaco, Kendo Itsuka, Yaoyorozu Momo. Many more names from their A class and B class.
Student's from other hero schools were also shown too just to add to the excitement from some of them.
"Tagged upon shipment," Daigo said, his voice devoid of apology and full of glee. "Place your bets on how these students will fare without their safety net."
More names were being thrown around of people that popped up on screen. Chisaki Kai-Overhaul, Dabi, Shuichi Iguchi- Spinner, Chizome Akaguro- Hero Killer Stain and a name that has been building up steam as of recent, Sōryū... real name Kobe Arakawa.
Yamada Kenji broke the tension with a chuckle. He was probably one of the older men in the room. "You know Kiyoshi, for all your theatrics, I have to admit this could be quite the spectacle of the century. Peace and complacency has made a great majority soft. This game? It'll greatly weed out the weaklings."
He smiled at that, happy that his ideas and creation was getting so much praise. He was happy, everyone in the room was happy. That was it, the day was over and he could now go home and finish the final touches.
Unbeknown to him and everyone in the room. There was a button flickering red underneath the table, recording every spoken work spoken in that room.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The apartment I was holed myself in barely felt like a place meant for living. The walls bore streaks of grime, and the floors creaked underfoot with every shift of weight. Light came from the radiating sun streaking through the window. I had a paper bird perched silently on the edge of the dusty windowsill.
I was sat on the floor of what I believed to be the windowsill, scrolling through current highlights of the sports festival that happened a few days ago now. The videos always seemed so bright, so coloured and it washed out the hues of my surroundings.
The crowds roar buzzed from the speakers.
The first clip made me pause. It was Bakugou, aptly named Student number 1 on screen for confidentiality reasons. I had already knew he won, I heard people talking about someone with a description like his winning. Arrogant, brutal and explosive.
He was on the podium, chained. They chained him up, like a dog. I thought that maybe his quirk could have been going off but he even had a muzzle on his mouth as he was chained.
There was no reason for it to bother me, and really and truly it didn't. But I did find it a little weird. I wondered if Eri got a front row view of this. If she were watching, would she understand what she was seeing? Could she handle the noise, the lights, the endless shouting?
I sighed and readjusted myself.
The following clips shown me someone I certainly wasn't expecting to see, especially not in the hero course fighting against someone with incredible ice powers. It was Deku... Midoriya. He had an awkward stance, but he also had a lot of power, one flick generated enough air pressure to shatter the ice coming towards him.
"I always thought he was quirkless." But then again, the last time I seen him I was nine, so who knows, maybe he's a really late bloomer.
The rush of ice was too much for him though and he didn't last.
His raw power was undeniable but also poorly controlled. "I can't decide if this is impressive or just confusing."
I seen more clips of the day, the second years and also the third years. I had seen my sister, she was doing well, but I clicked off the rest of the clips not really interested to see anything else.
None of the hero students, or students in general had their names on display. Each competitor was either given their hero name, or were labelled generically: "Hero student 1," "Hero student 2,". It was for confidentiality I got that.
But what of the people that had already known some of them previously, like me. I could go online right now and expose who both Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku are, and more than that, they still display all their capabilities to such a wide masses for entertainment.
I found it really cool as a kid, but as I got older and as we've even seen the fallout of things like that. I find it pointless.
The heroes' world loved entertainment.
Swiping away from the festival, I tapped into the news feed. A familiar name had flashed across the screen, accompanied by blood-red headlines:
"Hero killer strikes again: Ingenium down for the count?" The article detailed the latest attack from the psycho in Hosu. Ingenium was still alive, just left broken and with worries that he may not be able to use his legs anymore.
I put my phone down and stared out the grimy window. I was in Hosu, and I probably should have picked a better place to stay, in fact I might later on tonight. But the city is crawling with an abnormal amount of heroes. It made me think that they had figured me out here, but maybe it was for Stain instead.
The sharp edges of my paper bird caught the faint light. The little movements it was making was rhythmic, almost meditative. It got me thinking on something.
The Eden Project.
I remember the instructors there never showed their faces. Blank sheets of white obscured their features, who knows I could have ran into them without noticing them. They wore those sheets as if it allowed them to discard their humanity at will.
Some of the sheets bore kanji, stark and cold, for "Authority" or "Order". Their words weren't commands, they were edicts. It was as if they were just mouthpieces, tools of a greater, faceless machine. Even now, the memory of their presence felt like an oppressive shadow.
Our names were barely used either, We were numbers. I was 14, and the others were nothing more than that as well. Stripped of identity, stripped of humanity. There was a boy, he was number 11, he was always fidgeting a piece of string. And an older girl, number 78, who could summon bursts of light from her hands.
We would all whisper our names to each other and pass them around like we were playing Chinese whispers, they were like forbidden treasures but even doing that felt dangerous.
We were tools in a cruel game to replicate what couldn't be copied. To gain power on the level of societies number 1.
Training was difficult, it was designed to break our limits and if you couldn't keep up, you disappeared, no ceremony. Just gone.
My last day there, I remember the place burning and someone guiding my hand to an exit, to escape.
Hosu, was the base of operations. That's why I'm here. Even if the place is burned down, there is always a chance that the building could have something in it that no one else has found.
___Hosu was a maze of towering buildings and winding alley's. Not Tokyo's labyrinth, but still enough to easily lose yourself. Four days here and I had nothing to show for it. My search for that great fire, that burning building was a needle in a haystack no one else seemed to remember it, or actually they didn't even seem to know what I was talking about.
I leaned against a chipped brick wall in a narrow alley, scrolling through my phone. I had combed the internet trying to find records and news reports of the fire, it only happened two years ago. And there was nothing. No reports, no footage, not even a passing mention on the most obscure forms.
Either I was crazy or someone had gone to great lengths to erase it's existence.
And even when I turned my attention to the locals, sneaking into bars, and going into quiet shops tucked away in the city's usual bustle.
"Hey, you ever heard about a fire here a couple years back?" I'd ask casually. Most responded with blank stares, brushing me off like I'd asked for directions to the moon.
"Big fires don't just vanish..." I muttered under my breath. But sometimes, just sometimes, I'd catch a flicker in someone's eyes. Recognition. They wouldn't say anything, even when I offered monetary rewards. Those moments kept me searching.
As I shoved my phone into my pocket, a voice pierced the alley's stillness.
"You're looking for something that doesn't exist."
I paused and turned to the sound. At the entrance of the alley stood a man, his silhouette framed by the hazy glow of a nearby streetlamp. His coat patched and frayed, the kind worn by someone accustomed to slipping through cracks in the world and wanted to be unnoticed. A wide brimmed hat cast his face in shadow, but his posture betrayed strange confidence.
I straightened up, narrowing my eyes. "Oh really, please enlighten me then."
He stepped forward slowly, his boots clicking against the cobblestones with deliberate rhythm. "The fire two years ago. You've been asking about it."
Of course, going through the city asking questions for days, some people probably would have heard about it by now, and if it were someone included in keeping everyone else quiet about it then this shouldn't be too surprising.
"I call bullshit." I said while pointing at him.
"Well, you're not the first. Many just give up, there were no casualties as far as I know so it didn't even matter."
I crossed my arms sizing this man up. His face was still mostly obscured but I could see a gray patch in his otherwise dark bears, he was an older fellow. There was a wariness to his voice. "Do you remember it?"
He nodded. "I was there."
His words hung in the air like smoke from a cigarette bud. My guard was up. "Can you tell me where it was?"
"You really want to know?"
"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't." I replied sharply.I always find that elderly folk do love to drag on a conversation.
He hesitated as if weighing the consequences that almost everyone else was afraid of. Then he sighed, his shoulders sagged. "Old industrial district, west end of the city. The building was completely gone, or at least that's how I last seen it."
I did want to ask him when was his last time there, but he was stepping back into the shadows and eventually I couldn't even hear him anymore.
'Whatever.'
***
The west end of Hosu stretched out like a hub of neglect. Unlit alleyways and forgotten corners, it was where those who wanted to be hidden reside. Fiends, addicts and thugs.
The aged streetlamps painted cracked asphalt and crumbling structures in muted golds and shadowy greys. I threaded through the skeletal remains of this district, eyes scanning every corner for something, anything that felt more off about the place than it already was.
I stepped into a hollowed out frame of what might've been a factory. The smell hit first, damp, mildew and rusted metal. Then the memory hit second.
I was walking out of here with a larger figure guiding me to this exit on a bright and hot sunny evening.
I remember walking up steps to reach this exit. But the room in front of me was cavernous, it's open space filled with debris.
Maybe the entrance to the place I had been was under the rubble. I wanted to chuckle at how similar it was to Overhaul's operations. A piece of paper slipped and turned to a little mouse to scour the place and search for an entry point.
It didn't take long for it to come back, with nothing. "This building is probably new," I muttered lowly. New, but then abandoned, there are supposedly earthquakes that affect Hosu a lot every few years, the last one was a year ago, so maybe this place became a wreck in it's ruin.
I don't remember going through any earthquakes while being here though.
As I moved forward through the room, my footfalls were muffled, they always were, I walked without a sound partly because of my quirk and another due to training.
I spotted something on the walls—graffiti. Red letters, jagged and uneven, screamed out from the wall:
"Don't forget us!" Beneath it, smaller words scrawled like a desperate plea.
"This was where it began."
A cold weight settled into my chest. I stared at the message, my mind churning. This was lead, the distinct cracks in it made me believe so as I looked upon the fragments. I searched the room further, my eyes darting over every corner. Near the back wall, a pile of bags sat haphazardly, accompanied by a faint metallic glint.
I crouched down, pulling aside a torn canvas bag to reveal the source—a series of knives, their blades well-worn but sharp. Beside them, a half empty water bottle and a carefully folded map. Whoever had been here hadn't just been passing through; this place had become their haunt.
That's when I heard it, a faint rustle, the sound of movement. I readied myself in case of confrontation. Turning my head slowly, I caught a glimpse through a cracked doorway. A figure moved through the shadows with well-practiced stealth, tattered armour blending seamlessly with the night.
I stayed low and quickly moved myself from the bags which I judged to be his belongings as I observed. He moved with purpose, every step deliberate. The ragged dark reds meshed with his appearance and the crude long weapon in his hand confirmed it for me.
'That's the hero killer Stain.'
For a moment, I stayed rooted, trying to decide my next move. Stain was infamous, not just for his kills but for his ideology. He wants for the purge of fake heroes, heroes that do it for the fame and monetary gain. It wasn't so far-fetched of an ideal though.
Being a hero gave many benefits, and the barrier to entry seem's even lower these days. But that can't solely be blamed on the current heroes, blame All Might. The threat level has been at an all time low for years now. There isn't even a need for the amount of heroes that exist.
Not everyone can be an All Might.
I clenched my fist and opened it up to show a paper dart. As stain hopped down and passed the cracked frame of a window, I let it fly. The paper dart drifted through the air, silent as a whisper, before landing against the edge of his scarf. It stuck to the fabric and was almost indistinguishable.
He continued on oblivious.
Once he was out of sight I began moving freely again without a care in the world.
Earlier I mentioned coming up steps and seeing the blinding light of the sun. I know where those steps were, it was right underneath where I was standing, covered up and gone now. Even if I were to open it up... 'Would there be anything there?'
I wanted to say yes, but I was sure to be wrong. If the people behind this were discreet enough to cover their tracks with the people in the area all staying silent for them, then there was no reason why they would have left something that bait behind. The entire area was probably just covered in cement to help build this crappy run down factory.
Guess I should move on then. To stain.
Stain had killed 3 people in Hosu so far and had badly injured Ingenium but failed to kill him. Looking at his past records it's usually five a city. So he would only need two more tonight before he is gone.
Hosu was teeming with heroes this past week, both known and obscure, probably all out in search for the hero killer. Stupid, I thought it should be more focused group work. But who am I to say that.
A sheet of paper floated in front of me. Intricate folds were appearing on the map spreading into a section of Hosu mapped out. My connection to the dart, the tag, I placed on Stain pulsed in a mini figure of the man I saw moving steadily throughout the alleyways.
'Wow he's fast.'
He had already made quite a distance on me. I followed the blip with my eyes before folding the paper out of existence.
Sure I had agreed with his ideology to an extent, but that didn't mean I was all game for just needlessly killing. Life is fragile and is brimming with so much potential meaning; it shouldn't be snuffed out just because someone think's you're doing your job wrong.
Of course, even I have exceptions to that.
But the way I see it, Stain should still be stopped.
I stepped back outside, the chill of the night brushing against my face. The stretch of the city out before me, it's network of streets and alleys weaving into the horizon. Taking a deep breath I created a large paper bird, in the shape of a large hawk, I got atop of it and sat and let it carry me in his direction.
Four days in this city, all for me to get nothing. The Eden project had taken so much, my name, my childhood, my freedom. And now, even evidence of their existence.
"I guess seeking out stain is also a way to relieve myself."
A selfish reason, but who cares. I'm a selfish guy when I wanna be.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The cold night air felt heavier than it should have. A chilling silence, broken only by the sound of laboured breathing, filled the alleyway along with the scraping of sharp metal on the gravel.
Midoriya couldn't move. The metallic tang of blood lingered in his mouth from the solid and nasty blow he received from the hero killer. His eyes darted towards his friend Iida Tenya and the pro hero Native. The latter was unconscious while the former was in the same position as Midoriya himself. Vulnerable.
Panic clutched his chest.
Move! You have to move! But his limbs were paralyzed by the serial killer's quirk.
Why did I let this happen? Midoriya's thoughts raced, guilt weaving itself into every corner of his mind. He'd known Iida was hiding something—something dark and self-destructive But he'd been too late. Too blind to his friends pain, blind to the sweltering rage and depression brewing beneath Iida's usual demeanour. And now, because of his failure to act, his friends life hung by a thread.
I should've brought Gran Torino. He cursed himself. There were many heroes in the city that he had met thanks to the elder that he was interning with, Kesagiri man, Airjet, Backdraft. And there were many more in the city capable of beating Stain, Odd eye, Crust, Sir Nighteye and of course Endeavour himself.
I'm a failure, a hopeless and miserable... Deku! I hate it. He's going to kill them and I can do nothing...
But then, faintly, like a whisper against the wind, he saw it—paper. Tiny fragments, fluttering like snowflakes, illuminated by the dim streetlights. At first Midoriya thought his consciousness was playing tricks on him. But then Stain hesitated. His sword arm froze mid swing as the paper coalesced into delicate threads in the air.
Midoriya's breath caught.
Paper? The realization hit like a shockwave. His mind reeled. It had been years since he had seen that in person, but there was no mistaking it.
Kobe... Sōryū is here.
Stain's head snapped around, his gaze narrowing as he slashed the air with perpetual speed, his blade severing a floating paper construct. The fragments burst apart harmlessly, but more followed, drifting with deliberate purpose. Bird-like figures formed from paper, wings beating silently as they dove toward the Hero Killer.
Stain's reaction was instantaneous, his sword slicing through the air in arcs of precision, cutting down the constructs with ease. But in the brief chaos, the bodies of Iida, Native and even Midoriya had vanished from where they were on the ground and were now perched safely on a rooftop. Transported by unseen hands. Stain turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as he faced a figure standing calmly at the end of the alley.
***I stood at the edge of the alley after landing on the ground and making sure those three were alright. They were paralyzed, I don't know how, but it was obviously due to the quirk of the man in front of me.
His sword had already been slick with blood.
A deep gash was on Native, I used my paper to patch it up the best I could as a bird carried him up the roof. Now I could have them be transferred further but Stain may try something like throw a sword at them from my blind spot, so leaving them up there was for the better now.
This wouldn't be my first time facing killers like him. But Stain still felt oddly dangerous in a way Overhaul didn't, his intensity and the way he stared you down, his killing intent, it was like being dumped in a pool of ice cold water that would wake you up instantly and fire up all your senses.
"You don't belong here," he said, "Paper isn't fit to stain red."
I didn't have time for a response, I wasn't supposed to, it was a bait of course...
The no-nose having freak sped in my direction in a blur of motion, and he was on me, his sword slashing through my toward my throat. I twisted, leaning just enough for the blade to whistle past my neck. Paper flowed from my sleeves in a fluid ripple, forming a thin barrier that shimmered into a thin paper wall.
Stain's blade bit into it, but I stepped forward and opened up the wall and drove my palm into his chest.
He staggered slightly, his feet finding purchase almost instantly. His movements were animalistic, in a similar way Overhaul's were when he had absorbed his allies, but Stain's were a lot more calculated. He had a sharper instinct.
"You don't belong here," He snarled, his voice like gravel. His sword spun in his hand before he lunged again.
This time I let him get a little closer. Paper ribbons danced around me, threading the through the air in erratic patterns. One strand coiled around his arm, the fibers tightening like a serpent. He jerked back, the paper snapping, but it gave me an opening.
I struck low, a sweeping kick to disrupt his balance. He jumped narrowly avoiding it, but I was already following up. Paper folded into a makeshift blade in my hand, it's edge glinting unnaturally sharp. I brought it down in a controlled arc, meeting his steel in a burst of sparks.
For a moment, our weapon's locked, the force reverberating through my arms. His was strong but not overwhelming, but I didn't need to match it. I shifted my weight, letting his momentum carry him past me as I stepped to the side, a second blade formed in my hand and I slashed at his open flank.
He twisted again, his movements unnervingly smooth, and my blade caught only the edge of his clothing, leaving a shallow tear. His eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, annoyance flickered in them.
"You're Sóryú. I've seen you on the news. I didn't think you were this skilled." He admitted, "But skill without purpose is empty. You'll fall like the rest."
"Right," I shot back sarcastically. "...cause you and All Might are the only one's allowed to dance at the top with a purpose right?"
The tension snapped as he lunged again, faster and with more power behind him. His sword became a blur, each swing with deadly precision. My paper moved in tandem, birds diving and daring to intercept his strikes. He cut through them effortlessly, but each one demanded more focus than he wanted to give.
I shifted back, paper spiralling around my feet to burst me into the air, my hands moved in rhythm, folding and shaping a massive construct. A hawk, with a wingspan that spanned the alley. It dived toward him, talons sharp. Stain met it with a growl, his sword sliced through the construct in a shower of shards. The explosion of paper obscured his vision for a heartbeat, just enough for me to reposition.
"Stop with this. Stop running." Stain's voice cut through the paper storm.
"I prefer to call it a strategic relocation." I replied, flicking my wrist. Paper needles shot towards him, tiny and precise, forcing him to deflect, dodge or even just suffer from the attacks and block them from hitting his face or his vitals.
Stain took out another long sword, and swung towards me with his initial one. When I leapt back his secondary sword was thrown at me in a wide arc, I materialized a paper blade to block it.
But like a cool whisper in winter, a wall of ice surged between us, stains blade bouncing harmlessly off it's surface. My eyes widened as the second place winner of the sports festival appeared. He had dual coloured hair and an expression colder than the ice.
And then a breeze of air touched me as Midoriya jumped down to land beside me. "Thank's Shoto-kun." He looked at me, I kept my face ahead avoiding his eyes.
But I could feel them burning through my cheek, God he can be so damn awkward.
"Not now, dummy." I muttered sharply.
The ice user turned to Midoriya. "Midoriya, are we supposed to be fighting with him?" he gestured towards me, ready to turn me to an ice sculptor.
Midoriya's response was immediate. "It's fine. Kobe... Sōryū saved me and Iida as well as Native. He's not our enemy." His words were resolute, he lacked the usual stammer that I had associated with him. But his jaw tightened slightly as though he were bracing for a disagreement.
Todoroki hesitated, his brows furrowing, but he nodded. "Fine. For now."
The wall of ice shattered suddenly, shards scattering in every direction. Stain burst through, his blade flashing in the moonlight. He moved faster than before, his rage sharpening every motion. His eyes darted toward Midoriya and Todoroki before locking onto me.
"Allies?" His voice dripped with disdain as he lunged.
I ducked low, my paper forming into a coiling serpent that lashed out toward him. Stain twisted, slicing through the construct with a precise strike but it forced him to shift his footing.
Todoroki seized the moment, sending a jagged trail of ice towards Stain's legs. Stain jumped, but Midoriya was already in motion, rocketing upward with a forceful kick aimed at Stain's midsection. The blow connected, sending the hero killer sprawling against the wall.
Midoriya landed beside me, his breathing heavy but controlled. "Kobe, What's your play here?"
"My play?" I smirked faintly, spinning a thin, sharp blade in my hands. "My play is not dying, simple, but effective."
Stain recovered with alarming speed, his grin widening as he charged in again. "Good! Fight like your lives depend on it." His blade slashed through the air aiming for Midoriya's chest.
I intercepted, my blade of paper catching his steel with a sharp clang. Sparks flew as we clashed, his raw strength pushing against my agility. Todoroki moved to flank him, his ice trailing like veins across the ground.
"You need to learn subtlety, Frosty," I quipped, flipping backwards as Todoroki's ice surged beneath me, creating a platform that lifted me and the other fighters to the rooftops.
Stain was here with us, I conjured paper birds that dove at him, their razor wings slicing through the air. Stain swatted them away, but the distraction allowed Todoroki to launch another wave of ice, this time pinning stains arm briefly against a vent,
Midoriya joined, his movements erratic but precise. He used the momentum from Todoroki's ice to leap high, delivering a punch that cracked the concrete rooftop where Stain had been standing.
I stayed above the chaos, watching and weaving more constructs into the fight. A net of paper descended from above, entangling Stain's legs just as Todoroki's ice surged forward again, encasing his lower half.
"Got him!" he shouted.
But stain roared, his sword slicing through the paper and cracking the ice in one fluid motion. He lunged for Todoroki, blade raised.
I dropped down between them creating a wall of paper. His blade bit into it, but he didn't have the power to make it pierce through.
"Careful Frosty." I said pushing the Hero Killer back.
Stain's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a manic light. "Doesn't matter how strong you all are! As I said, Strength without purpose is meaningless!"
He broke away, spinning toward Midoriya who was already charging in. Midoriya slid under the strike. But Stain quickly came back with another powerful strike, I reacted fast, forming massive paper hands that scooped him into the air to dodge the attack.
"Thanks!" He still called out, twisting in midair to prepare a counterattack. His fist glowed faintly, the pressure around it building up as he aimed for Stain's exposed flank.
The Hero killer turned slowly to raise his sword to block, Midoriya's strike landed, sending a shockwave rippling through the rooftop. Stain staggered, his footing faltering. Todoroki followed up instantly, sending a surge of ice across the ground that coiled around Stain's legs and chest, locking him in place.
"This is it!" Midoriya shouted, charging forward with his fist cocked back for one final blow.
But then the air shifted. A strange alien sensation coursed through me, like static crawling under my skin.
A voice, low, playful and mechanical spoke loudly in my head, and judging by their startled expressions, it did in theirs too.
"[Game On]"
The world around us twisted unnaturally, the dark night of the city we were just in was bleeding away into a monotonous gray. The rooftop vanished, replaced by a featureless void stretching endlessly in every direction. Shadows flickered at the edges of my vision and my eyes adjusted, I realized we weren't alone. Countless figures stood around us, some familiar and most strangers. Civilians. Their expressions ranged from confusion to terror.
"What... what is this?" Todoroki's voice broke out, though it sounded distant as though muffled by the strange atmosphere.
I looked down instinctively and cursed under my breath. My shoes were gone and so were my socks, my feet were bare against the cold, unyielding surface. Nearby, I saw Todoroki, his boots and support gear gone.
And then there was Midoriya.
Clad in only his underwear.
"Midoriya," I started, but my voice was cut off by his panic at his sudden nudeness.
Then the rising murmur of panic came from the crowd around us.
I don't know what happened, but we are not in Hosu anymore.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The laboratory was an amalgamation of eerie silence and a steady hum of life support machinery. Inside the room were a ton of incubators with creepy creatures unconscious inside of them. Walls behind them were lined with monitors displaying the abrupt scene in Hosu. In this grim tableau, All For One sat in a throne-like chair, his presence suffocating even to the void itself. His mask gleamed faintly under the cold light, concealing the malformed face that had once been another great weapon of his. The room seemed to shrink around him as though it were acknowledging him as master.
Dr. Kyudai Garaki, a hunched figure with a completely bald head and a large bushy mustache, and unnervingly bulging glasses, stood by the largest monitor. His stubby fingers moved with surprising dexterity across a keyboard, his cackling punctuating the quiet sinister glare.
"This... game, my Lord. It's beyond anything we could have imagined. Such innovation! Such scope! Kiyoshi Daigo may very well be the closest thing this world has to an artist of the apocalypse."
All For One leaned back, his voice cutting through the air like silk over steel. "An artist, indeed. One whose campus is reality and whose brush has dipped in despair." He chuckled in a low resonant sound that sent ripples of unease even to the motionless corpses in the room. "But his brilliance is not without flaws. Like all visionaries, Daigo requires careful curation."
Garaki nodded vigorously. "And the investment my lord, sending Shigaraki, Toga, twice and even Overhaul... Isn't that too risky, sending them to this... game?"
"Risk?" All For One interrupted, his tone was filled with amusement. "Risk is what keeps people from stagnation. I'm sending him there to gain experience, or XP as Tomura call's it. He will lead, kill and learn new things about himself that I cannot teach. It's a fantastic situation."
As long as Tomura Shigaraki lives, which All For One is sure he will.
The screen flickered, transitioning to a live broadcast. Daigo Kiyoshi, standing in a surreal digital studio, his high-collared black coat illuminated by faint, circuit-like lines of blue. He appeared before the nation. His asymmetrical bangs obscured one eye, lending him a shadowed, enigmatic allure.
"Ah there he is," All For One murmured. "The maestro himself."
Garaki leans closer, his grin widening. "Let's see what symphony he conducts."
Daigo's voice was smooth and charismatic, each word deliberate. "People of Japan, and perhaps the world. Today, we embark on a new chapter of existence. A trial of humanity's worth, a test of it's mettle. I have made a replica of Hosu City with my quirk, to act as the stage for this game that decides if we are ready to transcend the limits of our frail bodies and fragile ideologies."
The broadcast cut shortly to a scene of the grey, monotone room of boundless space where an amalgamation of different people stood and were also listening to what he was saying. Civilians, Heroes, known villains, students of all kind and more.
Daigo continued in his whimsical tone. "This game, will be a survival game. The players will search for three artifacts scattered across this city, symbols of out past, present and future. Retrieve them, unite them and place them in their rightful places. Only then will they be able to come back to the real world where we will then commence with everything we've gathered."
"All the while," Daigo continued, speaking directly to the participants this time. "You will adhere to rules. You will collect points, you will fight and you will adapt, if not, then you die. But even in death, fear nothing. For in my domain you will live forever."
"Every choice you make echoes in eternity." Daigo's voice boomed once more.
All for One chuckled, his mirth genuine and unsettling. "The boy has a flair for theatrics. I wonder if he was a drama kid."
Garaki adjusted his glasses, his laughter filling the room. "This spectacle will be unparalleled."
The monitor dimmed, leaving the laboratory cloaked in shadows once more, even as the two figures watched the unfolding drama with bated breath.
___The UA staff room was a somber theatre of urgency and despair. Principal Nezu, perched at the head of the table, head spinning at the revelation of everything they had just heard, still staring at the screen seeing some of his own students, signifying that they are all trapped in this game.
He radiated composure, but the feint tap-tap of his paw against the polished wood betrayed the weight of the situation. Around him, the teachers were a mixture of outrage, disbelief and grim determination. The muted glow of the monitor displayed the figure known as Daigo Kiyoshi, dubbed Proxy.
"How did this happen?" Midnight's voice cracked the tense silence. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her pacing restless and agitated. "Half an entire city of people uprooted, countless lives thrown into a death game, and no one saw it coming?"
The city of Hosu was still there, it was just a great majority of it's people were now missing.
"It's not just about missing it," Aizawa said, his tone cutting through her distress with his bluntness. "It's about the scale. Daigo Kiyoshi didn't just activate some massive quirk. He must have orchestrated this for months if not years. There's planning here, resources we don't see."
"And the students," Midnight pressed, her voice breaking.
"Six confirmed, from Class 1-A." Present Mic said, his normally boisterous voice subdued as he counted off on a list from agencies he's called. "And six from Class 1-B. Plus that kid Shinso from General Studies."
And that's not counting the business students who came in for extra classes, or support students that were also still in school during the intern break and didn't find anywhere to work.
A collective grimace swept through the room. Aizawa rubbed his eyes, his exhaustion palpable. "Of course Shinso's caught." Aizawa had only took an interest and started training the kid recently.
"Shiketsu was spared. Luck maybe." Present Mic said.
"It's not about luck," Nezu interjected sharply. "Their protocols on almost everything are different than ours. Insular. For all their faults Shiketsu's insularity may have protected their students."
All Might was silently fuming and clenching his larger than life fists. He stood tall. "None of this absolves us," he said, his voice low but fierce. "Todoroki, Midoriya, all those students, they're children. Children thrust into a nightmare because we weren't vigilant enough."
"And what do we do now?" Aizawa asked tearing through All Might's frustration with his own. "Storm the streets looking for this clown, he may be in the game himself for all we know. We don't even know how his quirk works. We can't just punch our way through there."
"We don't even know what's inside," Midnight added, her frustration now simmering into desperation. "This game could be anything. Even if we find a way in, how do we protect everyone? How do we fight within Kiyoshi's rules?"
Nezu had been quietly observing, he tapped his paw on the table to draw in their attention. "This is not a problem that can be solved with brute force or boundless idealism..." The room went still at the tone of his voice. "First we understand that people, whether our students or not, will die. Then we understand the parameters of what's at stake here. Knowledge is power. And then we scour the streets for this villain and reclaim our society back."
The room fell silent. All Might looked like he wanted to bury himself in a hole, it was unnerving seeing such a strong figure and the embodiment of hope itself act in such a way.
Midnight pulled out a tablet swiping at the growing reports. "Civilians, Pro Heroes, Hero Students and Villains. It isn't indiscriminate who has been taken, but majority seem to fall within the Hosu radius."
She paused for a moment before resuming. "The league are also involved. Tomura Shigaraki, Twice and Himiko Toga are in,"
"That's just a nightmare waiting to explode." Present Mic said letting out a sigh.
"But there are also heroes there," Aizawa said. Trust in heroes was a must in this situation. For the people that could do nothing on the outside, they had to have full hope that they achieve the best outcome from this, somehow.
Midnight was still scrolling and she seemed even angrier this time over something new she had found. "Monsters."
A few heads turned to her to get an answer on what she was referring to.
She spun her tablet around for them to see.
"Betting pools. People are treating it like entertainment and have already placed our students as well as villains as people to bet on for their survival."
Nezu spoke out before Present Mic got the chance to, his beady eyes were already dark. "That is the rot beneath our society isn't it? When suffering becomes a spectacle. We will deal with them as we progress, but for now, we should work with other heroes on finding out more information on this man Daigo Kiyoshi as well as setting up a perimeter around Hosu in case any entrances or exits appear."
All Might turned back to the monitors to see all the frightened people who he couldn't reach. His teeth clenched as he listened to the villains speech about digital immortality. Kiyoshi's vision, it is something he wants to smash to nothingness.
He thought of Midoriya.The safety of him and the people is his hope.
___The news of Game Hosu rippled across society, a dark thread weaving through the lives of millions.
In a bedroom that was filled with the natural light of the sun, a teenage boy perched on the edge of his bed, hunched over his glowing computer screen. His walls were plastered with posters of pros striking iconic poses as well as a grunge rock band.
His desk was cluttered with energy drink cans and silly gadgets instead of schoolwork like the average teenage boy.
But Tokio Daruma was a high school dropout wanting to make it big.
The glow of the screen reflected in his wide eyes as he scrolled through a betting website while chewing gum. Names scrolled by, blurry faces of named participants in the game.
Bro, Todoroki's gotta make this out alive. He's the son of the number 2. And he's got Ice and Fire, no one's touching that." His voice broke the silence as he spoke into his headset, addressing his friend in a discord call.
"Nah bro, you're sleeping on that paper guy, you ain't see him against Overhaul? He's cracked."
***In a quiet suburb of a distant town, a middle-aged woman stood in her modest kitchen, lading soup bowls. Her young daughter sat at the table, legs swinging as she hummed a cheerful tune while playing on her tablet. The woman's attention however, was locked on the small TV mounted in the corner. The screen played Daigo Kiyoshi's announcement, his chilling charisma impossible to ignore.
Her hand trembled as she adjusted the volume. "What can the heroes even do?" She muttered under her breath.
The girl looked up, her big eyes curious. "What's wrong mommy?"
The woman forced on a smile, "Nothing sweetheart. Eat your soup, okay?" But her thoughts raced.
My nephew is a first year attending UA. Please don't let him be a part of this.
***
Downtown, in a bustling internet cafe, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and muted conversation. A group of huddled men around two different monitors, their faces illuminated by the light on the screen.
"Five-to-one odds on Shoto Todoroki getting the first kill as a hero student." One said jabbing a finger at the profile on the screen.
"You're an idiot," another retorted, leaning back with a smug grin. "Bet on their chances on getting out first, that's easy money. That Kirishima Kid is built like a tank, and so is the silver one that looks like a villain."
Behind them, the cafe owner leaned on the counter, watching them with a mixture of disdain and resignations. "You guys are disgusting. This isn't a sport, those are lives you're betting on."
One of the men shrugged. "Yeah but we're betting on the heroes and villains and stuff, sure this is a big surprise and all. But the life of a hero is full of 'em, and they signed up for that."
***A lavish penthouse offered a stark contrast to the cafe's grime. Here, a wealthy businessman swirled a glass of wine as he lounged in an oversized leather chair. The city's glittering skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but his attention was on the sleek tablet in his hand.
He scrolled through a private app smirking at the names on the roster. "Gang Orca, Kamui Woods, Sajin Higawara." To the man scrolling, these names were safe bets Professional heroes with powerful quirks and lots of experience. Kamui Woods may be one of the newer ones, but he is climbing up the ranks at record breaking speeds.
The first bet was more of a risky one, but he was all about taking risks. Which is why he chose his next one's the way he did. "Geten Himura, Tomura Shigaraki, Kobe Arakawa (Sōryū)."
'This is all about the fun of the game,' He thought as he switched screens to book a plane ticket out of the country.
***Social media exploded with hashtags:
#GameHosu, #DeathGame, #HeroesvsVillains. And more, relating to Daigo Kiyoshi now dubbed Proxy by the internet. The reactions ranged from outrage, to morbid fascination.
The internets dark corners buzzed with quieter whispers. On an encrypted forum, anonymous users placed private bets.
Some spoke about who they believe would win if they crossed paths.
All the while the people they were talking about were all still within what was proposed as the starting room to the games.
___The dark expanse above Hosu shimmered with surreal stillness. Below, the city gleamed like an artificial jewel, it's streets life-like but too pristine, circled by an impossible sea. Confusion rippled through the gathered participants.
"This can't be real," someone muttered, we all heard the announcement that the man named Daigo Kiyoshi gave to the world. It was daunting and any other day would sound like the ramblings of another crazy person.
Midoriya's eyes were wide and he was shaking as he was holding himself together like he would fall apart if not. His emerald eyes darted around. His lips parted and then he looked down to the endless sea.
"Hosu doesn't have water around it like this." Todoroki nodded grimly beside him, Daigo Kiyoshi had explained that this was some kind of replica that he created.
'Unbelievable. Since when could quirks be so strong?' I thought to myself.
Before anyone else could speak, an omnipresent voice cut through the air, smooth and mocking.
"Welcome to my Virtual Domain," Daigo Kiyoshi's voice announced, his tone simultaneously warm and condescending.
"You now stand in the world of my creation. A space where reality bends to my will and where your very lives hand in the balance."
The sky pulsed and lines of text began to form above them, glowing faintly in the dark air.
Rules of the Game
1. Gain points. - If points remain stagnant four four days, the player dies.
(Gain points by eliminating other players. Heroes/Villains: 10 points, Hero Students: 5 points, Civilians: 1 point.)
Heroes, Named Villains and Hero Students are already a part of the game and have to follow through. Civilians are exempt unless their points change.
Game Termination
1. Game ends when three specific objects are found and placed in their locations:
-Founders Torch.
-All Might's Gauntlet.-USB.
Rule Creation
1. New rules cost 50 points to propose and require Game Masters approval.
The participants froze frozen, absorbing the grim details. Daigo's voice, rich with amusement, continued.
"And to begin, I offer you a question—an opportunity to earn ten points for everyone here. How do you believe you were brought into this world? You have five minutes to answer. But be warned, after every minute that passes you lose two points."
We were told that we could give the answers to out
Bug. The games interface, an autonomous construct meant to answer players queries and can even provide updates. Daigo described them as the impartial observers.
They were as big as hand and had the appearance of an insect like a worm mixed with a beetles thickness. And it could float. Mine was red but I seen Midoriya and Todoroki's were green, some people had blue and some had a pale orange colour bug.
"Dragged into this world...?" someone muttered, still in disbelief.
I looked around to see that there were heroes and even some known villains in almost every 1 in 6 people you glanced at. Some tried attacking but their attacks just phased through, 'probably some type of safe zone then.'
Midoriya's face twisted and he was muttering aloud... "It wasn't a teleportation quirk. There wasn't any sign of portals or even a feeling of being dragged through one..."
Forty seconds had went by just like that and no one gave an answer. I let everyone's wrong answers flow through me and even ignored some of Midoriya's mumbling. His costume was still missing, other people in the room were in similar positions. All missing a piece of clothing or hero costumes.
The pieces clicked after a minute, "It's the objects."
"What?" Midoriya turned and asked sharply.
"Think about it for a second." I said noticing a few more faces turn in my direction. "You're missing your costume and Frosty is missing some of his support gear. The objects we're wearing are probably considered part of the game, so they were able to drag us in here like that. Maybe through recalling them to their designated spots."
As if in response to my deduction, the sky pulsed again and Daigo's voice returned, brimming with delight. "Astute observation. Eight points have been awarded to all participants." I was late by only a few seconds.
"Now, let the games begin!"
The platform beneath us shattered and everyone seemingly blinked out of existence in a flash.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Oh crap!" An officer said aloud.
He had just watched the livestream too like many others. And he instantly rushed to the camera room of the most guarded prison of Japan, Tartarus.
Tatsuya Shinpachi had watched the kid he knows as Soryu figure out how the players were all transported to the games. If it were as simple as recalling objects to a game, objects like clothing, clothing that could come from even basic suppliers.
They were screwed.
"Oh shit!" Shinpachi cursed aloud and pressed a bright red button on his side to alert the appropriate parties.
All prisoners in Tartarus barring new people waiting to be extradited have disappeared.
It was now a nationwide alert.___
I was in a clothing shop. One that looked eerily similar to the same chain owned by Best Jeanist that I had bought my last pair of clothes from. The glossy floors, perfectly folded shirts, even the scent of lavender.
I also had my phone, but it had no service, I could make no calls nor go on the internet. The screen glowed taunting me with it's uselessness.
And I wasn't alone. I didn't expect to be either. If the game was recalling objects than I expected people to spawn in the same places I did, although I did expect more.
A sick and gut smearing sound was heard. Sharp and wet, like someone battering meat before cooking it. My head snapped toward the sound to see a familiar well named figure.
Ryuga Kai. Otherwise known as the villain Abyss. Anyone who payed even a bit of attention to the news a year ago would have seen him on it, he was a hulking figure who was also dubbed the water demon. He was sick, brutal and even a supposed cannibal.
He was beat by Endeavour and eventually taken to Tartarus, he was still in his prison suit, which told me something even more disturbing that I didn't want to think about.
He stood over a crumpled body, his boot grinding down onto the chest off... a boy. A child of a similar age to Eri most likely. I couldn't even tell the boys natural hair colour, everything was covered in blood and even parts if his torn up intestines. Blood pooled beneath him.
My stomach twisted.
Ryuga tilted his shark-like head, his pale blue hair falling into his eyes as he stared at the body beneath him. His lips curled into a strange, almost serene like smile.
"To be free," he murmured, his voice smooth and deliberate. "To emerge from the depths of confinement into a whole new world of boundless chaos... What a gift."
The words slithered into my ears, unnervingly calm, as if the life he had just snuffed out was nothing more than an afterthought.
A sharp gasp broke my focus. I turned, spotting someone near the back of the store—a girl. She was younger, maybe my age, with orange hair tied into a high ponytail. Her hands trembled as she pressed herself against the racks of clothes, her face pale as a sheet.
Ryuga's eyes followed mine, landing on her. The smile on his face widened.
"Ah..." he said, his voice taking on a mockingly gentle tone. "Such fear... It clings to you like a second skin. Beautiful, really. You must be wondering why you of all people had to be thrust into this madness, little one. But fear not—this is merely life revealing it's truest form."
The girl didn't move, she didn't speak. She just stood there, shaking and struggling to breathe. The weight of this man's presence alone was enough to keep her pinned in place.
"Abyss." I said, my voice cutting through the steady knot that seemed to be tightening the space around us.
His head turned towards me, his expression brightening, the rows of his sharp, shark-like teeth catching the light.
"Ah recognition," he said, stepping over the body with casual ease, blood dripping from his boot. "It's almost flattering. But you don't have the same fire in you, the rage that was enough to put me away. No righteous fury. Just another piece of flotsam."
He chuckled as I stood there without replying, his laughs were like the stutter of waves before a storm. "Perhaps you just don't fully grasp the gravity of the situation you are in."
This guy was like a nightmare personified, not just another villain. Stories about him couldn't even be used as bedtime warnings; maybe wake-up calls.
The girl whimpered, I could hear her. She seemed fit enough to run out of here if I give her the chance, she was unarmed and completely out of her depth. Her orange hair shook as she trembled in place, her eyes were still wide as she stared at the shark man that had just crushed someone like a soda can.
Abyss took a step closer. I didn't give him the chance to do anymore. With a flick of my wrist, a paper ribbon uncoiled from my sleeve, weaving around the girl and yanking her backward like a grappling hook. She let out a surprised yelp as I guided her behind a nearby display counter.
"No need for that. Everyone's a part of the game." His voice dripped with amusement. His outline then became a blur as though he were dissolving. In an instant, the air filled with the sound of rushing water.
A wave burst forth from where I stood, dark and churning, like an endless flood surging towards me.
"Run!" I shouted to the girl. She didn't hesitate as she scurried towards a back exit. I dove to the side, sliding across the tiled floor as the torrent crashed into the wall behind me, ripping it apart in a spray of water and debris.
Abyss reformed in front of me, stepping out of the swirling water like a monster emerging from the deep sea. "Water is eternal," he said, "It flows, adapts, consumes. And you—" he pointed a clawed finger at me—"will drown in it."
I flicked my wrists again, sending out a volley of razor-thin paper slivers. They shot forward with precision, but slid through a swirling barrier of water that coated his skin. It even looked like they just merged with his body like stones into the ocean.
He smirked, "Paper cuts? Cute."
I didn't respond, instead I leapt back and pulled the shredded remains of my attack toward me. The fragments reformed as a shield around my arm just in time to block a clawed swipe at my chest.
The impact sent me skidding back, my shoes squealing against the tile. His strength was unreal, the force of the blow rattling through my entire body.
"You're going to have to try harder than that." he said, his grin never faltering.
I formed a blade and reinforced the paper with more paper instead of replying. Fighting against water is obviously not very beneficial with a quirk like mine.
I rushed him, feinting left before slashing upward. He dodged the blade with fluid ease, his body twisting unnaturally as he countered with a backhanded swing. I ducked under it, driving the dagger toward his midsection.
The blade connected—or so I thought. His body rippled around it, the water swallowing the weapon without a trace.
He grinned down at me, his claws already swinging toward my exposed side. I had no time to block so I dropped my hand and threw up a reinforced paper wall between us.
The claws tore through the barrier like a hot knife through butter. I was able to roll out of the way.
"You're quick," he admitted, his tone was almost approving. "But it's pointless. Paper can't beat water."
I was at his blindside and as he was turning he got a face full of foam. I grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed it's content all over him before throwing the object at him. He sliced through it creating an even thicker layer that I could hear him choking on.
Abyss snarled, his silhouette barely visible through the haze. "Cheap tricks won't save you."
I didn't answer, I used the cover to reposition myself, weaving paper strands into a series of tripwires around the store.
When the smoke cleared, Abyss charged forward, his form surging across the ground like a tidal wave. But as soon as his body got caught on the tripwires, the reinforced strands sliced through his water form and momentarily disrupted his shape.
He growled, "Clever, but not clever enough."
He lunged again, faster this time, his claws slashing toward me in a relentless barrage. I ducked and weaved, using every ounce of speed and agility I could muster at the moment to avoid the blows.
Finally, he caught me off guard, a tendril of water snaking around my ankle and yanking me off my feet. I hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every bone in my body.
Abyss loomed over me, his grin a predators snarl. "Do you feel it?" he asked, his voice low. "The weight of inevitability? You fight, you struggle, but in the end, all things return to the depths."
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to move despite the pain. "You talk too much," I said, my voice tight but steady.
With a surge of effort, I activated my quirk, sending a burst of paper shards outward in every direction. The effort forced him to step back, giving me enough time to scramble to my feet.
There was no way I could keep up with this. Out of the corner of my eye I seen something, it was the dagger I had tried stabbing him with earlier.
How was it still there?
From my perspective it just got absorbed by him. But then I looked around again, all the water he was spitting forward, all the water around the place. My guess is that he is able to place what he absorbs into the body of water he creates or just has stored in him. Like a displacement of damage.
Cool, but that information so late in the game isn't helping me.
I just fought stain earlier and now I was fighting someone that was probably even stronger, and he was my natural weakness.
"This fight is pointless!" I said after releasing a sigh.
I'm no Endeavour, I can't burn up all the fluids and run this fucker dry. Abyss grinned and his eyes gleamed in triumph. "Oh come on, don't bore me. Put in a best effort."
I shrugged and slowly backed away. The shreds of paper I had thrown out were forming into a singular object behind him.
A bomb.
"Yeah maybe next time, see you around Ryuga Kai." Wings formed on my back as I backed out of the main entrance,
I flew high into the sky only to then hear the building collapse in a massive boom.
My paper can create anything and the effects will happen. A paper sword will cut like a sword, wings will give me the ability to fly. A bomb... well even though it lacks the element and actual fire power, the force, the blast is still in effect.
So now even though Abyss is most probably still alive, I can be happy with the fact that I got a hit on him.
But that was the problem with people like him, they were already living a crappy life serving a life sentence. There is nothing for them to go back to. So this place, this fake world that lacks structure and balance is like a big giant playground to people like Ryuga Kai.
He and many others have no reason to want to leave, they may just thrive on the joy of messing with and taking lives.
Remembering his appearance made something twist in my gut, a feeling of mad discomfort.
He was in a prison uniform, and I know for sure he was in Tartarus. So the likelihood that all prisons were using similar suppliers shipped out by Daigo Kiyoshi... 'Oh fuck.'
This game would be like real life pandemonium.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"You have gained 10 points."
Shigaraki blinked slowly, his hand unconsciously twitching as the low, mechanical hum of the games interface filled his ears. The crimson-red bug icon blinked into existence in front of him.
His lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn't one of joy. The cold, metallic taste of annoyance was the only thing that lingered on his tongue. Shigaraki's eyes lazily shifted downward, directly to the body he was sitting on. His fingers twitched again.
It was a man, or at least what had once been a man. The mans throat looked as if it were torn out—crushed to the point where no life would ever return. His eyes, wide and bulging, stared at nothing, forever frozen in the shock of whatever final moment had brought him here. The flesh was shredded, and Shigaraki could smell the faint, sickly smell of blood mixed with the decay of the man's disembowelment. A brutal finality hung in the air, as the broken corpse served as a sickening throne beneath him.
A game, a damn game.
Toga and Twice were just a few paces away, engaged in their usual antics. Twice, always eager, was adjusting the layers of his costume, muttering to himself in a manic way.
"Boss! You think we're gonna get more points just like this? I like the sound of that!" Twice laughed, looking at his own Bug with weird delirium.
"Shut it Twice." Shigaraki snapped, his voice contained venom. "You have no idea what's going on here do you?"
Shigaraki barely had any clue what was going on either and that brought his hand up to his neck and started lightly scratching at it. His master had only told him that he was sending him on a special mission without him.
Without him. That made no sense, Shigaraki has been by master's side from the beginning, for as long as he could remember.
He didn't understand this game or like the creator of it.
But he did like the fact that he has more of a reason to kill now. He just wishes he had the chance to do so to All Might.
Toga, with an odd gleam in her eyes, looked at the bloody corpse beneath Shigaraki and hummed, twirling a knife between her fingers. "Is it just me, or is this place just so much fun? And look at these cool bugs, they're all red."
Shigaraki's eyes narrowed, flicking to the side as he stood up from the corpse. His boots squelched with a sickening sound as they pressed down on the remains, the flesh squashing beneath his weight. It made him feel strangely powerful. Stomping on what was now just another part of the scenery.
His hand twitched again, fingers itching to destroy, to tear everything around him apart. The game... What was the point of it all? He frowned.
He gritted his teeth, the ache of frustration tightening in his chest. 'This is stupid,' he thought. 'I wish I had Kurogiri here...' His annoyance bubbled up. His damn portal was gone, he had no way out and he's stuck in a place teeming with heroes.
If he ran into one that somehow beat him and the other two... No Kurogiri, no escape.
Shigaraki's thoughts shifted. He couldn't rely on Kurogiri to bail him out now. Maybe that is part of what he's supposed to learn. If he was going to make it out he would have to play it smart. But he was surrounded by
idiots. But it didn't matter, they weren't the key to getting out of this, he was, or at least he will be.
He'd played games like these before, battle royale's and even trying and failing to learn those dumb chess games with his master. He's used to this. This is no different.
Shigaraki got his Bug to show him the artifacts that were needed to getting out of the game. 'That's it then... I'll grab one of these objects, preferably the USB, and then I'll horde it somewhere...'
Toga's voice broke through his thoughts. "So what's the plan Shiggy?"
"I'm thinking," he said.
If he was his master would he be looking at this as a trap? No.
There it was, that cold clarity he needed to decide his next move. "You two. I've decided, we need to grab one of these objects before anyone else gets too it, then we hide it and gain allies for when we get out of this game."
Yes. That's how he'll win the game. 'And we'll kill any UA brat we see.'
The NPC's will be there in case we need to gain a point before the fourth day too.
Great. Perfect. "Let's go east."
___The street was quiet, save for the faint unnatural buzz of this distorted world. The buildings of Hosu loomed around me, too precise, too polished, like a photograph edited to perfection. Only difference was these buildings were actually real. Not everything was frozen.
A faint tug of awareness drew my attention to a dimly lit alleyway. The paper clip I had left behind earlier hummed across my perception, guiding me forward. I found her, slumped on a wall, her body rigid, her breaths quick and shallow. That same hero girl I just helped out, hero student I'm sure. She was in her costume, a teal knee-length qipao with yellow accents. I didn't like the colour.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she clutched her knees to her chest. A panic attack, I realized. I stepped closer, my movements deliberate, careful not to startle her.
She didn't notice me at first, too caught up in the tight spiral of her mind. I leaned against a wall opposite her, crossing my arms. "Take your time," I said evenly. My voice calm but detached, like an observer noting the weather.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide with fear. She pressed herself further into the wall, her trembling hands slightly in defense.
"Relax," I said nodding at her hero costume. "You're in uniform. I'm guessing you're one of the good guys."
Her breath hitched, her gaze flickering between my face and the faint shimmer of paper folding lazily in front of her. She didn't speak, not yet, her breathing slowed slightly. Moments passed in a tense silence before she exhaled, her shoulders sagging.
"Are you... following me?" She asked, her voice hoarse.
"In a way," I replied, gesturing to the paper clip that was on her sleeve. "I tagged you back in the store. Wanted to see where you made it to."
She glanced down at the tag, her brows knitting together. "Why?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Call it curiosity. Or maybe I just don't like loose ends."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the wary edge in her eyes didn't soften. "Thank you," She said quietly, though it sounded more like a formality than genuine gratitude. "For, back there."
I tilted my head, studying her. "Your welcome... I guess."
For a while neither of us spoke. I could tell she didn't want to speak too deeply about what happened back there, when she first seen my face there was just a great well of fear.
She sat gathering herself.
I observed the world around us. Hosu was eerily alien yet familiar. Streets I recognized just being in stretched out before us, empty of the morning hustle and bustle. Windows were shut tight as if no one had ever been in the houses before.
"Do you feel it?" she asked suddenly, her voice was steadier now.
I raised a brow. "Feel what?"
"How lifeless everything is."
Her words hung in the air. I didn't respond since sarcasm was on the tip of my tongue, this was a game after all. Still, I did acknowledge that her voice held a clarity now that contrasted the trembling girl from only moments ago.
"I meant what I said." she continued. "Thank you for helping me with... that guy."
"Abyss." I supplied, watching her reaction.
Her face paled slightly, but she nodded. "Right, he would have killed me."
"He's a natural predator, you were just in his way for his next target." I said matter-of-factly.
She flinched slightly at my bluntness, but she didn't argue. Instead, she straightened, her posture more composed. "Why did you help me?"
"Why not," I replied, my tone dry. "You're a hero in costume. You're not the enemy. Besides I had priorities then."
"What priorities?" She frowned, her suspicion evident.
So I spilled what I figured out earlier. "There is a high possibility that every villain or criminal that was locked up in Tartarus, or even other state run prisons, have been released into this game"
Her eyes widened in shock at that. I carried on. "That would include villains that may have needed more that just one of the top ten to apprehend. Can you imagine going against someone that Endeavour struggled with beating?" I asked her.
She didn't even need to answer, it was clear she had no clue who Abyss was, which was a little surprising. But then again, by the time I got back home I had a lot more of an intrigue on hero news and the type of villains they apprehended.
Abyss hopped on to the scene as a villain and was around for two months before he had a run in with Endeavour and met his prison sentence.
Sure there probably weren't many as strong as him, but people like him could gather an army from the trash and make them a threat. Pebbles on the road could still find a way to trip you down to their level.
She sighed. "You don't seem like a hero."
"I'm not," I said easily. "Heroes are too busy worrying about ideals and saving everyone. I prefer a simpler approach—survive, move forward, repeat."
"That's selfish." her eyes narrowed.
"And yet, here you are, alive because of it." I countered. "Tell me hero—how many people have you saved today?"
Her jaw tightened, and I could see a retort forming on her lips. But before she could speak, a distant crash echoed through the street. We both tensed, our attention snapping to the sound.
***It was just a few thugs chasing a group of middle schoolers. Civilians who didn't have to take part in the death game. Neither did the thugs, they were just trying to give them a scare they said. In this environment.
After dealing with them, we secured the civilians in one of the apartment blocks and helped them form barricades that they can quickly slip under when necessary. After chasing the thugs away, I found out her name was Itsuka Kendo.
Itsuka knelt beside a young girl, offering her words of reassurance. I leaned against the wall, watching her.
"You're good at that," I said.
She glanced at me confused. "At what?"
"Playing the hero."
Her expression was a little hysterical as she responded instantly. "I am the hero."
"Sure," I said shrugging. "But those heroic ideals may struggle with keeping you alive past the fourth day. The clocks ticking and you'll need points to keep that pretty little head of yours on your shoulders."
I had to remind her of the situation she was in. I knew what I was capable of. I would get the points to survive and I wouldn't let anyone hold me back. There is an assortment of villains to choose from anyway if I was right about hardened criminals being released into the game.
But thinking that made me think of Midoriya, I don't know why really, we still hadn't really had a conversation and it's not like I planned on searching for him. But, I knew that no matter what happened, the likelihood of him taking a life was next to zero.
He's too kind for that. Kendo seems the same way, but I'd assume most heroes or hero students had to.
Kendo took some time to think on my question, her gaze was sharp, "And what about you? You just running around and hoping to stumble on to a way out."
I nodded.
"Yep, It's what I usually do, it's easier too. No one to slow me down, and no one to blame if things go south."
"That's not how you win this," She said firmly. "We need to work together."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I understand that very much so. But I still don't plan on doing that." She was about to retort again, hands on her hips and eyebrows creased, but I interjected. "But I don't mind sticking around until you find another hero to stick around."
Her eyes were searching mine, as if to decipher my intentions. Finally she nodded. "That's fine, but I don't need a bodyguard. I want to find my friends. And I want you to follow my lead."
"Sure boss. Whatever makes you feel in charge."
Her glare could've melted steel, but I didn't care. Once she finds her friends, or even Midoriya, I can leave then. I know for certain he won't agree with me. Four days! Finding the artifacts in that amount of time is impossible.
But there is another option.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The city was sleeping.
That's what it felt like to Bakugou Katsuki. As soon as the weird announcement was made, there was a nationwide lockdown. Curfew's for everyone. And anyone that wasn't meant to be out could be detained and questioned.
It was frustrating. Sure he didn't speak to them very much, but his classmates, a few, they had just disappeared without a trace, some support gear was found but that just told them that they were taken.
Classes had been called off, many of the teachers were out on duty leaving a few like Aizawa staying behind to watch over them. Bakugou barely looked at his phone, he muted the class group chat but he knew the conversations that were going on.
As soon as the event had started everybody busy on their interns was quickly escorted back to the school. They had dorms now, installed after the first villain attack, to keep them safe.
'Working just fucking fine,' he thought to himself sarcastically.
His thoughts were a storm. He was mad at everything, especially this new villain named Proxy.
It had been two hours since Bakugou had opened up his laptop. Proxy had chose which perspective was the main perspective as if it were a story, but you could still open another screen to continue the livestream from another's perspective as long as they weren't doing anything meant to be private. 'How courteous.'
It was two hours ago he watched his ex childhood classmate, Kobe Arakawa, fight and even fend off a villain that Endeavour had to bring out the big guns for to put away about a year and some change ago.
It was impressive, but that didn't mean shit to Katsuki.
Even in all his fucked upness, he knows how bad this situation is, how disgusting it is that some people are valuing this as just entertainment and a way to profit.
The screen had already shown people dying too. To the whole world, he wasn't pulling his punches.
It felt gut-wrenching. The worst part of it all, he could do absolutely nothing when it counted.
His hand hovered over the mouse connected to his laptop, clicking hesitantly on one of the many live feeds streaming the game. Drawn to the screen like a moth to a flame.
The feed flickered to life. Deku... That was the first person he seen. His familiar green hair tousled. He was walking alongside the class president.
There was nothing he could do, nothing but wait.___The streets were eerily silent, the hollow echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the lifeless buildings. Midoriya Izuku glanced at Iida Tenya walking beside him, his classmate and friend. Iida's eyes were downcast, his jaw tight.
"I'm sorry," the words came right out of Iida like a broken record, the weight of them pressing on his shoulders. "You're here because of me. I dragged you into that fight with Stain. If I hadn't been blinded by vengeance, you wouldn't—"
"Iida," Midoriya interrupted, his voice steady but kind. He stopped walking, turning to face him. "We've been over this. I made my choice and I'd do it again if it meant helping you and saving someone. Also, I probably would have been dragged into this anyway."
Iida flinched, his hands clenching at his sides. "But it was reckless. You shouldn't have had to risk yourself because of my mistakes. I—"
"You're not the only one who has made mistakes," Midoriya said firmly, cutting him off again. His emerald eyes burned with a quiet intensity. "We're all human. We mess up. But what matters is what we do afterwards."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy but unyielding.
"I know you're worried," Midoriya continued, his tone softening. "And I get it. I really do. But sitting here, stuck in the past, isn't going to help us get through this. Right now, we need to focus. On Todoroki, on the artifacts, on surviving and finding out if any more of our classmates are here so we can help them."
For a moment, Iida said nothing, but the tension in his frame eased. He adjusted his glasses, his voice steadier now. "Thank you Midoriya."
"Don't mention it," Midoriya said, waving off the gratitude. "Let's just keep moving. The faster we make sure he's alright the faster we can all work together on making it out of this game."
Midoriya wasn't only thinking of Todoroki, he also thought of Kobe. But he didn't want to say his name out loud.
____The sun hung high in this counterfeit Hosu. Itsuka walked beside me, her pace steady, though the slight tension of her shoulders betrayed her lingering unease.
She was keeping it together quite well. She glanced my way, her brow furrowed as if contemplating something serious. Finally she spoke.
"You're him aren't you?"
I raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "Him who?"
"Sōryū," she said, her tone both accusing and uncertain. "You're the guy I saw on the news fighting Overhaul. You're a villain."
I chuckled dryly, "Took you long enough to figure that one out."
Her reaction was immediate, a sharp intake of breath, her hands clenching into fists. She stopped walking, her eyes narrowing as she studied me.
"You're not denying it?"
"What's the point?" I shrugged keeping my stride.
For a moment she went quiet, confusion lined her face. I guess not everyone would know of me saving Eri, which is a good thing.
Kendo's gaze was boring into me, like she was trying to peel back layers to see who I really am. Then, to my surprise, she relaxed—a little, at least.
"I don't get it," she admitted. "If you're a villain, why... Why help me back there? Why bother saving anyone at all?"
"Maybe I'm just a complicated guy, villain one day and hero the next." I said.
She didn't laugh. Instead, she looked like she was truly mulling over my words. Her expression morphed into something more contemplative.
"I decided to be a hero when I was nine," she said suddenly, her voice quieter now as she followed behind me keeping up with my gait. "There was a boy in my neighbourhood—a total bully. He'd pick on anyone, mostly people smaller than he was. And he was a big guy for his age so that was almost everybody. And no one ever stood up to him."
I tilted my head, curious despite myself.
"One day, I caught him chasing this little girl," she continued. "She couldn't have been more than six. He pushed her, unknowingly into oncoming traffic. And I... I froze. I wanted to help, but I was scared." The story took a turn for the worse, but then her gait became more upbeat again as if she wanted to start skipping along.
"But then, Edgeshot, who was up and coming at the time, appeared out of nowhere. He saved her, so fast that it was like he was a part of the wind."
Her voice faltered, and glanced at me, almost apologetically. "That moment sticks with me. Not just because he saved her, but because he didn't hesitate." Again she got a little downcast, no doubt thinking about what happened with Abyss. "I want to be like that. Someone who can act without fear."
There was silence for a moment as I took in her story before thinking of a reply.
"Then don't lose that fear." I said, her brow's shot up in surprise at my answer. "I mean, I doubt that he has no fear just because he can jump on to a street of moving vehicles." I was finding it hard to wholly get my point across.
"If you lose that fear, you'd be more likely to jump into situations unprepared, you'd start moving and acting almost unhuman, like a robot. So if you want to be the best hero you can be, don't start trying to discard pieces of yourself."
She was now the silent one, her hands behind her back as she was staring at me as we continued to walk. There was a big smile on her face while I thought on her story.
I didn't have anything like that. She was the polar opposite of me, her passion and ideals were forged in admiration while mine had been tempered in a deep, dark underbelly meant to be forgotten.
I noticed then—a shadow flickering across the rooftops. An owl, it's movements were too deliberate, also it's presence felt too odd for the time of day.
Nocturnal creatures weren't supposed to be out here, especially not in urban areas. I guess, that could be someone's quirk at play. Someone is watching us.
I didn't let on. Let them watch.
Suddenly a feint hum emanated and my Bug appeared, bright red. So did Kendo's, a simple green in colour. They both glowed as they floated in place.
"{A new rule has been added:}" It announced in a monotone robotic voice. "{All players' quirks will now be displayed on the leader-board.}"
Kendo's eyes widened, "What? They're revealing that?"
"Seems like it," I said as I glanced through the leaderboard on my Bugs interface, "The rule was added by a guy named Nine, quirk: Weather manipulation." I said, she heard but she was also looking at her own interface.
She was looking at the names, probably searching for her classmates. I looked through as well and noticed some gray skull marks beside some names right at the bottom, most likely signifying the worst for them.
"Look," Kendo pointed. Her tone carried a note of relief. "My classmates—their are more than I thought, but they're alive. Yui Kodai, Jurota Shishida, Nirengeki Shoda, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu and Setsuna Tokage. That's all that are here and they're alive." The relief in her tone was palpable.
She breathed out a few sigh's. I seen some other names as well that I recognized mainly from the night before, Midoriya was alive, and so was Frosty, or should I say Shoto Todoroki and the other one Iida Tenya was too, couldn't say the same for the hero Native.
Unfortunate. But still, a majority is alive, but it hasn't even been a full day. They're alive.
"For now," I muttered.
Kendo shot me a glare. "Don't say that."
"Just being realistic," Is scrolled further, noting another pattern. "It's mainly villains who have any points. And a few, are already at fifty."
Her brow furrowed, 'sure', it looked like she wanted to say. Not because she didn't believe, she could see it. She thought that because they were villains.
"What does that mean?"
"It means they're not sitting around for someone to save them." I met her gaze. "If you and your friends want to stick to your heroic ideals that's fine, you'll just have to ask one of these people that have already hit the mark, to add a rule."
"What rule?" That was a dumb question. Or was it? Maybe it's not as obvious to some, or maybe she was still in a moment of thrill that her friends are alive that she is not thinking.
"One that lets players transfer points to each other," I said simply. "That way, our points can change every four days without killing. And it wouldn't bother any of the prior rules."
Kendo stared at me, her expression a mix of determination and glee. "You've thought about this a lot."
"Survival makes you think fast." I said with a shrug.
She didn't respond, but I could see gears spinning in her head. Her resolve was there but so were doubts.
"Come on," I said, turning to walk again. "We've got work to do."
___The morning light glared upon us. Even in a game the heat was unbearable, we're in the last few weeks of summer though so it should be cooler. And since we're surrounded by sea the breeze isn't bad.
Kendo adjusted the hem of her teal qipao, her fingers fidgeting absently. "This makes it a full day," she said, her voice carrying the slightest edge of frustration. "And we've found nothing. Just civilians sending us in circles."
I smirked. "Like that group who thought they saw a glowing torch in the convenience store? And you actually made us go."
"Don't remind me," She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "A glowing torch? Seriously? It was just some neon sign flickering."
Her reaction pulled a chuckle out of me, one that came easily despite our dire circumstances. "Maybe they just wanted to feel useful." I said with a shrug. "Can't blame them for trying."
"Still..." her expression softened, and she kicked a stray rock across the cracked pavement. "It feels like we're spinning our wheels here."
I glanced at her. "At least we're not spinning them hungry."
She blinked, clearly not expecting that comment. "What?"
"Think about it," I said, motioning to my stomach. "We've been out here for a full day, walking almost nonstop, and I haven't felt hungry. Haven't needed the bathroom either."
Her brows furrowed at the realization. "You're right. This is all so weird."
"We're in a game." I said aloud. The thought forming even as I spoke. "Maybe we're not operating like normal people anymore. We're more like game characters."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "That's disturbing."
"Sure," I said, watching her out the corner of my eye. "But it's efficient. No hunger, no bathroom breaks, no time wasted."
She didn't reply, her gaze was distant as she mulled over the idea.
We turn a corner, and the feint sound of voices reached us. My muscles tensed, and I held out a hand to stop her. "Wait." I whispered.
Ahead, a small group of figures stood in the middle of the street. I recognized one of them immediately—a large, round man in a yellow and with outfit that was hard to miss. Fat Gum. Beside him were three others: a girl with jet black hair pulled into a tight ponytail, another, also with black hair but long and straight. And lastly a boy with a ravens head.
Kendo's face lit up. "That's Yui, Momo and Tokoyami!"
The group turned at the sound of her voice, relief washed over their faces. Fat Gum waved, his grin wide and in my opinion, made his face look weird. "Oi, it's good to see some friendly faces!"
As we approached, I could feel their eyes on me, wary and calculating. It didn't take long for Fat Gum to speak.
"Hold on a sec," he said, his tone dropping slightly, "Aren't you Sōryū?"
Kendo stepped in before I could respond. "He's with me. He's been helping sir."
The heroes eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Alright. If the hero student vouches for you, that's good enough for now. Especially in the situation we're in now."
The group exchanged introductions, and I learned their names. Momo Yaoyorozu, the tall one with the ponytail, she exuded an air of composure that seemed to steady the others. Tokoyami Fumikage, with his dark avian features, he was quiet and his gaze was sharp. And lastly Yui Kodai, another who's presence seemed ghostly.
We gathered in a small circle, Fat Gum taking the lead. "We've been going through the west bank of the city since we got here. And there's some strange stuff happening, we haven't felt hungry or the need to use the bathroom. Heck, I even woke up with a new layer of fat this morning."
Kendo and I exchanged a look. "We were just talking about that." she said.
Fat Gum nodded. "Yeah well I've been thinking, this world runs on different rules. We're not functioning like normal people because we're not normal here. Daigo Kiyoshi made us into... something else maybe."
"That would explain a lot," I said. "Like how I slept for maybe an hour and still feel fine."
"Same here." Tokoyami said.
As the conversation shifted, I called for my Bug to come out and show the leaderboard. "Speaking of rules," I said scrolling through the names. "We need to go after someone to add one. Look at this."
The others looked at the screen.
Kendo pointed to the name I left on the screen. "Miyu Ogawa. She's got 98 points."
"She's not a known villain, may not have even been one before joining the game for all we know." I said. "But look at her quirk. Overwrite. She overrides the minds of animals."
My mind flashed to the owl I'd seen the day before. "I think she was watching us." I told them, Kendo gave a sharp look but didn't say anything.
Fat Gum sighed. "If she's got that many points she's dangerous. But some of those other names are known criminals that are even worse."
"So we need her. To add a rule that will allow us to exchange points."
"Exactly. This may get messy. And I apologize to you students for having to include you in this." Fat Gum said in a low and grim tone.
The hero students all told him it was all right, even I did which made him snap his head towards me. "Not you villain." There was an awkward moment of silence before he moved on.
"Alright, lets start moving quick. We split up into groups to cover more ground and find her base. Kendo, you stick with him—" he jerked a thumb at me. "Yaoyorozu, you're with Tokoyami, and I'll take Kodai."
"Meet back here in two hours, even if you've found nothing." he said. "And try not to get into any fights." He then looked dead at me. "And don't slow us down."
"Don't worry," I gave him a salute. "I'll keep the rookie safe."
Kendo shot me a glare, but the tension in the group eased slightly. For now, we had a start.
Good!
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Miyu Ogawa reclined in her plush leather chair, a single manicured finger lazily tracing the rim of a wine glass she had took. Even without the need to eat or drink she still enjoyed the vice and the charm it seemed to give her. The room around her was decadent yet cold, a place with dark wood paneling, a crystal chandelier casting fractured light across the walls.
Velvet curtains hung heavy over tall windows, obscuring the artificial sun of the Hosu city replica. The scent of lilies wafted faintly, clashing with the iron tang of blood still lingering in the air.
Her ruby red eyes gleamed with detached amusement as she watched her "holy trinity" at work. Two stood by her side, still as statues, their gazes vacant. The third knelt before her, his back arched awkwardly as she rested her legs upon him like a footstool.
His name was Yo Shindo, a young and promising hero student, now reduced to an object of her whimsy. She admired the irony: a would be hero, utterly subjugated after putting on quite the show for her.
Miyu tilted her head, her crimson hair cascading over one shoulder like a silken flame. Her lips curled into a smile as she gazed at her reflection in the wine. "Perfection," she murmured, taking a deliberate sip.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to her childhood—a gilded cage of privilege and expectation. Born of a quirk marriage, she bore no resentment for the calculated union of her parents. Why would she? Their union had produced her, a masterpiece. Her father, Haruto Ogawa, was a man of unrelenting ambition. His quirk "Override," was an extension of his willpower, bending others to his control after four simple touches. She had inherited this power, refined it, perfected it.
It can be used on all life forms.
As a child she watched how her father wielded his quirk. The human trafficking rings he orchestrated were a machine, and he the engine. She remembered peeking into his office, where broken people were his obedient pawns. He never hid it from her; in fact, he welcomed her to this darker side of his business.
"You'll inherit it someday Miyu" he had said, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. His voice brimmed with pride,
"You have the potential to even surpass me."
Her heart had soared at those words. It wasn't love—no, Haruto Ogawa did not "love." But he had a boundless amount of respect. And that was enough for Miyu, to know that he valued her as an heir to his empire. That was enough.
As she grew, so did her appetites. Wealth, control, indulgence. All were hers for the taking. But she had been spoiled beyond reason, yet it never quenched her thirst. Always, there was a gnawing desire for more, for a stage grand enough to unleash her full potential.
When she had randomly dropped in Game Hosu, she felt like the universe had finally conspired in her favour. A chance to dominate, to thrive in chaos, to elevate herself to divinity.
Her gaze drifted to her captives. "My trinity," She mused aloud. "You are my hands, my voice and my will."
Along with Shindo was his high school classmate, Tatami Nakagame, and another one she captured was the sand hero: Snatch. All looking like lifeless dolls. She savoured the memory of taking them in—the subtle dance of touches, the flicker of resistance extinguished. Her quirk was an art form, and they were just more art pieces.
Tatami, the loyal shield. Snatch, the relentless enforcer. And Shindo, the steadfast foundation. Together, they formed a perfect unit, bending to her every whim without question.
A flicker of movement caught her eye, an owl, perched by the windowsill. It's beady black eyes reflected the light of the chandelier, unblinking. She leaned forward, her lips curving into a predators grin.
"So they've made friends," she purred, remembering the duo that she had tracked earlier. She identified them as Kobe Arakawa, Soryu, and Itsuka Kendo. They had joined forces with others, one she was sure was another hero. How quaint.
Her mind raced, already crafting a plan. She set her wine glass down with deliberate care, the faint clink echoing in the quiet room. "Tatami, Snatch," she said, her voice sharp and commanding.
The two snapped to attention.
"Go..." she ordered, her tone honeyed yet cruel. "Introduce yourselves. Lure them out." her grin widened, baring her perfect teeth.
As they turned to leave, she gestured to the bloodied corpse slumped against the far wall. "Oh, and clean that up before you go. This place may be a battleground but standards should be maintained."
They obeyed without a word, dragging the body away as she watched with detached satisfaction.
Miyu leaned back in her chair, one leg crossing elegantly over the other. Her fingers toyed with the edges of her ruby-red hair as she whispered to herself. "Let the games begin."
____Everything was bathed in a golden glow through the shopping center's glass dome. The sheer scale of this place was overwhelming. Multiple stories, with an array of shops, cafe's and an enormous aquarium at it's centerpiece stretching down to a lower level,
The water inside shimmered, reflecting the sunlight and colourful fish that darted in between coral structures. A manta ray glided lazily near the glass, eliciting gasps from a group of children pressed against the barrier.
Kendo's gaze softened as she spotted a young boy dragging his parents toward the aquarium, pointing excitedly at a cluster of jellyfish. "You'd think we weren't in a death game." she said, her voice tinged with wonder.
I shrugged. "Maybe they're just trying to hold on to something normal."
We stopped near the aquarium railing. The water's movement cast rippling patterns across the glossy floor, and a woman standing nearby caught our attention. She had a weary smile as she kept a watchful eye on her two kids. One was a toddler barely old enough to wobble, and the other was a little girl bouncing on her heels, her pigtails swaying as she squealed at the jellyfish.
Kendo leaned over slightly, catching the woman's attention. "It's nice to see them happy." she said warmly.
The woman gave a small, tired laugh. "They don't know any better. And I'd like to keep it that way. They'll have enough to worry about when they grow up."
The kids were mutants, took after their mother, they had features that reminded me of a bear. Mutants still get discriminated against today, long after they have even been accepted as regular members of society.
I studied the woman's expression. It was a balance of exhaustion and a quiet determination.
"You're brave," Kendo said. "Not boarding yourself and them up, giving them this kind of experience."
The woman shook her head. "It's not bravery, not really. If we hide, we'll just fall apart in fear. At least this way, the kids have memories worth keeping."
Her tone carried an unshakeable sincerity, and even I found myself nodding in approval. Kendo however, wore a wistful smile.
"Have you noticed anything unusual?" I asked, cutting to the reason I was searching for a crowd of people anyway. "Fights, disturbances, anything like that?"
The woman shook her head, but before she could answer, a boy, no older than ten stepped forward. Another mutant kid, his greenish skin shimmered faintly under the sunlight, and his bat-like ears twitched with every sound. His wide eyes and toothy grin gave him a predator's appearance, but his curiosity made him seem harmless.
"I heard fighting yesterday." he said confidently, stepping between the woman and Kendo. "It was over by the eastern plaza. There was also that little rumbling, like an earthquake."
The woman looked as if she had just remembered and nodded along.
Kendo crouched to his level, her smile warm. "An earthquake? Are you sure?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! It shook the ground, and then it got real quiet. And then we came here so I forgot about it."
He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the light, before darting back to the mama bear. Kendo rose, her expression hinted at relief.
"Guess we've got a lead," she said.
"For now," I replied, my tone dry. We turned to leave but the woman's voice stopped us.
"Good luck," she said, her gaze sincere. "And thank you."
Kendo gave a small wave, and I simply nodded before we headed for the eastern plaza.
***The eastern plaza was not withing the shopping mall like I had believed. Instead it was another separate shopping mall that housed mainly the cinema and other relaxing recreational activities like that. Out journey there was quiet,
And then suddenly interrupted. By a hero. One with a hulking frame and a shimmering presence.
"Isn't that Snatch?" Kendo asked. Her tone was delight and confusion, the sand hero was quite well-known. He had a strong quirk and mainly focused on localized areas so he had a good reputation for helping them out.
He looked a little weird in person, "Yeah, that does look like him." but something was off. His movements were stilted, there was no greeting, and his eyes, they were glassy and vacant. It was as if he wasn't there.
Kendo took a hesitant step forward, but I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Hold it."
I had to pull her further back as Snatch raised his arm. His hand dissolved into a torrent of sand that surged toward us with incredible speed. Kendo barely dodged, the attack missing her by a few inches and leaving a deep gouge in the pavement.
"Definitely not hero like of him." I muttered stepping in front of her.
"What's wrong with him?" She asked. "Does he think we're villains?"
"No, probably some form of manipulation he's under." I said while watching Snatch, he reformed so easily. "Someone's probably controlling him."
Kendo's eyes widened and her voice lowered. "How do we stop it?"
"Pretty sure the most common way is to hit him. Hit him hard enough to break the connection."
Snatch moved before she could reply, his face dissolving into a swirling storm of sand that rushed towards us like a tidal wave. Kendo reacted first, her fists enlarging as she slammed them into the ground, creating a shockwave that scattered the sand momentarily. I followed up, creating a fan of paper that was as big as a four seater car.
I waved my hand in motion and a gust of wind pushed the sand back along with the hero dissolving to move with it.
"Let's keep him busy!" I shouted, leaping to the side as Snatch reformed. He swung his massive arm of sand toward Kendo, who ducked and retaliated with a powerful uppercut, her enlarged fist colliding with the heroes chest and sent him staggering back.
The fight became relentless. Kendo's raw power kept Snatch and his mechanical moves on the defensive, while my paper constructs harassed from every angle. But it wasn't enough. Snatch's control over his quirk was too precise, his attacks too fluid.
"We need to restrain him!" Kendo called out, dodging another strike.
"Working on it!" I replied. My hands moved in a flurry as I folded my paper into a massive net. I launched it at Snatch, the reinforced fibers wrapped around the hero, pinning him to the ground.
I noticed that he only dissolves into sand from his upper body, or at least from his upper body it is more instantaneous. His lower half stays the same, so even if he tries to dissolve and leave, his lower half would most likely drag him back.
"Now!" I shouted.
Kendo didn't hesitate. She charged forward, her fists growing to an enormous size as she delivered a devastating blow to Snatch's head. The force of the impact caused his sand wafting in the air to collapse around him.
For a moment everything was still. Then the hero groaned, his eyes blinking as clarity returned between them.
"What... happened?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.
"You were being controlled." Kendo explained, her voice compassionate.
Snatch sat up slowly, his grim expression palpable. "Controlled? Damn it!"
I clapped my hands alerting them both to my presence again. "Kendo, the two hours are up," I told her. "Snatch can explain himself and what happened when we get back to Fat Gum and the rest of them."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Fat Gum crouched beside, his enormous frame casting a protective shadow over the group. "Take your time," he said gently, but the edge of urgency in his voice betrayed concern. "We need to know what we're dealing with here."
Snatch inhaled deeply before he began. "It began with two kids," he said, his voice gravelly steady. "Yo Shindo and Tatami Nakagame, hero students from Ketsubutsu. They were attacking civilians—cornering them, like predators."
Kendo, standing beside me, stiffened.
"So I stepped in. Tried to calm them down, thinking that maybe they'd snapped under the pressure. You know I'm the one who got Shindo a recommendation." he paused. "And then someone arrived, a woman."
Fat Gum frowned and leaned in closer.
"Older woman. Mid-twenties maybe. Red hair, red eyes. Walked around like she owned the place." Snatch paused, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "No hesitation, no fear. She didn't just think she was in charge—she knew it. Every word, every move, screamed control. Not the kind of arrogance you get from overconfidence. It was more like she believed everything in existence is only there to serve her."
A chill swept over us. Kendo looked unsettled but not deterred.
"How did she fight?" I asked.
Snatch's brow furrowed as he replayed the memory. "Efficiently. No wasted movements. She used her hands mostly—strikes, deflections, grapples. Every hit and then she placed her hands on my head and the moment I got a clear look into her eyes... I blacked out."
So simple martial arts then, trained? most likely.
"She didn't fight like a brute, or even a typical quirk user. But she was comfortable fighting in either scenario." Snatch finished.
Kendo frowned, her fists clenched at her sides. "But how did she control you? Was it her eyes?"
That would be the most obvious answer.
"I don't think so, I got a look of her eyes before and I felt nothing." Snatch refuted as his gaze fell to the ground.
There had to be something else, the quirk exposal rule wasn't looking so threatening now. There was nothing on her, other than overriding the minds of animals. It never mentioned she could do so to humans.
That just further confirmed my theory that it's data from the quirk registry and people rarely update that. Maybe it was the amount of times he caught her gaze, or for how long.
"... none of it makes sense, and we now know that it can operate at extremely far distances too." Yaoyorozu's voice brought me back to the conversation.
"Maybe it's emotional," Tokoyami offered, his voice low and thoughtful. "Some quirks thrive of fear or doubt."
"It's all possible," I interjected, my voice sharp. "But we don't know. And guessing won't help us take her down."
Fat Gum crossed his arms, his expression grave. "Whatever it is, she's got control of two kids and even had a pro hero. That alone makes her a threat that is on a high level."
"I'm going back!" Snatch straightened and hardened his gaze. "I'm not leaving those kids like that."
"Agreed," Fat Gum said.
"Piggy," I said in the direction of Fat Gum. "You'll be taking lead right? It only makes sense since all your fat can block any incoming attacks."
The group all gave different reactions, Yaoyorozu and Kendo seemed a little stunned and Kodai and Tokoyami looked confused. I grinned while looking at the hard look Fat Gum was giving, it just looked weird on his face.
"Watch it villain, I give the orders here."
I raised my hands in defense.
"Sure thing piggy."
____I didn't think Hosu would have a building like this. Hosu is a relatively new city in Japan's history, so I wasn't thinking of a building that stands like a relic, looking oddly gothic. Dark ornate arches framed the windows, which glowed from within.
Vines clung to the stone walls, a strange touch.
Fat Gum was the first to speak. His voice sharp as he stood tall and confident to the building that Snatch lead us all to. "This is it everyone. Stay sharp."
The door creaked open as we stepped inside, revealing a grand foyer that seemed plucked from another world. The marble floor gleamed under the light of the massive crystal chandelier. The air smelled faintly of lilies, but underneath was a metallic tang that set my teeth on edge.
"This place doesn't feel like a hideout." Kendo muttered, her eyes scanning the room.
"More like her own personal stage."
Before anyone could respond, the first sound of movement broke through—a low growl. Then another. Shadows moved in the corners of the room, and dozens of eyes glinted in the dim light. Dogs emerged first, their lips curled back in snarls, followed by cats with their backs arched and fur bristling. Birds swooped down from the rafters, their claws outstretched like talons.
The attack was immediate. The animals swarmed us with unnatural ferocity, their movements coordinated as if directed by a single mind. A hawk dove straight for me, it's beak aimed at my face. I ducked, swatting it away with a burst of paper that cut through the air and caught it, wrapping it's wings tightly before lowering it gently to he ground.
"They're just animals!" Kendo shouted, her voice strained as she fended off a lunging dog with her enlarged fists. "Don't hurt them if you can help it."
I didn't need her reminder, but it didn't make things easier. A tabby cat leapt for me, claws extended, and I sidestepped, creating a thin sheet of paper to guide it safely to the side. I hated cats—always had— but even I wasn't heartless enough to harm one that was clearly being manipulated.
I clasped my hands, folding paper into a large dome-like structure. I expanded it outwards, enveloping the swarm like a net closing on a school of fish.
But just as I secured the last one of the animals, a tremor shook the ground. I turned in time to see an accurate description of who Snatch said was Yo Shindo slam his fist into the floor, sending a shockwave that cracked the marble and disrupted my construct.
"That's one way to introduce yourself," I muttered, dodging as Shindo charged. His movements were aggressive but unfocused, his eyes glassy like Snatch's had been. "Another puppet."
Shindo's attacks came relentlessly. He lunged at me with the force of a battering ram, and I barely had time to form a shield to absorb the attack. I didn't want to go too hard against him since he is just being manipulated. No need for any long lasting damage.
Meanwhile, a girl, Tatami Nakagame had entered the fray, her body shifted weirdly, it compacted like a cannon ball as she targeted Kendo and Kodai. The two hero students worked in tandem, Kendo using her enlarged arms fists to block while Kodai manipulated the size of some stone to then form a wall in between them.
I felt a weirdly oppressive presence. I looked up to see crimson hair flowing down catching the light like it was a halo of fire. Ruby eyes gleamed with manic delight, and her lips curved into a smile that sent shivers down my spine. She surveyed the room like she was looking down on a battlefield about to give commands to her army.
"My, my," she purred, her voice smooth and mocking. "Such energy, such passion." This was obviously who we are here for. Miyu Ogawa.
She locked eyes on Snatch. "So you came right back to me my enforcer." Without hesitation she jumped in to the fray and sped off to attack. Her movements were a blur of precision and elegance, her strikes were perfectly timed, her palms targeting pressure points with surgical accuracy.
They were all targeted at Fat Gum, and even he looked like he was struggling to absorb the attacks. He was forced to stagger under the pressure of her of her attacks. Snatch joined him, his sand forming a defensive barrier, but Miyu adapted seamlessly, weaving like a dancer in a waltz.
I watched closely as I continued to fend off Shindo, dodging his wild swings and countering with paper constructs to restrain him. Her fighting style was deliberate, every movement calculated to control the flow of the battle. Her palms struck with precision, I noticed something peculiar—an unusual indention on her skin, deeper than normal, almost like a brand.
She was trying to touch them. Not just hit them—touch them. Fat Gum was much larger than her so he was probably missing those movements as he was dodging her onslaught. A pattern emerged, her movements subtly shifting to maximize contact.
"It's her palms." I shouted out. "She's trying to touch you. Don't let her."
That was most likely how she played. Her quirk needed something as simple as physical touch to place people under her control.
Miyu froze mid-strike, her eyes locking onto mine. A slow, delighted smile spread across her face, and she straightened, lowering her hands to her sides, "Clever boy," she said. "You've figured it out."
All of a sudden, both Shindo and Nakagame leapt back to her side and stopped fighting us.
The room's tension felt electric as Miyu's delighted smile widened. Her crimson hair cascaded like fire around her shoulders as she leaned slightly forward, appraising us. Her two "guards" stood beside her, flanking her like sentinels. Snatch's eyes flickered briefly with clarity, but there was tension in his posture as if his body were fighting against itself.
"Since you've figured out my little secret," Miyu began, her tone whimsical and almost playful, "why don't we make this interesting? You've come here for something, haven't you? What is it?"
"We're here for the two you have under your control." Fat Gum said firmly, stepping forward. His fat dominated the room.
Miyu tilted her head, her ruby-red eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, the heroic camaraderie. How sweet. But I don't believe in charity."
"And what do you believe in?" Kendo snapped, her fists still enlarged and ready for a fight.
Miyu chuckled, a soft melodic sound. "Control my dear. I believe if you have control of yourself first you can fully control others, your circumstances, your environment and your peace."
"That's funny," I interjected, my tone sardonic as I stepped forward. "You don't seem too peaceful."
Her gaze flickered towards me again, sharp and probing. "Ah, the clever boy speaks again. Tell me what's your proposal, hmm? Surely you have one."
I took a deep breath, ignoring the eyes that were on me. "I want you to add a rule of my choosing." Probably better not to say it outright yet.
"What?" Kendo's voice was sharp and it cut through me. "Kobe, we're here to save them not negotiate a rule."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, after those days walking around for searching, her panic attack and relief that her friends were still alive, the thoughts she wouldn't verbalise about the chance of having to take another life to save her own.
I turned to her, doing my best to keep my expression neutral, but my voice was edged with steel. "Wrong. Our original intention was to get her to add a point for us. We only added on saving those guys once we found out they were here. And we're running out of time. If we don't add that rule, then even if they survive. We'll all die."
"You can't just—" Kendo started, but I cut her off.
"We fight her again if we have to," I said flatly. "But right now, we should focusing on the points."
Fat Gum's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering between Miyu and me. The others were silent but I could feel their disappointment, but why? I'm not like them and they should know that. I'm not a hero student and I'm not a hero. Even if I never interacted with the Shie Hassaiki and acted outside of the law, I probably would have just stayed at home and been a regular high school kid.
Or not, I don't know. But I do know that they shouldn't have expected any less just because I happened to save a few people.
Miyu clapped her hands slowly, the sound echoing in the stillness. "Oh, this is delicious. The conflict, the stakes... I couldn't have scripted it better myself."
"Enough games," Snatch said suddenly, stepping forward. For a moment, it looked like he was going to attack Miyu—but then he turned sharply, walking to her side.
"Snatch!" Fat Gum's voice was a mixture of shock and fury.
Miyu's laughter was light and airy. "Oh, you probably don't know do you? Once you're under my control, you don't simply recover. Unless my influence is broken for a full day, it was only a matter of time before my little enforcer came back to me." she petted Snatch's arm like he was a loyal dog.
The revelation hit like a thunderclap. This changes things. Kendo looked at me, her expression a mixture of anger and confusion. "So what now Kobe? huh? Your plan just got a whole lot messier."
I know it did. I was feeling unusual, I chalked it up to being in a completely alien setting.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The air was thick with tension as Miyu's ruby red gaze flickered between all of us. Her smirk was radiant and cruel, as if she already knew the outcome of the standoff. She leaned against the intricately carved desk at the center of her grandiose chamber, her fingers idly tracing the edge as if she had all the time in the world.
"You want your precious rule?" she purred, her voice silk laced with barbed wire. "Fine. I'll grant your request. But only on one condition."
Her eyes locked on to me. "You." she raised her finger, the motion as she pointed as her words. "Kobe Arakawa, Soryu. You join me. Do that and I'll release these three under my control and add your rule."
The words hung in the air like smoke from a fire, suffocating and impossible to ignore. Kendo's gasp was sharp. Fat Gum stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides While Kodai, Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu exchanged uneasy glances.
I had a feeling what they were thinking. Her having full access to a villain that could take on Overhaul, not even me being arrogant, but I am quite strong. I can handle most situations even one's that aren't built for me to handle. This sociopath having access to me would give her a huge boost in power and it was only the second day.
I ignored and kept my gaze on Miyu. Her grin widened as she took in my silence.
"Why him?" Kendo asked. She didn't want to say it, but most people would choose the experienced hero. And Fat Gum is probably stronger than Snatch. Maybe the diva has a fetish.
Miyu tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Why not? He intrigues me and I want him. And lets be honest darling—your group doesn't exactly have the leverage to negotiate."
Kendo stomped on the ground angrily. "We're not bargaining with lives—"
"Stop!" my voice cut through her protest. Kendo turned to me, her eyes wide with shock.
"What are you saying?" the quiet voice of Yui Kodai graced my ears.
I ignored the question while weighing the options. Joining Miyu wasn't a matter of sacrifice—it was practical. If the rule was added, it would level the playing field in this damned game. Besides, I'd been trained to resist mental quirks. Not perfect, but I could probably resist at the right time and stab her in the back.
"I'll do it." I said, the words left my mouth before I could second-guess myself.
Kendo stared at me as if I'd slapped her. "You can't be serious. This isn't just about the rule—she's talking about controlling you."
I met her steady gaze. "But adding this rule will help people play the game easier without worrying for their lives."
"You're insane." Fat Gum growled, his massive frame looming beside me.
"Maybe, but again, standing around and arguing isn't helping anyone." Of course if we all just fought then we may come to another conclusion, but that may also get people killed.
Miyu's delighted laughter filled the room. "Oh, how noble. I knew I picked the right one."
She straightened, her expression shifting to one of mock seriousness. "But before we finalize this delightful arrangement, let's make this clear. I'll release these three from my control first. Then, once you've all left, I'll add your precious little rule."
I took a step forward as she was controlling the three under her control to step forward to Fat Gum and Tokoyami. Kendo stopped me mid-stride.
"You don't have to do this."
I grabbed her hand and removed it from my shoulder. There was no need for second guessing, even if I were to fail here, if I were to die. Sure I wouldn't want that outcome, but then, somebody else would just find a way to add that rule. Somebody else would continue to search for the three artifacts and then everybody would be free and at peace.
And I planned on making this hard for the crazy woman.
"Everything will be fine." I said lowly.
"Come on little Soryu." Miyu called out to me.
I walked closer to her and Kendo and the rest left, they didn't say a goodbye and I didn't expect one. I stood by Miyu's side as we watched them leave the front door together. As soon as they stepped out...
I grabbed Miyu's hand and held it over her head. "Add my rule now!" She wasn't fighting back, instead just smiling at the aggression.
She heard our conversation later so she new exactly what rule to add.
"Bug," she called out, her Bug, a pale orange colour instead of the Red mine was or Green Kendo's was, came to life. "Add a rule for players to be able to transfer points to each other."
"{Request Denied.}" My eyes widened at that. Why would it be denied? Even Miyu looked surprised.
My mind was racing for an alternative. This couldn't have been for nothing. Miyu looked at me, as if waiting for either an answer or an attack.
"What about players that have already met?" I told her.
She waited expecting her Bug to answer but there was nothing, not until she made her request again.
"Add a rule for players to tranfer points to players they have met."
"{Request granted.}"
I let out a sigh of relief, the rules that could be added could be seen as strict, from a heroes lens. But to me, I think that they are just designed to be more detrimental to players that have a lot of good will, if this is really being watched by the whole nation, or even the world, then people would have more fun watching how we get out of harder situations.
My Bug came to life and said in the same monotonous voice that a new rule has been added.
The weight in my chest eased slightly. But it was short lived as Miyu turned to me, her grin sharpening. "Now lets seal the deal, shall we?"
Her hand reached out, brushing against my arm. The first touch was electric, a jolt that seemed to travel straight to my brain. My muscles tensed involuntarily. Her second touch was slower, more deliberate, her fingers tracing patterns along my shoulder. My breathing hitched as my mind went pitch black for the briefest second.
"Relax," she whispered, her voice a velvet command.
I bit the inside of my cheek, grounding myself with a sharp sting of pain. It felt too much like she was unravelling something inside of me, like I was just a piece of string.
But just then, as her hand hovered for the third touch, a deafening crash shook the room.
The wall behind us exploded inward, the debris scattering as a figure stepped through the dust and smoke.
Overhaul.
His presence commanding as it was menacing. He stood at the center of chaos, flanked by members of the Shie Hassaiki.
All of them conveniently happened to be dropped in this game, and so conveniently found each other's whereabouts huh?
"Am I disturbing something?"
___The room seemed to hold it's breath in the moments after Overhaul's question. He hasn't changed a bit, although his appearance did a bit, still wore a face mask and still wore gloves to cover up his hands. My old boss,
And my soon to be new boss glared at the wreckage, her carefully cultivated annoyance shifted into a look of indifference. 'This could be my chance.' Miyu doesn't have me under her control so in the chaos I know is coming, I can escape.
"Kobe Arakawa." Overhaul drawled, his voice still held the long hum of a drone in his base. "We have unfinished business."
Miyu, standing poised beside me, let out a sharp breath. Her irritation was visible from the tightness of her jaw. "What an uninvited nuisance," she said, her voice laced with disdain. Her crimson eyes flicked over Overhaul and his entourage, who were less in number I noticed, but still had the people he had merged with, free and to themselves I might add. "You've interrupted my most delicate negotiation."
Overhaul's gaze didn't shift as he barely glanced toward Miyu. "Stay out of my way," he said coldly before returning his attention to me. "I owe this one something special."
"Do you?" I spoke evenly, my stance was ready as I gave a little smirk. "I figured breaking your legs and throwing you to Tartarus would eventually show you gratitude."
The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn't amusement. Behind him Rappa cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing ominously in the tense air. "I've been waiting for this," Rappa growled, his wild grin belying the sheer force of his presence. Tengai adjusted his own gloves on his hands with precision, while Yu Hojo's molten hands sparked faintly.
Behind us another crash.
"Well whoopty fucking do another brute." Miyu cried out sarcastically,
Behind us it was Fat Gum. Snatch wasn't with him but Momo Yaoyorozu was, as well as Tokoyami, Yo Shindo and Kendo. Snatch, the other pro hero wasn't here.
I really didn't know how I felt about them all being here facing off against someone like Overhaul.
"We heard the crash, but we didn't expect this." Fat Gum said.
He was instantly ready as he alerted the others to get in their stance and get ready for a fight. Kendo's fists enlarged instinctively almost as if on instinct. And Yaoyorozu created a staff, I almost forgot what she explained her quirk to be, quite similar to mine.
"No one is leaving here alive," Overhaul said, his tone devoid of emotion as his hand brushed the ground. The floor began to shift violently, warping into jagged spikes that shot upward like a living enemy.
"Spread out!" Fat Gum bellowed, taking the lead as the room erupted in chaos.
Rappa lunged at Fat Gum with a roar, his fists were a blur of motion as they hammered against the hero's resilient form. Each strike reverberated like thunder. Tengai moved beside him, his barriers amplifying Rappa's assault, creating a relentless barrage that even Fat Gum was struggling to absorb.
Shindo jumped into the fray, his quirk shaking the ground beneath Rappa's feet. The brawler only laughed, his wild eyes gleaming as he relished the challenge. His fists crashed down like a brutal arc.
Kendo darted forward, her massive fists slamming into the ground to create a shockwave that was enough to disrupt the attack. Her resolve was strong despite jumping into a situation that on paper should have been too much for her.
Meanwhile, Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu faced off against Yu Hojo. Tokoyami's Dark shadow lashed out with ferocity, dodging Hojo's crystal strikes and countering with solid swipes of his own. Yaoyorozu created an insulated barrier to protect them both.
And through the cacophony, I seen Miyu step back, her expression serene and confident despite the situation. Her focus was on Rikiya Katsukame, who stood like a hulking statue amidst the turmoil. "You'll do nicely." she murmured like it was a promise.
As the battle's raged on around us, Overhaul's focus remained on me. His movements were deliberate, his quirk warping the environment with every step. The floor buckled and twisted, forcing me to stay in constant motion.
"You think you've changed anything by taking Eri from me?" He yelled. "All you've done is delay the inevitable."
I didn't respond, instead throwing constructs of paper knifes at him. They sliced through the air with lethal precision, but Overhaul dodged them and then brought up the ground to act as a shield for him.
"You're still a senseless coward." I yelled to him. "Hiding behind others. Hiding behind your quirk."
His eyes narrowed, his calm demeanour cracking ever so slightly. He lunged, his hand grazing the edge of the paper shield. The impact sent a ripple of force through the air, but I held my ground, countering with a strike to his ribs that made him stagger.
"Do you even fight for anything?" Overhaul asked loud enough for me to hear. "When we interviewed you, you said you didn't even have any goals. To me that made you the perfect tool."
Most of the time, I just fight in the moment or for an immediate need. I don't think all too much on the greater need for it.
"Oh, so that was an interview," I said while evading a swipe of his hand.
Every strike Overhaul made was with the intent of just ending me. He lunged again, and I twisted, letting his momentum carry him forward. My aikido training kicked in, turning his strength against him. My hands locked onto his wrist, guiding him into an unbalanced stance. His other hand lashed out, but I sidestepped.
"You're predictable," I taunted, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "You hide behind others because you can't handle the weight of your own failures."
Overhaul's expression hardened, his movements growing faster, more erratic. Each attempt to corner me grew more vicious, but I danced around him, my strikes calculated to keep him off balance.
The clash of battle echoed through the building, but a sharp, agonized scream pierced the air. My head snapped toward the sound, and my stomach twisted.
Fat Gum's voice roared, "Shindo!"
I didn't need to see to know what happened. I could feel it, like a weight, a shift in the atmosphere that only came following death. My chest tightened as I caught sight of Yo Shindo crumpled to the ground, a gaping wound in his chest where Rappa's strike had connected. Blood pooled beneath him. Another death in front of me.
"You couldn't save him," Overhaul said in a clinical and somewhat mocking tone. "You couldn't save him like you did Eri right?" He was sounding sarcastic.
It weren't my job to save him. That guy was a hero, sure he didn't ask to join this game, but I'm sure he agreed to jumping in to try and save me. I didn't ask for that. I don't need that.
"You're a parasite," I spat out at Overhaul. "A coward that uses others to mask his weakness." Overhaul's demeanour remained calm.
"And you're a hypocrite," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Fighting for nothing, chasing ghosts."
I lunged, driving him with a series of strikes that he couldn't keep up with. My movements were sharper, and more aggressive. The fight spilled outside, the air a cool contrast to the heat of the battle. The streets were empty.
Overhaul twisted the ground beneath us, jagged spikes shooting up in a desperate attempt to push me back. I was faster, I weaved through with ease and the flow of a ballerina. My paper constructs lashed out, slicing through the air like blades.
"You're heartless," I said, my voice steady, despite the strain in my muscles. "You used Eri like a pawn, like she wasn't even human. You brutalized her. Broke her, over and over—"
"Spare me your sanctimony," Overhaul interrupted, his tone dismissive. "Everything I did, was for a purpose. Sacrifices are necessary for progress."
"Sacrifices?" I almost laughed, dodging another spike that shot up off the ground. "You merged with your own men, taking away the autonomy of people loyal to you. You kill people without even a second thought. You're not a visionary—you're just miserable scum."
Overhaul's composure cracked, his anger was bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand. The world needs order. Without it people like you—"
"People like me?" I cut him off, "The world has order, even if it's a little messy, that's every system. Sure I don't follow it, but I try not to hurt anybody that doesn't deserve it, even some that do."
I got quiet, the noise was dimming down, maybe they were all trying to escape.
"You know, I planned on finding you one day," I paused again. "I was going to cut your hands off and hand you over to authorities. Let you live with the consequences of your actions, powerless to hurt again."
Overhaul's gaze darkened, his fists clenched as he lunged at me with new fury. I sidestepped, grabbing his arm and twisting it with precision. He stumbled, but I didn't let up, driving him back with a flurry of strikes that left him no room to recover.
"But now," I said, my voice cold and unyielding. "I realized that you really don't deserve mercy, you don't deserve a thing."
I created little kunai that pierced his palms.
"Wait..." he splurged out desperately.
I ignored it and gave him another solid punch to his gut. I stood over him watching his feet kick. More paper kunai pierced his hands, his fingers next. He was letting out a pathetic scream that wouldn't be heard from the building, there was blood caught in his throat.
In my hand, I formed a long blade with countless layers of paper to reinforce it. Overhaul's eyes widened, he looked in my eyes and found no sympathy. All I seen was cowardice and a fear that made him rip his hand from their trapped spot on the ground nearly bending them out of place without even knowing.
"Don't die pathetically too. Just accept it."
I placed the sword right above his rapidly beating heart.
...And I pressed down with force, I went until I was sure that I had pieced right through. Overhaul's eyes had shock in them mixed with fear, his trousers were damp in his crotch area and the smell hit my nose in an instant.
His body wiggled for a solid thirty seconds and then it just crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Dead.
He was dead.
'Well I did promise Eri that her nightmares would never reach her.'
This just wasn't how I expected it to be.
I felt weird. Even with all the brutality of the Eden Project, I had never taken a life before, I had seen corpses though. I had been used to death. Maybe that was why it was so easy to take a life for me. Especially one as vile as Overhaul.
There was no need to feel bad, or like I had done the wrong thing. I'm in a place where even if I were to restrain him, then what? There was a prison in Hosu, but it was just a holding cell. There was probably no one that could hold him for long.
Something I knew from the beginning.
How long till more people come to that realization? Heroes, they were people that were probably trained for this. But what about the hero students, like Midoriya or Kendo.
'Oh yeah.'
Kendo was with the others in the building.
I turned and immediately stopped.
There in front of me was Itsuka Kendo staring at me in disbelief. The others had rushed in behind her with the exception of Miyu. Fat Gum was carrying Shindo's dead body.
Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu and Kendo, they looked sick. They looked scared. They looked at me with those terrified faces. Tokoyami looked the most normal and Fat Gum didn't look too phased. Were they thinking of how they may have to do something like this too?
We don't know how long we would be in this game for.
A sigh came out of her lips as she raised her hands to cover her eyes. The sigh was one of understanding, but also disappointment.
They didn't belong here.
And I didn't belong with them.
I was only cut out of my haze when I heard my Bug pop out and announce... "{You have gained 10 points.}"
I flew into the sky. High above the clouds and disappeared. They would all come to the realization soon that I still made the right choice. They could take their time with it.
For now, I'd just keep moving until it felt right to stop.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The world outside was unnaturally still, a quiet enforced by certain government bodies swift action to stifle the chaos rippling through the city. Most television stations had been banned from discussing the games orchestrated by Daigo Kiyoshi.
The residents of Hosu that had not been taken to this game world were finally allowed to return to their homes with the promise of no threat coming to them. Although many were reluctant and many were too young to be trusted to survive on their own with their parents nowhere to be found.
Buildings that once showcased recent events, new up and coming heroes or even important announcements, were now gone. Leaving behind static filled screens that added to the eerie atmosphere of uncertainty. Even online platforms were under heavy surveillance and would receive fines of an untold amount.
The whispers of the death game only existed in many encrypted forums.
Endeavour stood in the purple haze of the poorly lit rundown bar, his imposing frame casting a long shadow over the room. The bar reeked of stale beer and perspiration, it's floors sticky with dirt and liquor. Several men and women were restrained, their wrists bound in cuffs.
A laptop lay open on the counter, it's screen glowing with a betting pool for the games. Names scrolled by, heroes, villains and civilians alike, some marked with gruesome odds and predictions.
He stared at the detainees, his face marked with controlled fury. These were the people exploiting the suffering of those trapped in the game, turning their pain into profit. Endeavour's fists clenched at his sides, the flames licking his skin burning hotter with every passing moment.
'How had it come to this?' He'd spent his life locking away monsters, people like Abyss, ensuring that they would never come to harm a single soul again. But now they roamed freely, their predatory instincts unleashed upon the vulnerable. He thought of Abyss—the water demon who left a trail of bodies for Endeavour to hunt him down by. Seeing Abyss on the live broadcasts on the first day killing a child with absolutely zero remorse it left a stinging pain with the number two hero.
And then seeing him clash against a boy that looked no older than his son was surreal. Once he got a good glimpse of him he learned the boy's name was Kobe Arakawa, another figure who was plastered over a lot of the media recently.
Soryu, or Kobe Arakawa as the private hero network had named him, was a puzzle Endeavour couldn't quite piece together. The boy is undeniably skilled, wielding his quirk with a precision and creativity that reminded him of hawks and himself in a way.
But the boy's later confrontation with Overhaul, that lingered in his mind. It wasn't the first kill that was on the broadcast. The way the kid had fought, his movements calculated and brutal, making sure to avoid the grip of the dangerous quirk he was going up against. Then the final decisive blow, killing Overhaul.
Endeavour didn't fault the boy for it, he doubted many would. In that moment, it had been the best choice. Overhaul was a monster that couldn't be reasoned with. But watching that act of finality, Endeavour felt a gnawing unease. The games would start warping everyone's morality, forcing people, heroes, students and maybe even civilians alike, to accept killing as a necessity.
If this continued, it wouldn't just be the villains who were irreparably changed. The thought of his son, Shoto, being forced into such decisions made Endeavour's chest tighten in a way he couldn't explain.
'Shoto.'
Endeavour knew he hadn't been the father that Shoto needed. He pushed him with the weight of ambition, his own goal. He couldn't take that back now, and if worse comes to worse, he'll never even get the chance to.
But this game, it's not just some physical test, they were an assault on the very essence of what it meant to be human.
Endeavour's flames flared brightly as his thoughts spiraled. He couldn't let Shoto lose himself in that place. His son was stronger than that—stronger than him. Shoto had the chance to be the hero that Endeavour failed to become in every way possible. A symbol of unyielding resolve instead of ruthless ambition.
Taking a deep breath, Endeavour's flames extinguished, his expression hardening with resolve. He turned to the officers flanking him, their faces tense. "Take them in," he said in a low commanding voice.
As the officer's moved to comply, Endeavour stepped outside, the cool night air doing little to soothe the fire raging within. He looked up at the darkened skyline, his jaw set. He couldn't reach Shoto, couldn't protect him the way he wanted. But he could still fight for him, for all of them, in whatever way he could.
The world was quiet, but Endeavour's resolve only burned brighter. He would ensure that when this was over, there would still be something worth fighting for.
___The midday sun bore on the schoolyard, casting sharp shadows on the ground where a young Izuku Midoriya stood surrounded. His arms stung, crimson welts already forming where the heat of Bakugou's explosion kissed his skin. The tears in his eyes blurred the sight of his tormentor—a snarling, confident Bakugou who towered over him with his usual entourage flanking him.
"Why're you crying Deku?" Bakugou taunted, his voice a jeering snarl. "Think you can start ratting on everything I do to my ma!"
Midoriya sniffled, clutching his burned arms close to his chest, but Bakugou wasn't finished. He grabbed both of those arms, his grip was firm and unrelenting, and he forced them towards Midoriya's face.
"Why're you hitting yourself?" Bakugou jeered, slapping Midoriya's cheeks with his own hands. The impact stung less than the humiliation, but the mocking laughter of Bakugou's lackey's felt like an avalanche burying him in shame.
Midoriya's bag lay discarded nearby, it's contents unceremoniously dumped out. One of Bakugou's friends picked it up a tattered notebook labeled
Hero Analysis for the Future: Volume 4. He flipped through the pages, pausing when he noticed the detailed notes on Bakugou's quirk—diagrams, estimates of his explosive power, and even theories to improve it.
"Oi Bakugou, this whole things about you!" the lackey called out, waving the book like a trophy.
Bakugou's face darkened, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he snatched the book away. "What the hell is this nerd? This what all your shitty mumbling is about? 'Hero analysis for the future..." Bakugou continued jeering, his quick burst in anger squashed by his lust to hurt, "... when will you get it you quirkless retard. You'll never be a hero."
The insults came rapid-fire, each word a dagger. Finally, Bakugou tossed the book into the trash bin nearby. "Keep dreaming Deku," he spat before walking away, his gang trailing after him like hyena's.
Midoriya stood frozen, his breaths shallow. His knees trembled as he bent to collect his scattered belongings, the sting of humiliation burning brighter than the welts on his arms. He reached the trash bin, toppled over, staring at his ruined notebook, now stained with leftover juice and bits of paper.
"Pathetic."
The voice startled him. He turned to see a boy leaning casually against the wall of the school. His light brown eyes seemed to glow in the sunlight, piercing Midoriya with an intensity that felt heavier than Bakugou's explosions.
It was Kobe. He wasn't part of Bakugou's group, nor did he speak much to anyone, not after his father left. His presence carried weight.
Kobe's gaze flickered down to the trash bin, and somehow, without moving a muscle, he made Midoriya feel even smaller. "How long are you going to let them walk all over you."
Midoriya flinched. The words weren't spoken cruelly, but they cut deep. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out.
Kobe stepped forward, pulling the notebook out of the trash with a casual motion. "If this is your dream," he said, holding the now soggy book out to Midoriya, "Don't let other's stomp all over it."
For a moment, Midoriya just stared at him. Then he took the notebook with trembling hands. When he looked up again, Kobe was already walking away, his silhouette disappearing with the afternoon glare.
The memory faded, and Midoriya blinked, his focus returning to the present. The grey tone's of the villain's fabricated Hosu hummed around him. But his mind was strangely on the past.
Back then he had been weak and powerless. A doormat for others to wipe their boots on. But not anymore. Life had taken him far from those moments of despair. His mother had worked tirelessly to move them to Tokyo when he was twelve, leaving the shadow of his old life behind.
He met All Might, the symbol of peace, his favourite hero and he inherited his quirk that now surged through his veins.
But he couldn't stop the twirling of thoughts in his head.
Kacchan... Kobe... Names from his past lingered like ghosts, reminders of who he was and what he wanted to be. His relationship with Bakugou had become complicated, a mixture of resentment and reluctant respect. As for Kobe, it was basically non existent.
Midoriya shook his head. Kobe was here, in this nightmare of a game. Their path's diverged so completely, and yet, here they were, forced together by a twisted design.
Not only him, but his classmates. He had met Uraraka. He had found her when he and Iida were still searching for Todoroki, eventually they found him as well with some people from Class B. They were with the Pro hero Crust, Midoriya held himself back from acting like a fan.
Determination lay in his heart. He has All Might's power, he has to be stronger now. Not for himself, but for everyone caught in this chaos. He'd save people, like All Might.
"Midoriya." He heard the gentle call from Todoroki who had snook up to his side.
The group were in a Libarary, dusty bookshelves that stood silent, it was an odd serenity in the context they were in.
The number 6 hero Crust stood at the forefront, his shield like arms crossed as he scanned the room with a sharp gaze.
Midoriya went to sit down beside Uraraka who was nervously fiddling with loose thread on her sleeves. Todoroki leaned against a pillar, his expression stoic as ever, while the two class B students whispered to each other. Iida, he was sat closest to Crust and was attentively watching the entrance to the library.
Crust broke the silence, his tone was heavy and baritone, it commanded attention. "We've all seen what's out there. It's surreal honestly. But you guys have been taking it well so far."
He looked around at the group one more time, a more noticeable stutter in his speech. "We didn't choose this, but as heroes we have no choice but to face it now. Each of you has something the world needs right now. Courage, determination, the ability to protect other's even when it's hard. that's what makes a hero."
Midoriya's eyes lit up with a mix of awe and resolve. Crusts words ignited something in him, reminding him of the very reason he'd taken the first step on his journey to becoming a hero.
"For those who have passed on in this moment," his voice was softening, "we can't let their sacrifices be in vain. We stand together, but not just for ourselves, for everyone trapped in this nightmare. For every civilian looking to us for hope. For every teammate we've yet to find."
Tetsutetsu clenched his fists. "Damn right, we do! We're not going out without a fight."
Tokage smirked, "Big words ironhead. Just make sure you don't get too ahead of yourself."
Uraraka spoke up, her voice trembling but firm. "We can do this. I know we can. If we stick together, there's nothing we can't handle."
Crust nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit." Tears were starting to flow from him.
Midoriya rose to his feet, his determination spilling over. "All Might always says its a heroes job to save people with a smile. I don't know how much I can smile right now, but I know I can at least save people. And I'm not stopping until everyone's safe."
Crust placed a hand on Midoriya's shoulder, his expression proud. "Then lets make sure every step we take brings us closer to that goal."
'Yes.' Midoriya thought. 'We can do this. I can do this.'
____The room smelled of disinfectant. White walls. White floors. White lights. A sanitized prison disguised as a laboratory. They called it the Eden Project, we were children meant for more. Children of hope, that is what they called us.
We didn't have names in Eden. We had no need for them. That was the first thing they took. We were subjects, numbers, variables in a grand experiment designed to push the limit's of humanity's potential.
So we whispered. It started small and unnoticeable. A quiet rebellion against the erasure of who we once were. Someone, a boy older than most of us, had whispered his name to another during a practically gruelling physical endurance test. It spread like wildfire.
At night, when the staff thought we were too exhausted to think, which most of us were, we'd huddle together in the absence of any light. That's when the games would start. Whispering our names, passing them between one another like secret treasures. And we remembered. It was a way to remind ourselves that we existed.
"I'm Riku," the boy would say,
"Who are you?"
We'd whisper back. And for that brief and dark moment, we weren't experiments. We were just kids clinging to identity in a place meant to take that away.
But that end came brutally and swiftly.
One day, Riku didn't return from morning evaluation. Instead we were all herded into the cafeteria, a sterile, joyless place where the food was as flavourless as the air we breathed. The staff stood at the front, faces hidden but voices sharp.
"We've discovered unauthorized communication among the subjects." one of them announced, their voice lacked any emotion. "This behaviour undermines the integrity of the project and will not be tolerated."
Two guards dragged Riku into the room. He was barely recognizable. His face was swollen, one eye completely shut, his lips cracked and bleeding. His body limp, dragged across the floor like a trash bag.
They threw him onto the floor before us. A staff member crouched down onto the floor before us, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "This is what happens to those who defy the rules."
Riku had no parents, they said. No one to miss him. We watched as they ended him. Quick, methodical and efficient. Riku's screams echoed in my ears, haunting, primal and then... silence. They dragged his body away.
"Every creation is only as strong as it's foundation."
Next was just as bad. They turned on us, each of us subjected to punishments just as bad as the next. The whisper game stopped. Everything stopped. And all we had to do from then on was survive.
I sat in my bunk that night, staring at the wall. I felt empty. Hollow. A deep gnawing loss I couldn't shake. I felt anger, and I felt shame.
Now, in the present, I stared at hands. They were still stained in red in my mind, Overhaul's blood vivid against my skin. The memory of his lifeless body flashed before me, his damp trousers, his wiggling, his fear.
It was deserved.
But the faces I got, maybe in my mind now they were worse. But the recoil and their widened eyes. What should I have expected.
It shouldn't have even mattered. No. It doesn't matter.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The rain didn't stop. It had been two days now, the rhythmic patter against the window almost made me forget that this isn't a real world.
I found myself in an inn—a quaint, quiet place that seemed like it belonged in another time. I wondered if it really existed in the real Hosu. The walls were made of weathered wood, the floorboards creaked underfoot, and the faint smell of dampness lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of aged leather and mothballs.
The rain had dulled the world outside to a muted gray, but here inside, there was warmth, a flickering fireplace casting dancing shadows across the room. It felt safe, or as safe as anything could feel in this cursed game.
The inn was full of faces, most of them were young. Children ran through the narrow halls, their laughter brittle and fleeting. Their were elderly people too, their faces lined with worry and weariness, their eyes haunted by the knowledge that they would not last long if they for some unforeseen circumstances had to leave.
Then there were the young adults, those my age or a little older, none past their early twenties. They were the ones doing all the work in here, they moved in silence, doing everything they could to maintain a semblance of normalcy.
The oldest among them was a woman, only 22, with a kind demeanour. She acted as a caretaker for the children, her voice was gentle as she soothed their fears and mediated their squabbles. Her boyfriend, a tall and broad-shouldered man with a permanent look of exhaustion, worked alongside her, they were both keeping the group together with a silent strength. They had done well to create a sense of peace and belonging in these fragile walls.
But peace is a delicate thing.
I sat by the window staring at the rain-soaked streets, watching the rivulets of water carve patterns down the glass. I liked looking at the rain fall but I didn't like being out in it. Not necessarily because I liked staying dry. The rain made my quirk harder to use.
Wet paper lost it's strength, it's durability, it's edge. I would have to pointlessly continue to reinforce it which could just be a bother. Out there, I was at a disadvantage, and in here I was surrounded by good people, although I could tell some of the more sensible one's didn't trust me.
One of them was a girl with short black hair and sharp eyes. She watched me from across the room, she didn't try to hide it and she had been doing so since I got here. Her gaze was piercing, unblinking, like she was trying to see through me. I ignored her, this was her home after all, her safe space. I was the outsider here.
The children were playing in the corner, their laughter cutting through the gloom like a knife. Most of them ran and shouted, their energy was boundless, despite their circumstances, but one boy sat apart from the rest. He was small, his knees pulled to his chest as he stared down at the floor. His hair was a messy tangle of brown, and his eyes were distant, unfocused, as if they were somewhere far away.
I'd seen that look before. It was the look of someone lost in their own head, someone trying to make sense of a world that didn't make sense. Without thinking, I stood and walked over to him. He didn't look up as I approached, his gaze was fixed on the ground.
"Hey," I said softly, crouching down to his level. "What's your name?"
He didn't answer. His hands fidgeted with his shirt, his shoulders tense. A sheet of paper began floating in my hand. With a flick of my wrist, it folded itself into a bird, it's wings flapping as it hovered in the air. The boy's eyes widened slightly, his focus snapping to the bird as it fluttered in front of him.
"Pretty cool huh?" I said, letting the bird gently land on his knee.
He didn't respond, but his hand reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the paper wings. I created another figure, this time a fox, it's tail curling as it pranced around in a circle around the boy. His lips parted slightly, the feintest hint of a smile breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanour.
"I can make anything," I said, keeping my tone light. "What do you want to see?"
He glanced at me for the first time, his voice was barely a whisper. "A dragon."
I smiled and nodded, folding the paper with practised ease. The dragon unfurled in the air, it's wings spreading wide as it soared above us, it's tail curling like smoke. The boy's eyes lit up and for a moment he looked like any other kid, free of the weight this game had placed on him.
He stood suddenly, his voice still quiet but filled with a newfound energy.
"I'm going to show the others." he said as he ran toward a group of children.
I watched him go as my creations followed him, a faint warmth blooming in my chest. But it was short-lived. The moment passed and the weight of reality set back in. I felt like I was a little more desperate to get out of this game for some reason.
I stood slowly, my joints stiff, and I made my way to the door.
As I stepped outside into the hallway, the girl with the sharp eyes was waiting for me. Her arms crossed and her expression hard.
"You need to leave." she said, her voice carried venom.
I raised my eyebrow, tilting my head slightly. "Excuse me?"
"I know who you are." she fired back. "You're Soryu. A villain."
My stomach twisted but I kept my face neutral. "I'm not here to hurt anyone," I said calmly. "I just needed to stay out of the rain."
"It doesn't matter," she snapped. "You're a villain. You're a bad guy. And bad people bring trouble. If you stay here I'm sure something bad will happen. So leave!"
I met her gaze, seeing her fear and anger in her eyes. She wasn't wrong, my presence here could just result in a major risk.
"Fine." I said after a long pause. "Tell the others I left to find a friend."
She blinked, surprised by my compliance, but nodded. "Good."
I walked over to a window in the hallway and opened it, I pulled my hood up with her staring at me as I go. I leapt out, cold water instantly started soaking my clothes. I didn't look back.___The streets were empty, the rain muting the world around me. I walked for a few hours not feeling any strain on my legs, I had stopped by a few places to avoid the rain and only left whenever I heard people approaching in groups.
The girls words lingered in my mind. They made me think of my sister. Yuki. I wondered what she was doing right now.
Eventually I stopped in front of a small convenience store, it's fluorescent lights flickering in the rain. I stepped inside, the bell above jingled softly.
And I was met with an unexpected presence.
The Rabbit hero Mirko.
'She was also in this game.'
Her presence hit me like a tidal wave. She was a force of nature, her silver hair cascading down her back like moonlight, her ears twitching as she scanned the room. Her posture relaxed and alert, her muscles taut beneath her hero costume. She was beauty and strength personified.
Her crimson eyes opened and flickered towards me. Sharp on instinct, and calculating, and for a moment, the storm outside felt like a whisper compared to the intensity of her gaze. Her gaze was pinning me in place, she recognized me.
"Why shouldn't I?" she asked finally, her voice as steady as a sharp blade.
I blinked. "Shouldn't what?"
Her smirk was humourless. "Kick you through that wall."
There it was, the unspoken tension given a voice. My heart raced, but I forced my expression to remain calm "Well, I'm not her to fight," I said. "And because it would be pointless."
"Pointless?" her tone was mocking, but their was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
"I'm just trying to get out of this game, same as you." that was meant to be framed more as a question but she glossed over it.
Her smirk faded slightly, replaced by a calculating look. She tilted her head, her ears twitching again. "If you're not here to fight then show me your points."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"I don't trust you villain." she said simply, she was a lot smarter than she gave off on first glance. If I were just coasting and acting like I just wanted out of the game my points wouldn't have changed past 8. But the four days had passed and I would have died, so the only way to bypass that was having my point score change whether it went down from transferring a point, or up from receiving. "I wanna know if you've survived by stacking up bodies."
Overhaul was a known villain so was named a villain in this game, like me, so he was worth ten points leaving me at eighteen. If she were to know that, then there was a likelihood she would assume I'm playing for all the wrong reasons.
Would she even give me a chance to explain? "What's the matter? Got something to hide?"
"Matter a fact, don't answer!" She said with a point. "Just pull out your Bug and show me!" It was a demand.
I couldn't fight her. Not here in this small convenience store. The fight would eventually break off outside, into the rain. My quirk was already at a disadvantage and Mirko was a top hero. Even in a fair fight, I'd struggle.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she walked over to me and I started to materialize my Bug. The screen came on. The holographic display began to glow faintly, the number
18 just starting to flicker into view—
"{New Rule Added: Every three days, players will be transported to random locations within the city. Transportation begins now...}"
And I disappeared.
'Luck seems to be on my side.'
The sensation was overwhelming, instead of the seamless transportation in game. I felt more like I was pulled and swirled in a new direction, a little disorienting.
When my vision cleared, I was lying on my back, rain still falling around me My head pounded, and the metallic taste of adrenaline lingered in my mouth.
I pushed myself up, blinking away the droplets clinging to my lashes.
A voice broke through the haze, soft but sharp. "You..."
I turned sharply, My muscles tensing. It was the girl from class B, part of the group that I left a couple days ago. Yui Kodai. She had a neutral face but her eyes were shaking with slight fear.
Before I could say anything, I felt it.
A pressure. A weight.
It rolled over me like a tidal wave, thick and suffocating, laced with the intent to kill. My breath hitched as I locked eyes with him, standing in the rain, his silhouette illuminated by a single street lamp.
Abyss.
His grin was wide, feral, his gleaming eyes fixed on me like a predator who had just found his prey. His sharp shark-like claws flexed as he took a slow step forward. The rain cascaded off his hulking frame.
"Well, well." he drawled, in his voice was a low rumble of mockery. "We meet again. How delightful."
A sudden burst of water shot towards us, sharp and deadly as a spear. My instincts screamed, and I moved without thinking, surging forward with blinding speeds.
"Move!" I grabbed the class B student and pulled her in close before leaping mid-air as the water sliced through the spot we'd just occupied, slamming into the wall behind us with a deafening crash.
We hit the ground and skid to the shadows of a nearby building. I could feel her heart racing, her breaths were fast and shallow.
She stared at me with a mixture of shock and confusion.
The sound of Abyss's laughter echoed through the patter of the rain violently hitting the ground. Deep and unrelenting.
"There's no need to run little mouse," he called out with glee. "The night's just getting started."
There was probably no way out of confrontation.
And as his laughter reverberated, I seemed to only realize something from our last encounter.
The rain is his domain.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
She hadn't expected him to save her.
Yui Kodai pressed herself against the cold damp wall, her breath hitching as she tried to steady her nerves. The storm outside roared, masking the faint sound of her heartbeat, yet the pulse was deafening in her ears.
Just moment's ago she had been seconds away from death. A spear of water sharp, and with enough force to tear through stone, had surged towards her with terrifying precision. She had frozen, every muscle locked in fear, knowing there was no escape.
Then, Soryu... Kobe. He grabbed her and leapt above the attack.
Just days ago he had appeared alongside her classmate, a quiet and enigmatic presence. He had, with quick and almost dismissive motion dragged her out of harms way. Now crouched beside him, hidden from their predator, Yui couldn't reconcile the image of her saviour with the man who had made their class' big sister figure show such a dreadful face, show tears.
Kobe, was the one who killed Overhaul.
Overhaul was a bad person though. No saving him. And Yui thought that even though people shouldn't kill, with someone like Overhaul it was always going to be either him or them.
And here he was, his killer, shielding her without hesitation, his gaze scanning their surroundings. rain dripped from his hood, tracing down his smooth face. When his eyes met her's there was no malice, no predatory gaze.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly and mouthed a silent question.
"Are you okay?"
Yui nodded stiffly, though her throat felt too tight to speak. She didn't know how to judge him. Just days ago he had been a stranger in their group, quietly contributing while keeping his distance. Then, he'd helped negotiate the rule allowing players to transfer points, which had probably saved many.
She hadn't thanked him then, and she didn't know how to.
Above the steady hiss of rain, a low chuckle escaped. A sound that sent a chill down her spine. Abyss was marching forward.
Kobe shifted beside her, his movements fluid. His voice was low and calm even in this situation.
"Are you going to run?"
Yui blinked, startled by the bluntness of the question.
"Cause if you're not," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "You'd better be ready to fight."
Fight? Against that?
She knows Abyss, she knows that he even fought with Endeavour. She knows how powerful his quirk is and how in this rainy environment he is probably at his strongest. Rationally, she knew her best chance was to flee, to escape while he kept Abyss occupied.
But what kind of hero student would she be?
She looked into Kobe's eyes again, there was no fear, only resolve.
"I'll fight." she said, her voice firmer than expected.
Kobe gave a light smirk, a faint expression that was gone the minute it appeared.
"Alright," he said rolling his shoulders. "Just don't die."
***Water surged through the gap, tearing the fragile structure as if it were paper. Then the man stepped through the wall. His grin wide, showcasing his sharp teeth bared at us. Water dripped from every inch of him, snaking around him like living beings.
"Looks like you picked up a stray paper-boy." his voice carried over like a storms roar.
"Sorry to disappoint," I said, "but I'm not in the market for an overgrown goldfish."
He laughed deeply, it was unhinged and it made the hairs on my back stand on end.
"I like clever pray, it makes the hunt much more fun."
I didn't dignify that with another response. Instead I let my fingers twitch.
Behind me, Kodai was breathing hard, her stance uncertain. I couldn't blame her; Abyss wasn't just dangerous. He was the rain. Fighting him in this weather was like fighting the ocean with a kitchen knife.
But we didn't have much choice.
"Stay close," I muttered to her, not taking my eyes off Abyss.
She didn't reply, but I heard her shift, her foot scuffling against the wet floor as she moved into position.
Abyss lunged.
Water surged forward, twisting into jagged spikes aimed at me. I dodged left, sliding on the slick ground, and flung a handful of paper shuriken. They sliced through the rain with a feint whistle, aimed for his legs.
He laughed again, a shield of water forming around him to block the attack.
"Do better!"
"Wasn't aiming for you," I said.
The shuriken embedded themselves into the ground at his feet, and with a flick of my wrist, they expanded into a lattice of sharp, interlocking blades. Abyss staggered, his footing momentarily thrown off balance.
"Now," I said to Kodai.
She reacted instantly, her quirk activating with a sharp burst of energy. A chunk of debris at her feet enlarged, becoming a massive boulder that was hurled into Abyss's side. The impact didn't do much damage, but it forced him to step back.
"Cute," Abyss snarled, his voice losing some of it's humour.
The rain around him spiraled, forming a massive hand of water that reached for Kodai. She yelped but managed to slip through.
I didn't wait for him to focus on me. I reinforced paper and flashed it into a flat sheet and swung it like a whip. The edge caught Abyss across the cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
His grin vanished before getting wider.
"That's a surprise."
The water around us erupted, a vortex of sheer force that sent me skidding backward. Kodai shouted something, but the roar of the storm drowned her out.
I barely had time to think. The vortex was pulling everything towards it's center, the air thick with mist and debris. I couldn't fight this head on, not like this.
My eyes darted to a storm drain partially hidden beneath a pile of rubble.
"Kodai!" I shouted, my voice straining against the noise.
She followed my gaze, understanding my plan immediately. Her quirk flared again, and the debris shifted, creating just enough space for an opening.
To keep him busy, I threw everything I had into a final attack. I launched a barrage of paper constructs, shields, shuriken, spears, all aimed for his head and torso. He countered effortlessly, the water rising to meet each strike like a living wall.
But his focus was on me, not Kodai.
"Run!" I barked, shoving her towards the drain.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second before diving through. I followed a heartbeat later, sliding down the slick concrete as the vortex closed behind us.
***The storm faded into muffled echoes as we tumbled into the dark tunnel. My body ached from the impact, my lungs burned from the frantic sprint, and the adrenaline still thrummed in my veins like a relentless drumbeat.
I sat p slowly, the dampness of the tunnel floor seeping through my clothes. The air was heavy and smelled faintly of mildew.
Kodai lay sprawled a few feet away, her chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths. Her usually neat hair clung to her face in soaked strands, and mud streaked her clothing. She looked as drained as I felt, her body trembling from exertion.
That..." she panted, her voice weak but carrying a faint edge of disbelief. "was insane."
I let out a dry, humourless chuckle, leaning back against the tunnel wall. The cold, damp surface was almost comforting in it's solidity.
Kodai rolled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. Her dark eyes flicked towards me, and for a moment there was silence between us. The dim light of the tunnel cast a shadow across her face, making her expression hard to read.
Then she spoke, her voice softer this time. "You didn't have to save me back there," This again, I wondered if all hero student's were like this.
I raised an eyebrow. "Was I supposed to let you get skewered like a kebab?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but there was no annoyance in her expression, just something closer to gratitude. She sat up fully, brushing a strand of wet hair out of her face. "I mean it. You could've run. Abyss was after you. Saving me only made things harder for you."
I shrugged, trying to play it off. "Doesn't matter. We're both safe now aren't we?"
For a moment she didn't reply. Her gaze continued to linger on me, thoughtful, before she spoke again.
"Thank you," she said, her voice steady now, carrying a sincerity that caught me off guard.
I blinked, unsure how to respond. Gratitude wasn't something I was used to. I opened my mouth to deflect—maybe crack a joke or brush it off—but the words got caught in my throat when I saw her expression.
She smiled.
It wasn't one of those polite, fleeting smiles that people give in short moments, nor the wary one's I had seen her give when I first joined her and her group with Kendo. This was different. It was small and genuine, softening her stoic features.
And in that moment, she looked entirely different.
The shadows of the tunnel seemed less oppressive, the harshness of the rain-washed world above temporarily forgotten. Her smile was disarming, cutting through the tension that had been coiling in my chest since the fight began, no since I had left their group those few days ago.
For the first time, I noticed the feint curve of her lips, the way her damp hair framed her face, and the glimmer of something unspoken in her eyes. There was a quiet strength in her, hidden beneath the exhaustion and the mud.
"Don't let it get to your head," she added, her smile widening slightly, breaking the moment's tension with a touch of humour.
I huffed a short laugh, shaking my head. "Too late."
She leaned back against the wall opposite me, closing her eyes briefly as she caught her breath. The faint smile lingered on her lips, and I couldn't help but notice how much lighter she seemed now, even in the dim, suffocating gloom of the tunnel.
For that moment, the storm outside didn't seem quite so close.
____The tunnel stretched before us like a black artery, twisting and curving into darkness. The faint, intermittent dripping of water echoed through the confined space, creating a rhythm that filled the silence between out footsteps. The air was damp and heavy, clinging to my skin and making my breath feel thick. The dim light overhead from an emergency strip, faint and flickering, illuminated just enough to guide our path without giving us a clear view of what lays ahead.
Kodai walked a step behind me, her presence quiet but not unnoticed. She seemed to be deliberately slowing her pace, her footsteps hesitant. It didn't surprise me, this wasn't exactly a comforting space.
"You ever wonder why places like this exist?" I asked, breaking the silence. My voice carried strangely in the tunnel, amplified in some parts and swallowed in others.
"I was just thinking that," she replied. "I didn't think Hosu's underground was this elaborate."
Most cities had intricate underground systems, from a time where villain attacks were much more brutal and devastating, evacuation shelters sometimes were not enough. But there could be something here that hasn't been discovered before.
"Maybe it's a villain lair." I threw out while rolling my shoulders. "Secret tunnels to smuggle loot or make a quick getaway. Could explain why it's not on any of the city plans, or the map."
"Right," she said, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Because villains are known for impeccable infrastructure."
A soft chuckle escaped me, and we kept walking, our conversation dissipating into the ambient sounds of the tunnel. The walls were slick with condensation, reflecting glimmers of the light like veins of silver running through stone. The air felt colder the deeper we went, carrying the scent of wet earth and rusted metal.
Kodai spoke again, her tone hesitant, like she was feeling her way through the words. "I've been thinking about... the kind of hero I want to be."
It seems like another thing this game would forcefully bring out in hero students. I glanced back at her briefly, keeping my footing on the uneven ground. "Yeah? Any conclusions?"
She shrugged, her expression thoughtful. "I used to think it was simple. You know, save people, inspire hope. That's what heroes are supposed to do. But..." She trailed off, her voice faltering.
"But what?" I pressed, genuinely curious.
She hesitated before answering, "This game... this whole situation. It's shown me how hard it is to hold onto that idea when everything feels so stacked against you. I've been scared, more than I've ever been in my life. I keep thinking, what if I mess up? What if I make a decision that gets someone hurt? Or worse?"
Her voice trembled slightly, and I noticed her hands clenching at her sides. She was spiraling, her fear bubbling to the surface despite her effort to suppress it.
"Hey," I said, stopping and turning to face her. "You're still here, aren't you? You're still moving forward. That count's for something."
She didn't meet my eyes, her gaze was fixed to the ground. "Barely. I feel like I'm holding on by a thread."
"Then let me tell you a story." I said, leaning casually against the damp wall.
She looked up, her brows furrowing in confusion. "A story?"
"Yeah," I waved. "There was this guy, right? Big-shot hero wannabe. He thought he could take on an entire gang of villains solo. Walked right into their hideout like he owned the place."
Her frown deepened. "What happened?"
I smirked. "Turns out, it wasn't a villain den. It was a pet shop. And the 'villains' were a bunch of angry parrots and a very territorial parakeet."
For a moment, there was silence. Then a snort. Kodai covered her mouth, but it was too late—laughter spilled out, shaking her shoulders. It was genuine laughter, the kind that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of everything around us.
"You're making that up," she said in between giggles.
"Maybe," I said, crossing my arms. "But it worked, didn't it?"
She shook her head, still smiling. "You're impossible."
"Guilt as charged." I said pushing off the wall and continuing down the tunnel.
As the echoes of her laughter faded, her expression turned more serious. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"Why are you... a villain?"
I stopped mid-step, her question hanging in the air like a tangible weight. Turning to face her, I tilted my head slightly. "Do you see me as one?"
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head quickly. "That's not what I meant. I mean you don't act like one. Not really."
"I'm just on a path searching for something," I said, my tone quiet but steady. "If I do that as a hero, or even a cop, it would take too long. Too many rules, too much red tape. And honestly? I never cared much for the theatrics of hero work."
Kodai nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "I get that. I don't think I'd function well if I were as famous as someone like All Might. The idea of being in the spotlight all the time..." she shuddered. "it isn't for me."
Her voice grew quieter. "Sometimes it feels like heroes are more interested in the fame than heroism."
"That's not just a feeling," I said, my tone darkening. "It's reality. The system's built to reward popularity and violence more so the effectiveness. And it creates ambition that doesn't always lead to a good place."
She glanced at me curiously. "What would you do if you could change hero society today?"
That was a good question. But I looked at her with surprise and was starting to get my dramatic flair on—
"I'm being serious." She said, her tone earnest.
I sighed, running a hand through my dreads. "Okay, hypothetically? I think I'd start by scrapping the ranking system. It creates a numerical value for people's worth, which is just asking for trouble. Do you remember the hero Surge?"
She nodded, her expression grim.
"Yeah, well, he got all the way to the number 12 by staging fake scenes so he could swoop in and 'save the day.' Worked for a while, until he screwed up and got a civilian paralyzed. All because he wanted to climb the rankings."
Kodai didn't say anything, but the look on her face said enough.
"Heroes shouldn't be measured by how flashy they are," I continued. "There's just too much focus on the billboards."
There was a long pause after that. The weight of the conversation settled over us like the damp air of the tunnel.
"I understand what you're saying," Kodai said finally, her voice soft.
We kept walking, the silence between us not uncomfortable but contemplative. Then, something caught my eye. A faint glow ahead.
My steps quickened, and as we rounded the corner, I saw it. The Founder's Torch. A simple wooden staff, rough-hewn and weathered, it's surface etched with intricate carvings that spiraled upward in an unbroken pattern.
No flame adorned the top, no golden light to mark it as extraordinary. But I knew the stories—this torch was said to be unbreakable, impervious to any force or pressure. It's very existence defies logic, yet here it was, tucked away in the depths of a forgotten tunnel.
Kodai's eyes widened. "Is that...?"
"Yeah," I said, my voice tinged with disbelief. "One of the keys to getting out of this game,"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Founder's Torch was a flame older than laws, older than rules, older than reason. It was said to have been lit by a nameless quirk user long before quirks were the great standard they are now. Back when power was fear and difference was a crime. The torch was no ordinary fire; it's light bore no shadow and consumed no fuel.
It blazed when humanity looked at itself and made a single, radical decision: to accept quirks into society. Some called it a miracle. Others called it a lie. But the torch burned, steadfast, as generations folded upon generations, a symbol of a singular, fragile truth: progress requires belief.
The flame had moved, of course, from it's original place on some forgotten mountaintop. Now it rested in the hall of integration in Hosu City, guarded and revered. It had survived wars and storms and moments of great despair. And now, as we carried it in this endless game-world, it struck me how heavy something weightless could feel.
The tunnel stretched before us, it's walls close. Kodai was holding the torch's base like it was an anchor. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, her quiet determination radiating like it's own light.
"We should probably figure out what we're supposed to do with this," she said.
I nodded, thinking. The torch was an objective, sure but it wasn't like there was an instruction manual tied to it. It just was. A burning piece of history, waiting for another purpose.
The thing was quite long and broad too, so it was noticeable to the wrong crowd.
"Let's ask the Bug for the location we put it in." I said, almost on a whim. As soon as the words left my mouth, the air shimmered ahead of us, and that infernal, grinning mascot of Daigo Kiyoshi's whimsy materialized. It's oversized segmented eyes glinted with unsettling delight.
"Congratulations!" it chirped. "The Founder's Torch must be placed at the plaza, in the heart of Hosu City. Once placed, it becomes immovable—an external fixture of the game!"
The Bug vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving a silence heavy with it's absence. Kodai's brow raised. "The center. That's not far from here."
"Guess we're walking some more then." I said,
Kodai's lips pressed into a thin line before she spoke again. "Maybe I can shrink it. Make it small enough to fit in one of our pockets."
"That's a good idea." I admitted. I watched as she used her quirk, the wooden torch compressing down into something the size of a finger. She slid it into her pocket like it was nothing more than a pen.
We moved on, our footsteps echoing louder as the tunnel widened and spilled us out into a market-like square. The buildings were skeletal and hollow, their signs and banners eerily pristine but utterly devoid of life. The air smelled faintly of damp stone, the kind of stillness that makes you feel like you've stumbled into a place that's been forgotten.
Kodai broke the silence, her voice quieter now. "You know, that last rule... the one that says we'll be teleported to random places every three days... I don't know what I'll do once we split up."
I stopped walking, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her tone. She didn't look at me when she said it, her gaze fixed on some indeterminate point in the distance. "I'll find you." I said. The certainty in my voice startled.
She finally looked at me, one eyebrow. "You sound confident."
I shrugged, though inside I was a mess of contradictions. I didn't know why I was being so cooperative, so... clingy. It wasn't like me. And yet here I was.
I held out my hand and conjured a piece of paper, folding it meticulously, letting my thoughts run on instinct. I moulded it into a small bracelet with sharp wing like attachments at the bottom.
"Here," I said, holding it out to her. "As long as you have this on you, I can find you. It even works at a far off distance."
She reached out to take it, her fingers brushed mine. The rain that had followed us earlier had stopped, and now the sun broke through the clouds, casting it's light over the abandoned market. The bracelet seemed to glow around her hands.
"Thank you," she said, her voice almost too soft to hear.
I nodded, unsure of what else to say. Watching her walk with it around her wrist stirred something in me. It felt odd, fragile and dangerous at the same time.
***
The journey to the heart of Hosu unfolded like a wandering though—unhurried and scattered, with Kodai's voice weaving in and out of my focus. The city around us was a surreal dreamscape of quiet streets and forgotten storefronts, the rain-washed pavement shimmering faintly in the sunlight. It felt like walking through a painting no one had finished.
Kodai, for her part, filled the silence with memories of a world that I hadn't been a part of. Her time at UA, her classmates, the people who made her feel welcomed. She spoke of Tetsutetsu's optimism and bravery, a guy named Neito Monoma and his relentless drive to be better. And of Kendo, of her kindness and inclusiveness.
"I interned with a hero named Blackbelt you know," she told me at one point, her tone carrying a touch of pride. "He's this martial arts hero. Real strange guy, but he knows his stuff. I wanted to learn how to hold my own without relying on my quirk too much. Messing with the size of things is handy, but it doesn't stop someone from knocking you on your butt."
I chuckled at that, "Sounds like you've taken a few hits."
"More than a few," she replied, laughing lightly. "But I was getting the hang of it. Then... this happened." her smile faltered for just a moment, before she shook it off. "I guess I should be glad I've some training. You know, in case we have to fight again."
"We probably will the longer we're out here." I said bluntly, I doubt she wanted to hear that but I didn't think about it before speaking.
"How do you look at this whole situation? Other than just some crazy guy dumping people in his playground." she asked.
I shrugged, "I don't. I just take it as it comes."
That earned me a side-eye, but she didn't press it further.
We walked on, the directions from the Bug guiding us further like a thread. The landscape shifted from tight alleys and abandoned storefronts to broader streets, their edges lined with silent statues and faded murals. Finally we reached the plaza, dominated by a marble statue standing tall in the center.
It depicted a woman cradling a baby. Her form was detailed, the folds of her robes flowing with impossible grace, but her face was blank. Smooth and expressionless, as though waiting for someone to carve and identity into her. The baby being cradled in her arms mirrored her facelessness, and the sight of it made my chest tighten.
Kodai stepped forward, her hand sliding into her pocket. She retrieved the torch, now small and unassuming, and stared at the holder carved into the base of the statue.
"This is it." she said softly, more to herself than to me. She placed the torch into a holder, and the moment she let it go and pressed her hands together, it expanded to it's original size. A brilliant light erupted from it, and the flame took hold, flickering with an intensity that seemed to challenge even the sun itself.
Then the sound came sharp, a resonating blare that shook the air itself. Kodai flinched, and I instinctively stepped closer, my body tense. The Bug appeared overhead, grinning wide as ever.
"{Attention players! An item has been placed in it's rightful place: The founder's Torch! one out of three objects secured. Keep up the good work!}"
The message repeated across the city, then faded as quickly as it had come. Kodai turned to me, her face lit up with a smile. "We did it," she said, the joy in her voice clear.
"Yeah," I said, unable to keep a small smile off my face. Her happiness was contagious, and for a brief moment, it felt like we'd won something.
But then the air shifted. It wasn't sound or sight that had tipped me off. It was a feeling. A faint prickle against the back of my neck. My smile faltered, and I turned, scanning the plaza.
And he was there. Watching us.
The Hero Killer, Stain.
He stood at the edge of the plaza, partially hidden by the shadow of a half collapsed building. He still had a crimson scarf, although it looked as though he had recently received it. It was heavy around his neck with rain, or blood, I couldn't tell which. His clothing almost matched what he wore the night I fought him with Midoriya and Todoroki.
And his eyes... those eyes cut through the space between us like knives.
Stain's gaze was locked on to me, unblinking, unyielding.
My heart hammered, but I wasn't afraid. Not exactly. Fear would have made me run, and I wasn't running. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I simply stood my ground, staring back at him as the weight of his presence settled over me.
Kodai noticed my stillness and followed my gaze. Her breath caught when she saw him.
"Kobe..." she began, but I raised a hand silencing her.
Stain didn't move. But he then spoke.
"Good work Sōryū." He said, his voice was rough, like gravel grinding beneath steel-toed boots. "The founder's torch. One step closer to freedom."
Kodai shifted beside me, her stance firm, but I could feel the feint tremor in her movements. She wasn't afraid, not exactly, but standing before someone like him wasn't the same as facing nameless villains. Stain was something else entirely.
"But freedom is not enough," he continued. "There's still work to do, even here. The game is full of them, fakes, opportunists, those who wear the title of hero like a badge but don't understand the weight of it. They tarnish the very idea and I exist to weed them out."
Kodai stepped forward, surprising me. Her voice was steady, but there was a sharpness to it, a defiance that cut through the silence. "Killing everyone who doesn't fit your ideal won't bring the society you are hoping for."
Stain tilted his head, his smile vanishing. "Is that so?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "You talk about fake heroes, but how does leaving bodies in your wake fix anything? How would that inspire the change you claim to want?"
For a moment, the plaza felt frozen, as though time itself held it's breath. Then Stain's focus shifted entirely to Kodai, his expression unreadable.
"What motivates you girl?" he asked her, his voice low and deliberate. "What keeps you walking the hero path when so many others lose their way?"
The question was left to hang in the air, ready to fall. Kodai hesitated, her brow furrowing as if she were searching for the right words, but before she could speak, I stepped in front of her, blocking his view.
"Don't answer him." I said, my tone sharper than I intended.
Stain's laugh was abrupt and loud, a sound that carried no mirth. "Protective aren't you?" he said, his gaze boring into me now. "But I'm not here to fight, not now. I've said my piece. Getting out of this place sooner will be better for us all."
His eyes lingered on me for a beat longer, and then he turned. The tails of his scarf trailed behind him as he disappeared into ruins, his form swallowed by the shadows as though he'd never been there at all.
For a few moments, none of us spoke. The silence pressed down, heavy and suffocating, until Kodai exhaled sharply and slumped forward.
"I don't like that guy." she muttered in a blunt tone.
I caught her by the arm, steadying her before she could completely collapse. "Easy," I said, guiding her toward the base of the statue so she could sit down.
"But it's not just him," she continued. "This whole game is wearing me out."
I crouched down beside her and stared at the ground. "You'll last."
She gave me a feint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. I stayed silent, unsure if she wanted to talk more or just sit there and breathe.
My thoughts drifted back to Stain, to the way his words clung to me like burrs. He had so much conviction to him that it was hard to ignore him, no matter how much I disagreed with his methods. But he was a hunter, cutting a bloody path through the game to uphold his twisted sense of justice.
He unnerved me.
He'd talked about fake heroes, about clearing the board of those who didn't deserve the title. I wasn't sure where I fell in his warped hierarchy. I wasn't a hero. Not in the way Kodai and her classmates were becoming. I didn't fight for justice or for peace.
I fought for truth.
The Eden Project. The experiments. The lives stolen and reshaped under the guise of progress.
That was my goal. That was what mattered.
I wanted out of this game as much as anyone, but not to save lives or make the world a better place. I wanted to rip away the veil, to show the world what had been done to me.
Stain's rhetoric lingered in my mind as I helped Kodai to her feet, his presence as vivid as if he were still standing there.
Freedom's not enough.
But, one thing at a time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
This game world shifted like clockwork, it's players dispersing like ripples across a fractured mirror. Ritsu Tanigawa, perched on the jagged remnants of a rooftop, watched the sun crest the horizon, the illusion of dawn cast in cast in binary hues of orange and red.
Below him, Tomura Shigaraki stood amidst the league members that were also in this game. Ritsu's sharp mind dissected the man who had forcibly drawn him into this chaos.
Ritsu's motivation's had always been and intricate labyrinth, one whose exits and entrances were constructed by his own hand. He sought a world where intellect reigned supreme, where the weak—those that were unable to navigate his mental mazes—were swept away in favour of the chosen few.
It wasn't hatred that drove him, it was disdain, sharpened by years of listening to his fathers self-righteous diatribes. Hideki Tanigawa, the cold and calculating headmaster, had spent Ritsu's childhood trying to bend him into a cog for his perfect machine.
Poisoning him at fifteen had been Ritsu's first act of rebellion—and his first triumph.
His thoughts turned to Tomura Shigaraki. He was fascinating, but not in the way Ritsu admired. Shigaraki burned with chaotic fury, a maelstrom of destruction fueled by deep-seated anguish. Such unrefined potential, Ritsu mused. Tomura had raw power, but his vision lacked precision, a jagged edge in need of honing.
"You're staring again." Shigaraki rasped, breaking the quiet.
Ritsu pushed his glasses up to his nose, a faint smirk curling his lips. "Merely observing. It's rare to see someone carry so much weight and yet seem so unbalanced."
Tomura's red eyes narrowed. "You always talk like that. Spit it out if you've got something to say."
Ritsu descended from his perch, his sleek black suit catching artificial light. The digital green patterns stitched into the fabric flickered like veins of energy. "You have ambition Tomura. That's undeniable. But ambition without understanding is a candle in a hurricane. It flickers, it burns, and then its snuffed out. You should be the storm, not the flame."
"And you're the one to teach?" Tomura scoffed, scratching his neck.
Ritsu's smirk deepened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm here to ensure you don't waste what's been handed to you."
"You're weird. But go on then. Enlighten me." He was listening. Even if there was a slight dismissal in his tone.
"The Hero Killer Stain," Ritsu began, his tone sharpening. "became a cultural phenomenon not because of his strength, but because of his ideals. Stain's philosophy resonated. He embodied something people, both civilians and villains, could latch on to. You on the other hand, have made noise, yes, but noise without harmony."
"So I'm not good enough, because I don't spew nonsense about honour?" Tomura sneered.
"It isn't about honour. It's about the message," Ritsu replied. "Stain's ideology painted him as a necessary evil in a corrupt system. You, are painted as a brat throwing tantrums. That perception is what keeps you from seizing the narrative. The public fear you, but they do not understand you. And fear without understanding breeds resistance, not allegiance."
Tomura's fingers twitched. He stared at the ground, silent, his thoughts rippling like disturbed water. Before he could respond, the rooftops tension fractured.
"Tomuraaaa! We found some goodies!" Toga's sing-song voice broke through the air as she and Twice ascended the stairs. She spun on her heel, blood-streaked knives dangling from her fingers like macabre charms. Twice followed, muttering a contradiction filled monologue about how successful their scavenging had been.
Tomura didn't flinch, if anything, his lips quirked into a feint approximation of a grin. He waved them off, his attention drifting back to Ritsu.
"They're loyal," Ritsu noted, his voice tinged with something almost approaching envy. "Loyalty is a currency worth hoarding, but even that has it's limits."
"You talk like someone who has everything figured out." Tomura replied, the edge returning to his tone. "But where's your loyalty, Ritsu? What do you even want?"
Ritsu met his gaze, unflinching. "A future shaped by intellect, where the chaos is controlled and power serves the mind, not the other way round."
Before Tomura could retort, Toga's high-pitched laughter cut through the air. "Look! Look! Down there!"
The group turned their attention to the streets below. Amid the shadows, a cluster of figures emerged. One recognizable figure was Crust. Another was the younger brother of the Iida family. Next was the son of the number two hero. Some other no names that Tomura wasn't interested in, and a face that made him smile, not with happiness but anger.
Izuku Midoriya.
But instead of flying into a fit of rage, Tomura carried something darker in him and he spoke lowly, almost to himself. "A new idea..."
Tomura pulled something from his pocket. Insurance from his 'Master.'
Ritsu watched him, intrigued. The pieces were shifting again, the maze taking on a new shape. The game's stakes had risen, and Ritsu couldn't help but wonder, was this the moment chaos became calculation?
____The sun hung low on the horizon, it's warm hues bathing the fractured cityscape in fleeting calm. The air was charged with an eerie tension, though Midoriya and his group were unaware of the storm about to engulf them. Luckily for them, they were all able to quickly reconnect with each other after the last rule split them apart, largely thanks to Todoroki as well as Class B's Setsuna Tokage.
"I'm just glad we found each other again." Uraraka said, her voice a buoyant note in the silence. She leaned slightly on her knees, catching her breath, though her smile remained steadfast.
Crust, standing like a shield among them, nodded firmly. "The new rule might have been chaos. But that just means the three days we have together cannot be taken for granted. Now we focus on strategy."
Todoroki glanced at the surroundings with his mismatched eyes. "We need to find a way to communicate since those of us with phone's have no service in this world."
Tetsutetsu's voice rang out with a defiant edge, his steel-coated fists clenched. "Yeah, maybe we find one of the players that already have points and make them add a rule for that."
Midoriya, a little worried, projected confidence. "It's worth looking into. For now though we should continue moving as a group."
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Crust's hand shot up. "Positions! Defensive grid!"
The group snapped into formation without hesitation. Iida's engines flared, and Todoroki's hands shimmered with frost and heat.
They were the first to see it.
In the fading light, a figure moved, no a thing. The grotesque outline of a Nomu, although it wasn't as big as the one they had fought in the USJ. It shambled into view, it's body dripping malice. It's blank eyes stared forward, empty yet somehow unnervingly aware. Behind it, another appeared, this one different. It's leathery wings stretched wide, gleaming blood-red against the sky, it's movements eerily graceful.
"Nomu," Uraraka whispered, her voice shaking.
Midoriya clenched his fists, with the Nomu here, to him that only meant their leader must be here. "Tomura Shigaraki." And he was right, as soon as the name spilled out of his mouth, a figure appeared flickering into the light with deliberate malice.
"Hello heroes." He rasped. "I really didn't expect to see so many UA students here without their little guardians to fall back on."
Crust stepped forward, smashing his shields together to create a overbearing presence to try and scare them back.
"Well, that's fine. I will happily be that replacement for them." He said in a crushing tone.
Crust was a strong hero, Midoriya knew that. He was happy knowing that he was at the front leading them. He was happy to have him by his side in this moment. Not as happy as he would have been with All Might, but he was happy.
The hero was kind and acted as a hero should. He had helped Midoriya with training when he woke earlier than the others, he always made sure to be the last one to fall asleep and make sure that no one would come near them to attack.
Shigaraki's voice cut through again. "Twice, Now!"
With a cackle and exaggerated movements, Twice created more clones, but not of Shigaraki and himself, of the Nomu. The duplicates joined them, the red-winged Nomu letting out a guttural screech as it took to the skies.
"Hold the line!" Crust yelled out, raising his shield like a hand to block an oncoming blow.
Todoroki unleashed a massive wave of ice, the ground trembling beneath it's weight. Frost surged forward, engulfing the nearest Nomu and pinning them in place. His breath fogged in icy air, his face a mask of focus.
But even as the ice crept and the battlefield fractured. The group was being forced apart, each hero drawn to their own desperate fights. Iida darted through the chaos, engines roaring as he tried to reach out to Tetsutetsu, who was locked in a brutal melee.
Midoriya himself was cornered, he had dispatched of three Nomu with a few hits and they had fallen. A nomu loomed over him, it's hulking frame blotting out the light. He lunged forward wit One For All, a resounding
smash cracking it's arm. But before he could press the advantage, the creature melted into a viscous, mud-like substance, dissolving before his eyes.
"What-?" Midoriya's voice faltered as the muck pooled away, revealing two figures standing in it's place. Shigaraki and another man, one who was taller than the former by a leap, he had on
dark clothing with green accents, he wore round glasses that were squidged up to the bridge of his nose.
Shigaraki's lips curled into a sadistic smile. "Surprised?"
The other man stood silently, his hunter eyes fixed on Midoriya. His gaze was devoid of any empathy. After a moment he spoke. "Are you certain about this?"
Shigaraki gave a curt nod. "Do it."
The man's expression didn't change but his eyes began to glow. Midoriya's vision wavered, the world blurring at the edges. He staggered, clutching his head as a dark fog seeped into his consciousness.
"No," Midoriya gasped, he remembered a similar feeling from the sports festival, he believed the vestiges would help him again, but they didn't. His mind slipped into an abyss. The last thing he heard was Uraraka's voice, piercing through the haze.
"Deku!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "DEKU!"
And then silence.
***The man called himself Ritsu Tanigawa. His voice was smooth as silk and deep giving it a more mature tone compared to the other League members Midoriya has met.
"Three trials Midoriya Izuku," he announced, his tone drenched in some untold disdain. "Quick, efficient and clear. Complete them, and then you'll wake. Fail and you will remain here till your death."
Midoriya stood at the edge of the void with his fists clenched. The air was thick and suffocating yet weightless, like the breath of something unseen pressing on his skin.
Before him, a door materialized: black wood veined with green lines.
It had the Kanji sprawled across it for: Hall of mirrors.
The room swallowed him whole, it's walls stretching into infinity. A thousand fractured reflections stared back at him, twisted versions of himself. One bore angry scars of failure. Another had hollow, lifeless eyes, another was cloaked in blood, it's face a mask of guilt. Each one whispered accusations.
Coward. Imposter. Burden.
'Was that me?' he thought to himself.
One reflection stepped forward, it's movements a grotesque parody of his own. It sneered, it's voice dripping venom.
"Yes. I am you. And I know you. You're terrified that they'll all realize you're not good enough. You're terrified they'll realize what you truly are... quirkless, weak, disposable."
Midoriya shook his head violently, but the images closed in, surrounding him, suffocating him. "I'm not that kid anymore... I'm not you." he repeated like it was a lifeline.
And it was true. After he moved to Tokyo he made friends, Iida being his first one, and his best friend. He met All Might, he got his quirk a couple years after, his mom got a better job, she looked happy, he applied to UA and he got in.
"I'm not you."
His fists slammed into the nearest reflection, the glass shattering into light. The fragments exploded outward, each shard dissolving into nothingness. The whispers faded.
Another door appeared.
Midoriya now stood in a vast empty space. Two platforms floated before him, suspended in a void. On one, his friends stood bound and helpless: Uraraka, Todoroki and Iida all tied up and gagged. On the other, a faceless crowd of civilians cried out for his help as fire raged out in front of them.
"Save one group. The other... perishes, no tricks no escape. Choose."
"I can't..." Midoriya's voice faltered. "I can't do that. There has to be another way."
'If only I could move like All Might.'
"Optimism does not save lives. Decisions do. And quick, the clock is ticking."
The platform began to crumble. The civilians screamed. His friends looked at him, their eyes pleading. 'How did they even get caught?' Midoriya didn't want to believe it, but to him, the fact that the class B students or Crust were not here only could have meant that they were still fighting.
"I can't lose them." he whispered as he clenched his hand over his heart.
The options clawed at his chest, ripping him apart. He leaped into action, using One For All to blast forward, trying to save both. But as he reached out, the platforms disintegrated into smoke, leaving only silence.
"No!" He yelled out into nothingness. He looked around him only to see black, a wide space filled with nothing but this dark shade.
"Times up! Seem's you failed them both. Perhaps you should learn limits, Izuku Midoriya."
Again he was somewhere else, but this time it was familiar. He stumbled forward, his boots scraping against cracked pavement. He recognized the place immediately... the alley outside Aldera Junior High. The sharp scent of damp concrete filled the air, and the feint, acrid tang of distant smoke tugged at his senses. The world around him was drenched in an eerie, muted light, like a film perpetually stuck in twilight. Everything looked smaller, more confined, as though the alley itself had shrunken to swallow him whole.
The sound of laughter echoed, sharp and cruel. Midoriya froze, his stomach twisting. He turned to see them: a younger Bakugou, flanked by two lackeys, their grin wide and merciless. His younger self stood before them, shoulders hunched, clutching a charred notebook to his chest. The notebook's edges were blackened and curling, smoke still trailing faintly from it.
"What's wrong Deku?" Bakugou's voice sliced through the air, dripping with mockery. "Gonna cry? Maybe you should've written down a way to grow a spine in one of those stupid books of yours."
The young Midoriya shook his head, clutching the notebook tighter. "I-I just wanted to—"
"Wanted to what?" Bakugou's hand snapped forward, grabbing the notebook and yanking it away. He glanced at it with feigned disinterest before tossing it over his shoulder. It landed in a puddle with a hollow splash. "You'll never be a damn hero. Not in this life."
The memory replayed as if it were freshly unfolding, a vivid and inescapable. Midoriya's fists clenched, his nails biting into his palms. He wanted to yell, to stop it, but his voice felt strangled, his body an unwilling spectator to his own torment.
"Just leave me alone," the younger Midoriya mumbled. The words were feeble, barely audible.
"What was that?" Bakugou leaned closer, his grin turning feral. "You think anyone's gonna save you? You think they'll care about a quirkless nobody like you?"
In the corner, he could see someone standing silently, a senior of the school. He stood there as if he was wondering if he should call for help or not. As if to prove Bakugou right... he left without uttering a word. A silent condemnation.
The scene shifted abruptly, like pages being ripped out of a book and rearranged. Now they were in the school's courtyard. The air was heavy with heat, the sun glaring down mercilessly. Midoriya was on the ground, his uniform singed. Bakugou loomed over him, small sparks crackling at his fingerprints.
"You really don't get it do you?" Bakugou sneered, crouching down to meet Midoriya's teary-eyed gaze. "You're not cut out for this. Just give up."
The younger Midoriya didn't respond. His lips trembled as he struggled to keep the tears at bay. His hands clutched the edges of his burned notebook.
"Better yet," Bakugou's voice dropped, cold and venomous, "why don't you take a swan dive off the roof? Maybe you'll get a quirk in your next life."
The words hit like a physical blow, reverberating through the dreamscape. Midoriya staggered as if the force of them had struck him now. He clutched his chest, struggling to breathe. The memory replayed again and again, Bakugou's cruel words looping like a broken record, each iteration louder and more distorted than the last.
I should have realised it then, that we had stopped being friends a long time ago.
"Stop it," Midoriya whispered, his voice cracking. "Please stop."
But the dream didn't relent. It dragged him forward to the next scene. He stood on the roof of Aldera Junior High, the city stretching endlessly around him. The younger Midoriya was there, his back to him, standing perilously close to the edge.
His uniform was scorched, and his notebook was clutched tightly in his trembling hands. Tears streaked his dirt-smudged face, his lips moving silently, mouthing words that never reached the air.
Midoriya wanted to call out, to stop himself from taking that step. But his body wouldn't obey. He watched in helpless agony as the younger version of himself climbed onto the ledge. The wind tugged his hair, his too big shoes slipping slightly against the concrete.
"All I wanted," the younger Midoriya whispered, his voice raw and broken, "was to be a hero. I thought we'd be heroes together Kacchan. I though..." His voice cracked, the words dissolving into quiet sobs.
Midoriya's heart shattered. He could feel every ounce of despair that had consumed him in that moment, the weight of years of rejection, ridicule, and loneliness pressing down like a vice.
The younger him took a step forward. The world seemed slow, each movement dragging like a film reel caught in molasses. His foot hovered over the empty air, and for a terrible, heart-stopping moment, it looked as though he would fall.
But then the world went black.
When Midoriya woke up, the transition was jarring. Bright, sterile light flooded his vision, and the hum of machinery buzzed faintly in his ears. He blinked, disoriented, his mind struggling to piece together where he was. The scent of antiseptic and clean linen grounded him: a hospital.
"Deku!"
The voice cracked with emotion, and when he turned his head, he saw Uraraka sitting by his bedside. Her face was pale, streaked with tears that she made no effort to wipe away. Her hands clutched his with a desperate intensity, as though afraid he might disappear if she let go.
"You're awake," She said, her voice trembling.
Midoriya's throat felt dry, his voice hoarse as he spoke. "What... happened?"
"After the League left, you went unconscious and have been for the last day." She explained as her grip on his hand grew tighter.
The memories of everything came rushing in, like a tidal wave. The nightmares echoed. He squeezed his eyes shut. Every insult, every sneer, every shove Bakugou delivered, every time he'd been told he was nothing without a quirk... it had carved into him, reshaping his spirit in ways he hadn't understood until now.
That version of him had been broken, fractured beyond recognition, a boy who didn't see a future.
But that wasn't him anymore.
The air felt lighter now, even in the antiseptic room. His mind had whispered to him that the boy on the roof had died that day, and maybe... that was okay. Maybe that's what had to happen for him to be reborn. He wasn't the quirkless child anymore, he wasn't the victim.
He was a flame rekindled, burning brighter for all the times it had nearly been snuffed out.
You're still here. You survived.
Midoriya let out a shaky breath. He wiped at his eyes, his hand trembling as it brushed away tears. The ache in his chest lingered, but it felt like a reminder now, a scar that proved he had endured.
"You really scared us you know." She admitted. "I thought we lost you."
"I thought so too," Midoriya murmured. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the worry etched into her features. He swallowed hard, guilt and gratitude swirling in his chest.
Uraraka's eyes softened. "Are you really okay? I mean... really okay?"
Midoriya hesitated. The easy answer would have been to nod, to reassure her that everything was fine. But he wasn't the same boy who masked all his pain and scars with smiles and apologies.
"No," he said firmly. "But I will be. I... I've been holding onto a lot for a long time. Things I never wanted to face. But now... I think I'm ready to let go."
Uraraka tilted her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "Let go?"
Midoriya's gaze drifted to the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. "The past. All the hurt, all the things I let define me." He explained. "I want to grow, and keep getting better, be the best hero there is, even better than All Might. And become: Champion."
He had decided. He didn't think that it would be in such a setting but Midoriya had finally found out his hero name.
Her expression softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. "That sounds like you. Always moving forward and doing his best. And good name by the way. "
"Thanks." He chuckled weakly, the sound raw but genuine. "It's all I know how to do."
The silence between them stretched, not uncomfortable but contemplative. Then, her Uraraka's fingers fidgeted with the glove in her hands. She glanced at him, her cheeks tinged with a blush. "Can I... can I ask you something?"
Midoriya blinked and nodded slowly. "Of course."
She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the fabric. "Can I call you Izuku?"
The question caught him off guard. For a moment, he stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. She wasn't just asking to use his name. She was acknowledging the real him, not the nickname that was used by his bullies in the past that she just found 'cute'.
She was acknowledging who he was becoming.
A small genuine smile stretched across his face. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'd like that."
Uraraka's face lit up with a mixture of warmth and relief. "Thank you Izuku." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before either of them could say more, the door opened. A nurse, one of the few in the game, came in. Her expression was grim.
"Excuse me," she said, "Crust is in the next room. His condition has worsened."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The fluorescent lights hummed above softly. Ochaco Uraraka sat on the edge of a plastic chair, her fingers tightly interlocked, the tips pressing into her palms. Her heart pounded as if trying to escape her chest.
They just had to rush Crust as well as Midoriya to the emergency room, they didn't expect for there to be any actual medical staff around, but they got lucky and were grateful that there were some.
On Crust, there had been so much blood.
Her thoughts were cycling through hope and dread. "They're strong," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "Midoriya is strong. Crust is the shield hero. He'll be okay."
She bit her lip, willing to stay composed. The uncertainty gnawed at her, a relentless ache in her chest. The league had vanished. And now she felt so powerless to do anything but wait.
"Hey," a voice broke the silence, drawing her attention. She turned to see a lanky boy with a slight smirk on his face. His neck stretched slightly in jest as he craned his neck toward her. He plopped into the seat beside her with a casual air, his long neck bobbing slightly as he leaned closer.
"You're here for that green haired guy right?" he asked, his tone light and conversational. "I saw them bring him in. I thought I recognized him. Izuku Midoriya. Man. I can't believe he's actually a hero now."
Uraraka frowned but didn't respond, unsure of what was going on. The boy's grin widened, clearly taking her silence as an invitation to continue.
"I knew him back in junior high, Aldera." he said, puffing his chest out slightly as if that piece of information was somehow impressive. "He was... well, lets say, he wasn't exactly hero material back then. Dude didn't even have a quirk, you know? Quirkless and still tryna play hero. It was pathetic."
Uraraka's fingers tightened around the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles turning white. The boy didn't notice.
"We used to call him Deku," he went on laughing softly. "cause he was useless." he chuckled again, his head bobbing as he laughed. "Man, Bakugou and our group of friends used to give him so much crap. We even told him he should just... you know," he showed off with his hands by putting his fingers in gun motion and putting them in his mouth and tilting his head back as the shooting effect followed. "...we didn't really mean it of course. He was just so... ugh, you know? Always trying so hard for no reason."
Uraraka's chest tightened, and she fought the sting of tears threatening to spill over. Her nails dug into her palms, the pain grounding her as she listened to this strangers cruelty. The boy leaned back, clearly pleased with himself as he continued his rambling.
"...there was also that kid Kobe from elementary... Midoriya sure knew how to attract a crowd."
Uraraka dismissed what he was saying.
The clear wickedness couldn't just be chalked down to childhood cruelty. His smirk, his nonchalant tone, his utter lack of awareness, it all boiled over into a storm of anger and sorrow. She stood abruptly, the legs of her chair scraping loudly against the floor. The boy blinked up at her, startled.
"What's your problem?" he asked her, his tone defensive now.
Uraraka's voice trembled as she finally spoke, her words cutting through the air like a blade. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you realize what you're saying? You think this is funny? Impressive? That bullying someone to the point of telling them to take their own life is some kind of achievement?"
The boys mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Uraraka's eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall... not yet.
"You're sitting here mocking him, calling him useless, but do you even understand what he's done? Everything he has sacrificed to make it to this point. Midoriya is more of a hero, more of a man, than you could ever hope to be. And all you are is a bully with nothing to offer but cruelty."
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she turned away, her footsteps echoing as she stormed out of the waiting area. The boy sat frozen, his elongated neck retracting slightly as he processed her words.
Tears streamed down her face as she walked, her vision blurred. She couldn't stop thinking about Midoriya, about the weight he carried, the kindness he still showed despite everything. And then there was Bakugou. The thought of him being a part of this, of him contributing to the pain Midoriya had endured... it twisted her heart into knots.
It wasn't even that surprising considering the type of person he has shown himself to be since school had started, as well as his one sided anger towards Midoriya.
And who was Kobe? What type of role did he play? Is he a hero student?
If not then he was just another bully like the other guy and could be left in the past to be forgotten. But Bakugou, he was striving to be a hero, or at least supposed to. But no hero would ever act like that.
She wiped her eyes furiously, a new resolve forming in her chest. She'd talk to Midoriya when he woke up. She'd stop calling him Deku, not if it came from a place of pain. He deserved to be called by his real name, the name of a hero. Izuku Midoriya.
***The announcement of Crust's death hit like a thunderclap.
No one spoke. No one moved. The weight of those words pressed down on them all, suffocating.
Crust, the shield hero, was dead.
Ochaco's breath hitched, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle a cry that still clawed it's way out. It was soft and broken, but it reverberated in the silence. Beside her Iida stood stone still, his hands clenched tightly on his knees, the sharp angles of his jawline taut with tension. A lump formed in his throat, but his training, his discipline kept him from breaking.
Todoroki stared at the floor, his heterochromatic eyes duller than usual. His hand flexed at his side, unconscious tick, but his expression betrayed betrayed little, save for the feint tremor of his lips.
The rest of the room, all looked solemn. He was the only adult with them, a hero who could continue guiding them in place of their teacher's who were not with them in this moment. The silence was fragile.
Midoriya stood in the center of the room, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He hadn't said a word since the announcement. He'd barely moved. Bloodshot eyes stared at the ground beneath him, the shadows from his messy green hair obscuring most of his face. The boy who once overflowed with boundless optimism now looked like a storm barely held back by a paper-thin dam.
Finally, he spoke in a steady and firm tone. "Crust gave his life to protect people. He died... a hero."
He looked up, his emerald eyes blazing with something raw and unrelenting. "We don't have time to grieve properly. Not here. Not now." His gaze swept across the room, meeting each of theirs in turn. Uraraka's teary eyes. Iida and Tetsutetsu's rigid resolve. Todoroki's quiet fury and Tokage's guarded pain. "But we will remember him. We will carry his sacrifice with us. And we'll make it mean something."
His voice grew firmer, though it trembled with barely contained emotion. "I'm not going to let his death, or anyone's death, be for nothing. I'll do whatever it takes to get us out of here. To make sure no one else has to die. I swear it."
The room was silent again, but this time, it felt different. The weight was still there, but it was tempered by the resolve in Midoriya's words. His promise hung in the air, binding them all together in their shared pain and determination.
Then the silence was broken by an all too familiar sound: the sickeningly cheery chime of the Bug.
A mechanical voice crackled out the unseen speakers. It's tone light.
"{Congratulations, participants! One of the three legendary artifacts has been found and secured in it's rightful place. The founder's torch burns brightly once more. Keep up the good work.}"
The announcement ended with a distorted trill of amusement, and the room seemed to shift in tone if only slightly. Only two left and then they could go home.
They exchanged glances, but there was no arguing with words. Crust's death was proof that this game would take everything from them if they let it.
It was their turn to pull their weight and start playing.
Uraraka wiped her face, her cheeks still glistening but her eyes more resolute. "Izuku..." she began, her voice soft but firm. "We'll get through this. Together. All of us."
He looked at her, something in his hardened gaze softened just for a moment. He nodded.
"Together." he agreed. The weight of leadership clearly bore down on him.
That was fine. Whatever it took, he would keep them alive. He would carry them through this nightmare.
____I didn't expect to be talking about Yuki.
Kodai and I had been walking in silence. She was a quiet companion, the type that seemed content to let thoughts fill the air where words would have gone. I was fine with that. But as we rounded the corner and the light of a crescent moon painted her face, I found myself speaking before I even realized what I was saying.
"I have a sister. Her name's Yuki. She's a third year in the hero course at UA."
Kodai glanced at me, her eyebrows lifting slightly. I had only realized that I have thought of her a lot less than I thought I would have.
"Oh?" she prompted. "What's she like?"
I shrugged, tugging at the loose thread on my sleeve. "Driven, I guess. Quiet and real... intense." I didn't really know what to say about her, I tried to give off a loose smile but it just felt hollow.
Kodai nodded, though she remained silent, waiting for me to continue. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. I felt like every word I said had to matter somewhat as she listened. It was unnerving but also slightly unnerving.
"We... we don't talk much these days," I admitted, my gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don't think it's her fault, but I also wouldn't say it's mine. I don't know. I don't really think it even matters anymore."
Kodai raised an eyebrow, but still, said nothing. The weight of her silence pressed on me, pulling words out of me I wasn't sure I wanted to say.
"I think she's the perfect kid. Always had straight A's. Strong quirk, on the path to being a top hero. And me" I gave a bitter laugh. "Well I was never dumb or anything like that. I was just less ambitious, less caring and maybe even less human."
"You don't seem any less to me," Kodai said softly. Her voice was steady, but there was something in her tone that was forcing itself past my defenses.
I shook my head, "This was back then, I was different." My words trailed off as memories clawed their way to the surface. I shoved them back to where they belong.
"What about your parents?"
"Not much there either, dad's dead," Kodai flinched slightly. "and mom, well she's alright I guess, I haven't seen much of her though."
"Family's complicated." she said finally.
"Yeah complicated."
We walked in silence for a while after that. The air grew colder as the sun dipped below the horizon, and I could see Kodai wrap her arms around herself, trying to ward off the growing chill. A chill that hadn't been as present in the last few days.
Two figures stood in the distance, silhouetted against the faint glow of the moonlight. One was tall and broad-shouldered, his stance was casual yet exuding authority. The other was shorter and thinner, covered in a big sky blue coloured coat with the hood pulled up, you couldn't see his face since it was darkened by the hoods shadow.
"Well, well." the taller man spoke, his face was obscured by a mask. "Look, the one's who found the founder's torch. Congratulations are in order."
Kodai and I exchanged a wary glance. I stepped forward, keeping my posture neutral but ready. "How did you know? Who told you?" It couldn't have been Stain, but I was sure we weren't being followed.
The man chuckled. "Names are such fragile things. But I should introduce myself. My name is Trumpet." He gestured to the smaller figure at his side. "And this is my associate, Geten."
Geten said nothing, even though we couldn't see his face, we could see his cold eyes sweeping under us like we were insects beneath his notice.
"Trumpet?" I said, narrowing my eyes. "Does that make you a hero, a villain, or something in between?"
Trumpet laughed again. "Labels. Another fragile concept of society to determine good or bad, the in between doesn't count. But if you must know, I'm simply a man who believes in freedom. True freedom. The kind that comes when everyone is allowed to use their meta-abilities as they see fit."
Kodai frowned, "Meta abilities? That's... not what they're called anymore. Only the old army of Destro called them that."
Trumpets mask lit up where I assumed the eyes were supposed to be. "Sharp. Very
sharp. And you're correct. Nowadays people do call them quirks. But words have power don't they? They shape how we see the world. Quirks imply something odd, something abnormal. But meta ability? That's a term of empowerment."
Kodai crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "Sounds like propaganda to me."
Trumpet's tone didn't waver. "Propaganda, truth... two sides of the same coin. All I'm saying is that if society truly embraced meta abilities, a lot more people would understand their worth, and wouldn't have to be chasing the same dream to show it."
He turned to me. "Tell me Soryu..." oh, so he already knew who I was. "How many times have you been judged not for who you are, but what you can do?"
I guess the potential the Eden Project saw in me would count but...
"I'm not really interested in your politics or philosophy. We are just doing out best to survive in this game."
I still didn't know if this confrontation would turn to a fight or not.
"Survival is the first step," Trumpet said, his tone almost pitying. "But freedom? That is the ultimate goal."
Geten finally spoke, his voice was as cold as his demeanour. "You waste your breath on them. They're not worth it."
Trumpet waved a hand dismissively. "Perhaps. But it's always worth planting a seed," he stepped back, his posture relaxed but watchful. "We'll be seeing you two again. Hopefully."
With that he and Geten walked away, their figures disappearing into the darkness. Kodai and I stood there for a long moment, the weight of the encounter settling over us.
"That was weird." Kodai said.
"Yeah," I agreed, my mind racing. "Let's find shelter."
Kodai nodded, and we set off again, the night swallowing us whole.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The head of the hero commission was an older woman named Rika Amamiya.
And right now, she sat alone in her office, the faint glow of the monitors casting long shadows across the room. It was late, far past the time any reasonable person would be working, but sleep had eluded her for days. She folded her hands in front of her, her sharp blue eyes scanning the reports displayed on the central screen.
The game orchestrated by Daigo Kiyoshi, Proxy, had plunged the nation into chaos. Over the past week, nearly every corner of hero society had been shaken to it's core. Hundreds, no thousands of prisoners had vanished without a trace, their locations confirmed only when their faces appeared on the broadcasted footage of the game world.
Among them were some of the most dangerous individuals the system had ever locked away. Heroes too, were missing and worse yet, students. Bright, promising children from hero academies all over the country had been dragged into this nightmare.
The calls from frantic parents haunted her. Voices cracked with fear, some shouting accusations while others wept for answers she couldn't provide. She leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the latest statistics. Several hero schools, overwhelmed by the backlash, had started to suspend operations entirely.
UA, the pinnacle of hero education, was not immune. Public outcry was mounting as parents demanded to pull their children out. The idea of even merging hero schools was already being whispered in meetings. Even if every child returned unharmed, the current system might collapse under the weight of public distrust.
But that wasn't their immediate concern.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before pulling up the next file. The footage played on the central monitor, Lady Nagant. Once a trusted hero and HPSC operative, Nagant's fall from grace had been swift and merciless, and her presence easily replaceable by the rising prospect in Hawks.
Rika knew the charges against her were fabricated, but the web of corruption in the commission's past had obscured the truth. Now, there she was, an unwitting player in a twisted game, dispatching a Nomu. Her skills, honed by the HPSC, had not dulled in prison.
Rika did want to find a way to help her, but she couldn't. Due to the rules in place she couldn't even interfere on things set in place before her instatement. Unless it was still ongoing, Nagant was a lost cause made to serve time she didn't really deserve.
The Nomu problem though. Rika had seen that it was the work of the villain Twice. He was able to clone them, not a small amount, probably even more than what was reported in Hosu before people were teleported into the game. The league had an audience for their atrocities. She clenched her jaw, disgusted by the spectacle.
It was all too much to process, the disappearances, the growing public unrest, the whispers of treachery within her own ranks. She confirmed that the HPSC was complicit in facilitating the game. Uniforms, support gear, and other items tagged for transportation had passed through her organizations hands. She had signed off on some of these approvals herself, unknowingly providing Kiyoshi the tools he needed.
Her intercom buzzed. "Hawks is here," her assistant's voice announced.
"Send him in." Rika replied, her voice steady despite hurricane inside her.
The door opened, and Hawks stepped in, his usual easygoing demeanour replaced by a grim determination. He closed the door behind him, his wings folded tightly against his back.
"President," he greeted, his voice subdued. "this situation is spiralling. I've been running myself ragged trying to chase down leads, but this thing... it's bigger than anything that's been dealt with before."
"Sit," she instructed, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk.
Hawks complied, his golden eyes locking onto hers. "What's the latest?"
She sighed and turned one of the monitors towards him. "Some smaller schools are shutting down. Parents are demanding answers we can't give. But that is the least of our concerns."
She pulled up a chart. "This is the list of prisoners confirmed to be in the game. Among them are multiple high-threat individuals, Abyss, Seraph, Bloodmoon... and Lady Nagant."
Hawks leaned forward, his expression darkening. "Surprised that she's still alive."
"Not just alive," Rika admitted. "Now she's fighting a death game and stacking up points. She's still the operative she was trained to be."
Hawks watched in silence for a moment, his mood a little downcast but he done a good job at hiding it. "She was wronged." he said quietly. "We both know that."
"I know. And now she's fighting in a survival game partly orchestrated by the very system that betrayed her. The irony isn't lost on me."
"What's our move?" Hawks asked.
"We uproot the system," the chairman said firmly. "I've already started an internal investigation. Many members of the HPSC had to be complicit for this to happen. Prison uniforms, hero support gear, even materials for clothing stores... these things don't move without approval from high-level officials. I need you to help me identify every last one of them. When the time comes, they will face justice."
Hawks nodded. "You can count on me. But what about Daigo Kiyoshi? He's the puppet master here."
"Finding him is still your top priority," Rika confirmed. "He's the key to everything that has been set in place. Use any resources you need. Bringing him in will allow us to start unravelling everything."
Hawks sat back, his wings, twitching slightly. "The country's on edge. The lockdowns, the disappearances, the broadcasts... people are starting to panic. We're one step away from anarchy."
"I know." Rika said, her voice heavy. "But we can't afford to act recklessly. Every decision we make now will define hero society for years to come. This isn't just about stopping Kiyoshi. It's about restoring trust."
Hawks leaned forward, his eyes blazing with determination. "I'll find him. I swear it. No matter what it takes."
Rika nodded. "Good. Because if we don't, everything we've built, everything we stand for... will crumble."
____Day three, after the last rule has been added. So Kodai and I will be separated. The thought rattled in my mind like loose change in a tin can. But that's fine, I gave her that paper bracelet that I can trace.
"What's the plan?" Kodai asked."Keep moving, until we find some of your classmates maybe. That and keep an eye out for those artifacts we need to get out of here." We would also need to change our points, but we can just transfer them now. So that's okay. "And don't die."
She shot me a look, half amused, half exasperated. "You're a real optimist, you know that."
"It's part of my charm."
Kodai decided against staying in establishments like a hotels or even houses since there was a chance that normal civilians would be doing so and we may bring unwanted attention. So instead we had woken up in a bakery this morning, the air thick with the scent of flour.
"You hear that?" she whispered,
I tilted my head, listening. The quiet morning air carried faint murmurs, the kind that made your gut tighten in anticipation. I nodded toward the door. Kodai moved silently as she approached.
A group of teenagers all huddled together in the shadow of a leaning billboard. Considering the fact that they still had uniforms on, they were all school students, ones from different schools too, the only uniforms I recognized were the UA one's.
Navy, burgundy, white. All a mismatched collage of schools. But none of them were fighters. They were wide eyed students caught in a nightmare. Some holding anything in their hands like a weapon, like steel pipes, mops and sticks.
There were weird creatures roaming around recently that kodai and I ran into on our way to the bakery, she called them Nomu. I recognized the name from the reports leaked from the attack on the USJ.
One of them, a boy with glasses too large for his face, spotted us first. He froze, his grip tightening on the mop handle. "Hey!" he called out, his voice cracking.
The others turned towards us, their expressions shifting from fear to tentative relief. A girl stepped forward, her braids swaying as she moved. She wore a UA uniform, her gaze flickered between Kodai and me, cautious but hopeful.
"Are you heroes?" she asked, her voice steady but there was a tremor in her hands.
I glanced at Kodai, who gave me a small nod. "Not exactly," I said. "But we're not villains either. Are you guys okay?"
The girl exhaled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "As okay as we can be. We've been hiding anywhere we could since this whole thing started. Some of us got separated but more people joined. We're not players so we don't have to get involved in the madness, but, we're still just free points."
I scanned the group. No obvious quirks that would make them capable of for defense. They were lucky to have made it this far.
"Alright. We should stay here..." Kodai clapped her hands to bring attention to her. "This place is too exposed."
"We know a place." I added. "A hotel a few blocks down. It's not perfect, but it will give us some cover."
The group exchanged glances. Their fear was tangible, hanging in the air like smoke.
"You're safe with us," Kodai reassured. "We'll get you there."
The girl hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Lead the way."
_____Broken glass glinted in the fading light, and the distant sound behind me of shifting debris kept my nerves taut. The students stayed close, their footsteps timid against the pavement. Kodai walked beside them, her presence a steady anchor.
A boy who says he's from Seijin Academy sidled up to me, his hand clutching a wrench like a lifeline. "Are you guys heroes in training?"
"Something like that." I replied, keeping my eyes on the road ahead.
"That's cool," he said, a faint smile breaking through his fear. "I wanted to be a support engineer, build hero gear. But I can't really do anything here."
"Don't sell yourself short." I said. "Half the battles having the right tools, you'll have your time to shine."
He nodded, his expression softening. It wasn't much, but in a place like this I learned that even small reassurances mattered.
The hotel came into view, a hulking shadow against the light. Kodai signalled for the group to wait as she approached the entrance where she met a duo that had already been there. And from what I could here, were there with a bunch of other civilians already.
Inside the lobby was quiet. Kodai moved with the group through the space like a veteran. She checked every corner, testing the stability of the staircase.
"Thank you for letting the stay here." she thanked the tall girl that was a mutant of some kind of giraffe.
They were then led inside, guided to the upper floors. The students spread, relief palpable as they sank onto the dusty beds and chairs.
Good. They looked more comfortable now, happy even.
"Stay here," Kodai instructed. "Stick together. Don't open the doors unless you hear voices of people you know."
"What about you?" The girl with the braids asked.
"We can't stay for long," I said. "There are things we need to find so we can leave this place already."
The girl nodded, her gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you."
_____It was warm, and the sun cast a golden glow over the streets. The air was still, the kind of stillness that made everything feel fragile. Despite everything, the light felt almost mocking, it's brightness stark against the shadows lingering in my mind.
For a while, we walked in silence, our steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. The quiet wasn't uncomfortable. The occasional whisper of wind stirred the dust and debris, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and decay. Overhead, the sky stretched endlessly, it's pale blue unmarred by clouds, as if nature itself refused to acknowledge the chaos below.
"You're good with people," Kodai said suddenly, her voice snapped through the quiet like a gentle pluck of string.
I snorted, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. "Not really. I just say what I feel they need to hear."
She tilted her head, a small smile tugging her lips. "That's a talent in itself."
I didn't answer, letting her words flow. Talent? Maybe. But I have a talent for many things. So maybe it was just a talent to keep people at an arms length. We kept walking, the echoes of our footsteps mingling with the distant sounds of the city, a car alarm blaring somewhere far off, the occasional creak of a building.
My gaze drifted to Kodai, who walked a step ahead of me. Her posture was steady, her movements deliberate, but there was a tension in her shoulders, a weariness that mirrored my own.
"Kobe." She said suddenly, her voice was soft, almost hesitant. I don't know if this is the first time she's called out my given name.
I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She hesitated, her pace slowing as she turned to face me. Her eyes, usually so guarded, held a glimmer of vulnerability. "Call me Yui."
The words caught me off guard. For a moment, I didn't know what to say. "Yui?" I repeated, testing the name on my tongue.
She nodded, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "Yeah. You've earned the right."
I smiled at that. Something in my chest tightened, a sensation I couldn't quite name. "Alright," I said finally. "Yui."
Her smile was different then. It was warm. For a fleeting second, the weight of the game, the fear of uncertainty, seemed to lift. It was as though, in that moment, we were just two people walking through a city, untethered by the misery and fear surrounding us.
We reached a small ledge where the ground had split, jagged concrete forming a barrier between us and the main road. I climbed ahead. I looked back down at Yui, the sunlight caught her hair, turning it into a halo of gold. I watched for a moment, something in my chest tightening again.
"You gonna help, or just stand there?" she called, glancing up at me with a teasing grin.
I shook my head, a smirk tugging at my lips as I stepped forward. "Alright, princess, hold on."
Reaching out, I offered my hand. Her fingers brushed mine, warm and steady, and after a second, the world felt grounded, as though all the chaos and noise had been stripped away.
~Choom~
A sound, sharp, high pitched, like the whine of a mosquito amplified a thousand times, cut through the air. My instincts screamed at me, but I wasn't fast enough. The moment her fingers clasped mine, her body jerked violently, her grip faltering as she stumbled backward.
"Yui!"
Time fractured. The sun seemed to dim, the light bleeding out of the world as my focus now narrowed to her. She crumpled to the ground, her legs giving out beneath her. It was only then I saw it: the dark, wet stain spreading across her chest, a perfect circle of crimson blooming against the fabric of her shirt.
"No." The word escaped me in a whisper, barely audible over the roaring in my ears. "No, no, no."
I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands trembling as I pressed them against the wound. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm and slick, staining my palms. Her eyes fluttered open, wide and glassy, and for a moment, they locked onto mine. There was fear in them, yes, but something else too. Something fragile and fleeting, like the last light of a dying star.
"Keep your eyes open." I pleaded. "Stay with me.... Yui..."
But her hand... Yui's hand, trembling reached for mine. Her fingers brushed my palm, sticky with her own blood, before clutching it as tightly as she could manage. It wasn't much, a faint squeeze, but it felt like the weight of the world.
Her lips moved, a soft, broken sound escaping. "I... don't... want to die..." Her voice was a small, barely a whisper, but the words struck like thunder, each syllable slicing through me.
"You're not going to die." I said, though the lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Paper formed instinctively, wrapping over the wound, desperate to stitch and absorb the blood, but it wasn't enough. The hole was too wide, the damage too deep. The paper crumbled against the tide of crimson, falling like everything else.
"I'm sorry..." she choked, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her voice cracked as she fought to stay conscious, her body trembling beneath my hands. "I'm sorry..."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I said, my voice trembling, though I wasn't sure if she could hear me anymore. Her grip on my hand weakened, the pressure fading like sand slipping through my fingers.
Her lips moved again, shaping a final word, but no sound came out. I leaned closer, desperate to hear her, to catch whatever she was trying to say. She mouthed it again, her gaze locked on mine.
"Yui..." my throat closed around her name as her head fell limp to the side. Her eyes stared up at me, wide and unseeing.
The laugh that followed was low and guttural, dripping with malice. It cut through the air like a blade, shattering the fragile silence that had settled over us.
I looked up, my vision blurred by tears and the haze of rage building up in my chest. High above, perched on a swirling cloud was Abyss. His silhouette loomed grotesquely against the bright blue sky, a cruel parody of a God surveying his creation. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, his teeth glinting like shards of broken glass.
Beside him another figure, a boy, no older than me, with an air of clumsiness and ignorance that made my blood boil.They had killed her.
My mind spiralled, every thought and emotion tangling in a storm of grief and fury. Yui's blood still coated my hands, warm and sticky, as though it were trying to anchor me to the reality of her death. But I couldn't stay grounded. My chest burned, the heat rising like a tidal wave that threatened to consume me.
"You..." The word tore from my throat, venomous as I stood. My body moved without thought.
The sky blindingly bright as I propelled myself upward, the wind tearing at my face. My fist clenched, my quirk activating almost reflexively as paper burst around me like wings of destruction. Each beat of my heart echoed in my ears, a war drum driving me forward.
But then light came.
It was sudden and all-consuming, a blinding radiance that swallowed the world whole. My body was yanked back, the sensation of teleportation wrenching me from the sky and away from Yui's lifeless form.
"No!" I roared, thrashing against the pull.
The world had already shifted. The memory of her face, the light fading from her eyes, the blood soaking her shirt, seared itself into my mind like a brand. Her last words, unheard and unfinished, echoed in the silence of my thoughts, haunting me as the light finally took me.
YUI.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Why didn't we get teleported like we were supposed to?" Kazuki blurted out, his voice tinged with frustration as if the entire game didn't already weigh on his mind.
Abyss turned his massive shark head slowly, Kazuki still can't believe he got cornered by someone even the number two struggled to beat. "Ah, that answer is one I am quite eager to explain." His lips curled into a faint, cryptic smile. "I spent one hundred of my points to ensure that our positions remained unchanged. The game is an intricate thing, is it not? And in such intricacy, there lies beauty." He took a step forward. "I am not like the other's Kazuki. And I have had an interest in that boy since the first day, Kobe Arakawa—Soryu. He will return for that dead body over there." His voice dropped, turning from poetic reverie to a chilling silence.
"And when he does, I will be here waiting to pounce and devour my prey."
Kazuki's thoughts began to whirl. He shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Abyss's words pressing on him like a fog. That boy. Kobe. Kazuki didn't know him, but he already had a sense he would rather stay as far away from him as possible. This whole game, this whole mess—it was beyond anything Kazuki could have imagined.
As Abyss continued to speak, Kazuki's thoughts began to wander back to the choices that had led him here, tangled in this game with the likes of an Abyss. A high school dropout, that's what he was, a failure in his own eyes. No diploma, no future, just drifting from one bad situation to another. He was always getting involved with the wrong people. Always, always, always.
Kazuki let out a sharp, almost bitter laugh as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, you and your poetic nonsense. You're all the same. Just another freak that thinks he's the center of everything, really, you're just a damn... mess." His gaze flickered to the ground. "And I bet my dumb old man will still blame me for this somehow."
His shoulder's sagged, a quiet resignation spreading through him. He didn't want to think about the wrong turns, the bad people. It was too late for that. Besides, if he thought about it too much he'd have to face the truth at some point that he had made the choice to walk this path.
But not now. Not while Abyss was standing in front of him, so calm... so... controlled. A man of intellect, his eyes reflecting a mind that was calculating, always calculating.
Abyss, hearing Kazuki's words let out a small, knowing laugh, his voice a low, sonorous hum. "You think so little of yourself Kazuki. It is both a blessing and a curse. You see, when the world seems beyond your grasp, you can still remain untouched by it, free from responsibility. Yet in that same breath, you are bound to it, like a puppet to it's strings, caught in the motions of fate."
Kazuki looked up at Abyss, irritation flickering in his chest. "I'm no puppet. I'm not like you. You're just... the worst of the worst."
Abyss's smile widened, an amused glint flashing in his eyes. "Am I? Or do you simply not understand yet? How far beneath me you are, how much deeper the game of life goes than you could imagine."
Kazuki clenched his fists. He wanted to rage out against the shark. But he wasn't that crazy, he wasn't that strong. If Abyss felt like it, he could twist Kazuki's head off with very little effort, and then he would just crunch down on his corpse.
Without warning, something flickered in the air. Kazuki's breath caught as he saw it: paper wings. All rushing in their direction, so fast that he could barely follow them with his eyes. They fluttered in the air, their speed making it impossible to track their precise movement.
Kazuki's eyes widened. What the hell?
He didn't get much time to think about it. Abyss let out a low chuckle, almost as if the unfolding scene was some sort of beautiful poem and he wanted to flow with the ink on it's page. "Now Kazuki. The wings of fate arrive."
Abyss leaped into to the air with a blur of motion leaving a gust of wind in his trail from the cloud he was on that Kazuki had provided.
His laughter rang out, full of exhilaration.
"Come Kazuki. The game is far from over."
____The air around me roared with the flurry of paper darting forward in endless arcs. They carried sharpness that wasn't just physical but emotional. Each fold was imbued with the fury of Yui's lifeless body, the weight of my failures, and the purpose I had to see this fight to it's end.
Ahead, perched on a conjured cloud, Abyss laughed. His shark-like grin split wide, teeth glinting even in the overcast light of the battlefield. Beside him, that same boy, Kazuiki, Abyss called him, he fumbled.
His hands trembled as he summoned more clouds to hover between us. Abyss in stark contrast was calm, but he struggled to keep his excitement at bay.
"Now Kazuki," Abyss spoke, his voice deep, and carrying even above the sound of the winds I had created. "the wings of fate arrive."
Without waiting for a response, Abyss launched himself into the air, the cloud beneath him exploding into vapor from the sheer force of his movement. He moved with deadly elegance, a blur of water and muscle that radiated power. My wings pushed me forward, aiming to intercept him, but he spun through them with terrifying ease, his massive hands swatted away the sharp edged paper like it was nothing more than a nuisance.
I wasn't surprised. I was furious.
I followed, sending more paper blades streaking toward him. Each one folded mid-flight, twisting into new, unpredictable shapes. He caught a few, the water around him forming a shield that dissolved my attacks upon contact. But I wasn't aiming to hit him yet, I was testing him, learning the rhythm of his movements.
Kazuki hovered awkwardly nearby, his feet shifting nervously on a newly formed cloud. I turned my attention to him briefly, sending a couple paper knives his way. He yelped, throwing a thicker cloud up to block it. The knives sliced through with ease.
The knives sliced both of his ears, not off just leaving a deep shallow gasp.
Abyss, seeing this let out a booming laughter. "Come on now Kobe Arakawa." he said, calling out my name for the first time. "The boy is but a leaf caught in a tempest. You wouldn't pluck it would you?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't afford to. My focus shifted back to Abyss. And just in time. He thrust his arm forward, sending a geyser of water hurtling toward me. I darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the torrent, but the residual spray hit me like shrapnel, each droplet carrying enough force to bruise.
"Good," Abyss said, his voice rich with satisfaction. "You're not dull. Show me more."
I gritted my teeth, my hands moving instinctively as I summoned another barrage of sharp paper feathers. This time they split into two groups, attacking him from opposite sides. Abyss's grin widened, and with a sweep of his arm, he conjured a vortex of water that swallowed them whole.
"He's a monster," I muttered under my breath, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. I sent out another attack twisting into the shape of spears aimed for his blind spots. Once again, they dissolved before they could land. It was like trying to cut through steel with air.
Then I seen him do something strange. A flicker of water formed in the air in front of his hands, it formed to a little circular lens. My mind raced and quickly put together what he was planning to do.
'Reflect light.'
I dropped the wings and in place left a paper clone of me, he took his eyes off me for a second which allowed for the attack to be directed at the fragile clone. Abyss's eyes lit up, and with a flick of his wrist, he formed a sphere of water in front him.
The sunlight bent through it, intensifying into a blinding ray that shot forward with impossible speeds. I dodged it by a hair, and the clone disintegrated.
Light-speed attacks. He wasn't just a predator. He was trying to match death itself.
"That's how Yui..." My voice trailed off as the realization hit me. The attack—the one that had killed Yui—it was a weaponized beam of light. Magnified and directed with lethal precision. My heart pounded as I tried to formulate a plan.
"Show me your fire!" Abyss called out.
I didn't respond, instead using folded paper platforms to propel myself higher. My wings scattered, creating a storm of blades that rained down on him. Abyss countered with a surge of water, his movements almost lazy in their precision.
Kazuki tried to join in, sending a dense cloud towards me in what I assumed was an attempt to blind me. It barely registered as a threat. I sliced through it with a single motion, the edges of my paper sharp enough to disperse the vapor instantly. He froze, eyes wide, before darting back behind Abyss.
"Get out!" Abyss roared. "You're ruining the fun!"
Kazuki didn't hesitate. He jumped from cloud to cloud before flying off with one of them, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. I didn't bother to follow, he wasn't worth my energy.
"Now," Abyss said, his grin widening as he turned back to me. "Lets see what you're truly made of."
Before that last syllable had left his lips, he lunged. The air cracked with a force of his motion, a streak of shimmering blue and grey as his form blurred towards me. I barely had time to react. My paper coiled around me instinctively, layers folding and weaving into barriers that absorbed the initial strike, a hydra-like whip of water slicing through the air with precision.
The impact drove me back, my shoes skidding against the drenched pavement. My mind raced, and I pushed my quirk further, sharper and faster. Shapes, think shapes. Scissors emerged, their edges honed by compression and desperation. I hurled them at him, one after another, a storm of cutting force aimed at his legs.
Abyss didn't dodge, he leapt into the air, twisting with the grace of a dancer, the scissors flashing past him in an arc. He landed with a splash into the water he'd saturated the area with, vanishing beneath the surface like a predator retreating to it's lair.
My heart thundered as I scanned the ripping pools, knowing he could reappear anywhere. Think. Stay ahead. Don't fall into his rhythm.
The water surged violently behind me. Abyss erupted from it's depths, his form magnified, water cascading off his body in glistening torrents. His claws slashed downward, and I barely managed to hurl myself to the side, the air displaced by attacks cutting like a blade.
"Is that all?" he mocked, his voice a guttural prowl. "I expected more."
I clenched my fists. More, then. Fine, let's try something new.
I thrust my hands forward. Crafting something I had never done before: a lightning bolt. Thin, jagged, and razor-sharp, it formed from overlapping layers of paper, compressed and aligned into a weapon meant to pierce.
With a burst of effort, I hurled it toward him, and to my surprise I was even struggling to follow it's speed. It's path cut the humid air with deadly intent. Abyss saw it an smiled, his arms spreading as if to embrace the attack. It stuck him square in the chest, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop.
His grin faltered, his body convulsed, his eyes went wide with shock, not from electricity, but from the phantom pain the weapon carried. He staggered, water dripping from his limbs as he recoiled a step.
"Clever, and cool." he hissed, his voice tinged with genuine surprise. His frame rippled unnaturally as he recovered, and the grin returned, now wild and full of something akin to joy. "You managed to rattle me. Not many can claim that."
Before I could respond, the water behind me exploded. Abyss emerged in a blur, his clawed hand aiming for my throat. I spun, folding paper into a shield just in time to catch the blow. The force sent me flying, crashing through a half collapsed wall. My ribs ached, my vision blurred, but I refused to stay down.
"Impressive." Abyss called out, his voice carrying through the destruction. He paced toward me, each step deliberate, the water pooling beneath him as if drawn by his presence. "Endeavour fought with the same fire. That refusal to bow. But tell me—" His form shimmered, growing larger, his muscles swelling largely and disgustingly, he was augmenting his size, water filled his muscles. "—can you keep up with me, when I truly unleash?"
With a flicker of my wrist, a paper bird shot forth, it's wings beating furiously as it soared towards Abyss. Mid-flight, it unfolded, refolding itself into a massive weight with the label 1tonne on it. It was a solid, crushing block that plummeted like a meteor. The ground quaked as it struck, the shockwave ripping through the air and knocking debris from nearby ruins. Dust and water mingled into a chaotic swirl, and for a moment, I thought I had him.
Abyss's roar tore throughout the streets, a sound that could have been rage, pain or exhilaration. And then came his laughter. Deep, resonant and unrestrained.
"Magnificent!" he cried, his voice booming over the destruction as he emerged, larger and more monstrous than before. His shark-like frame bulged, veins like rivers of power coursing over his body. "You've surpassed my expectations, Kobe Arakawa! Truly, you are a marvel!"
A marvel? I felt anything but. Every move I made was born of years of conditioning mixed with desperation, every strike I carried the weight of failure. Images of Yui flashed in my mind—the moment her body fell, lifeless, because I wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough. I wasn't enough.
I crafted a giant folding fan with a neat and delicate design. It's elegance sculpted from paper. Abyss fired off a tidal wave, "Good, Show me more!"
The fan was above me, waiting my command, Abyss was still asking for more of me...
I swung my arm in motion. The wind that followed blew like a hurricane. Debris and metal poles and light posts lifted off the ground, the ground Abyss was standing on shattered apart. He blew past it and was sent below to a lower level. The wind was still rushing past me in a strong gust that left me unharmed.
Abyss got up again, his torso was fully exposed with old and new scars all over them. Why is he still getting up? Is he happy with this? How can he keep going?
"{He's a monster.}"
A familiar voice spoke to me, it was childlike and melancholic. I turned to look at it, at him, at me. It was a small version of me, lacking the dreads and the piercings. Head looking down at his shiny black shoes and a voice that sounded like it was about to break apart.
"{He's a monster that keeps on eating. Will you let him swallow you whole?}"
'No.' It was an answer given to no one, since I knew nobody was actually there.
I began folding my last construct of the fight. Layer after layer compressed under my trembling fingers, every fold imbued with purpose. This wasn't about fire, electricity, or water. To beat an unstoppable force, create another unstoppable force.
As I worked Abyss crouched down, then jumped. But as he seen the creation he was jumping into his eyes widened in shock and his grin softened into something almost reverent. "Ah," he muttered, his tone quieter now, as if witnessing a revelation. "So this is your crescendo."
When it was ready... it fell. A shimmering construct of paper that unfolded as it descended, blooming into the shape of a bomb. As it hung in the air for a moment I ascended higher, the weapon's size dwarfed the buildings below. A small Family Mart could fit within it's hollow core.
And then, I let it fall.
Abyss's grin widened, his arms spread as if to embrace the apocalypse. "Life and Death," he said in a serene voice amidst the oncoming chaos. "Two sides of the same beautiful coin."
The detonation was cataclysmic. The world almost seemed to fracture under the sheer force. Buildings toppled like dominos, their steel skeletons groaning before collapsing into rubble. The ground split open, shockwaves rippling outward and shattering every window for blocks. The sky itself seemed to ripple, the air was filled with dust, paper fragments, and the distant screams of the city caught in the storm.
I hovered above it all, floating, suspended in the air. My body was weightless, my limbs trembling, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird. Around me, hundreds of paper cranes fluttered in the air, circling me like silent weeping angels.
Below, the battlefield was unrecognizable—a ruin of broken structures and churned earth. But it wasn't just destruction. In the air, high above the devastation, were my creations: massive birds and dragons of paper, their wings spanning tens of meters. They carried civilians, heroes, and even villains away from the blast zone, their forms graceful as they soared toward safety.
I hadn't realized I'd done it. Somewhere, amidst the fight, my quirk had acted on it's own, driven by some buried part of me that still wanted to protect, to save.
"{You have gained ten points!}"
My throat burned, my chest tightening with emotions I couldn't name. My eyes stung, but I blinked away the tears. The last time I'd cried was years ago, when I was being shepherded into the back of a pick up truck to what I believed would be a prison. But this pain? This was worse. This was more akin to a wound that wouldn't close.
I thought of Yui again, her face, her voice, her laugh. And then her silence.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I should have—" My words caught in my throat, the weight of my guilt choking me.
The cranes around me shimmered in the fading light, their delicate wings reflecting the fractured sunlight through the dust. They felt like her somehow—fragile, beautiful and fleeting.
I floated away, slowly. Back to where her body lay. The air felt heavier as I drifted towards where her body was. Untouched amidst the ruins. The paper cranes that had swirled around me like guardians began to scatter. Only one remained, trailing beside me, it's soft fluttering form was like an echo of the life that had been stolen from her.
The ground was uneven, fractured from the force of the battle, but I landed gently. I took a step forward, my legs unsteady beneath me, until I reached her. Yui was exactly how I left her—pale face but serene, her body cradled in the arms of a world that had failed her.
My breath hitched. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as the reality of it sank in. She wasn't coming back. The fire in her eyes, the laughter that used to fill the space of our grim reality at one of my dumb remarks, was gone. All that remained was this silent and still form.
I knelt beside her, my knees pressing into the broken ground. My fingers trembled as I reached out, brushing a stray lock hair from her face. She felt so cold. So distant. It was as if she had already become a part of the ruins around us.
"Yui..." her name came out as a whisper, barely audible over the soft rustle of paper in the wind. My throat felt raw, my chest hollow. I wanted to cry, to continue raging at the unfairness. But there was nothing left. The fight had taken everything from me.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I wasn't enough."
The paper crane that had followed me landed softly on her chest, folding itself into a smaller, simpler shape, also mourning her. I stared at it for a moment before I reached out, letting my quirk take over. Slowly, deliberately, I began folding.
Each motion was precise and ritualistic. My fingers moved with a grace I couldn't feel, the paper shaped into an envelope. Layer by layer, I folded my sorrow, my guilt, and my affection into it. When I was done, I placed it over her heart, pressing my hand against it as if I could somehow send my feelings to her through it.
"This... is all I can do for you now," I whispered. My voice was shaking, my eyes were burning, but the tears wouldn't fall. They never did. Even now, when everything inside me felt like it was breaking apart, I couldn't cry.
I stood slowly, my legs threatening to give way beneath me. The envelope, enveloped her. She wouldn't be lost in this game. I will carry her out with me.
I pressed my hands together and closed my eyes.
"Goodbye, Yui Kodai."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The room was dimly lit, as though the walls themselves mourned the loss of the fallen. Silence hung in the air, so thick and heavy it felt suffocating. Every face in the room bore the weight of what had happened in the last two days.
Lines etched into brows, grim determination coiled behind tired eyes. Principal Nezu sat at the head of the table, his paws clasped together, eyes glinting with an unreadable expression. The screen behind him displayed a somber scene: Crust, the Shield hero frozen in time.
"We owe Crust a huge debt we can never repay," Nezu began, his voice soft yet commanding. "He gave everything to shield our students. Without him, I'm sure their walks would have been more treacherous."
The words settled heavily in the room. Beside him, All Might lowered his head. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"He was a true hero." murmured Midnight, her usual vibrance extinguished. "Always the first to step forward and last to retreat."
Across the table, Vlad King sat stiffly, his crimson eyes glassy. The room seemed to hold it's breath as he cleared his throat. "And yet... one of mine fell." His voice cracked. "Yui Kodai. Quiet, steady and a bright future all snuffed away. She didn't deserve this."
The silence deepened, as though the very air sought to absorb the pain emanating from the man. Vlad's hands shook as he gripped the edge of the table, the veins on his arms standing out like fault lines.
"I have to call her parents," he choked out. "I have to tell them that their daughter..." he swallowed hard. "That their daughter isn't coming home."
Midnight reached out a hand, but he waved her off, his grief too raw to be soothed. Tears slipped down his face, unbidden and unashamed.
Nezu gave him a moment before speaking again. "Ms. Kodai's loss will not be in vein. Nor Crust's. But we also must address other matters."
The shift in tone sent a ripple down the entire table. Nezu's eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the table. A new image appeared on the screen, behind him Kobe Arakawa, his eyes blinking tears away as he floated over the destruction he had just caused. The sight was chilling, even for the battle-hardened heroes present.
"Soryu," Nezu started, his tone inscrutable. "A boy who is rapidly becoming more than we bargained for."
"He killed Abyss, and Overhaul before him." Aizawa said, his voice low and gravelly. "Brutally, and catastrophically. Without hesitation." His eyes, hidden beneath the messy black hair that seemed darker than usual.
"But in some cases, like this one. I have to say that it was necessary." Many eyes widened, and brows creased hearing the sentence from their very own number 1 hero. "Abyss was a monster that many high ranking heroes would have died to if they fought him while still trying to preserve his life. I'm not a fan of it, but in that situation they are all in. It may have been what was necessary."
"Necessary, perhaps," Nezu conceded. "But the manner in which he did it, that's what's concerning. And it's not just Abyss. Look at his actions. He did not fight to protect, he fought to destroy."
"He's angry," All Might argued. "Wouldn't you be, in his shoes?"
"He's just a boy." Midnight cooed.
"A boy with an incredibly dangerous quirk and sharp mind." Aizawa shot back, "With the way this 'Game' is going, do any of you think that people like him will even stop killing? Or will he find new targets for his rage? He was already off acting alone before all of this happened."
All Might opened his mouth to retort, but Nezu cut in. "Enough." His voice, though quiet, carried an undeniable authority. "This is not a debate of emotion. It's a matter of facts. And the fact is, Kobe Arakawa's action's may set a precedent. One that could redefine what it means to be a hero, for better or for worse."
The room fell silent once more. Nezu's gaze lingered on the image of Kobe, his expression unreadable. "We must watch him closely. Guide him, if we can. But if we cant..."
He didn't finish what he was saying. All Might pointed back to the feed.
"Look!"
Everyone's eyes spun to the screen and they could all see people being carried in the air, away from the attack that Kobe had fired off to kill Abyss. They were being saved.
Dozens of people being carried to safety by someone who they had believed to be leading a cold heart.
That new image alone, was enough to allow their hearts to settle, even if only for a moment.
____The darkness is suffocating, a never-ending void that wraps itself around my mind. I can't move, I can't breathe properly, can't even feel the weight of my own body. My limbs are stiff, locked in place, bound to this chair. I can't remember how I got here—no, I don't need to. All I know is the
sting that shoots through my nerves. The shocks don't end, jolting me awake and pulling me under at random. A throb of electricity burns through me, gnawing at my consciousness, but it's not just physical pain that torments me.
A ting, a sharp and high-pitched, slices through the haze of my thoughts. It's familiar, though I don't know why. That sound. The triangle. The signal. The moment my brain registers it, I feel myself falling back—sinking into something colder, something easier.
Then, a voice. Smooth. Soothing. It's not haunting—it's... calm. Precise. Almost reassuring. It cuts through the static of my mind, cutting through the disorienting buzz of the drugs and shock. A gentle hum in my ears, the voice lowering everything, pulling me into a singular focus. It's always been here, in the background of my thoughts.
"The world is not kind to those who hesitate. Only the relentless move forward."
The words settle over me like a weight, it pulls my fragmented mind together. There's no more room for weakness, no more room for confusion.
I remember the shock. The sting. I fight to focus on it. My body trembles, and the burn in my chest feels like it could split me open. But the voice... the voice is my anchor. It doesn't care. It needs me focused.
A quick breath. A sharp inhale. The world doesn't matter right now. Not the pain. Not the weight. Not even
Yui's face, her empty eyes. They all fall away.
The voice is right.
Only the relentless move forward.
I snap my eyes open again, but there's nothing there. No vision, clarity.
Move forward. The words press down on me like a truth too big for my chest. But it is the only thing I can hold on to. The only things that matters.
The triangle ting rings again, a soft ping, as the shock rattles my bones. But I don't feel it anymore.
I don't care.
I'll keep going.
Forward.
____Midoriya's breathing was sharp and laboured, his body a blur as he narrowly evaded Stain's blade. Each swing came faster, wilder, but the Hero Killer's precision never wavered. The metallic hiss of his katana slicing through the air scraped against Midoriya's ears.
His mind raced, aided by One For All's honed power. Each step backward was deliberate, but every dodge left him closer to the edge of losing control. Stain was relentless.
"What's wrong Champion?" Stain sneered, his crimson streaked face twisted into a manic grin. "Are you scared? Or angry? You've changed since we last met."
Midoriya didn't respond. His emerald eyes flicked between Stain's weapon and his feet, analyzing the rhythm of his strikes. He sidestepped a vertical slash, feeling the blade graze the fabric of his clothing, then he ducked under a follow-up thrust that would have torn into his ribs.
A sudden feint caught Midoriya off-guard. The top of the katana nicked his cheek, drawing a line of blood. He hissed through gritted teeth and leaped backwards. The line of blood hadn't spilled onto the katana which he was grateful for.
"You're faster now." Stain acknowledged, resting his blade on his shoulder. "A little more ruthless too." he tilted his head, and gave a look that showed he was curious. "Are you still a hero?"
Midoriya charged forward instead of answering, his body low and swift. The sudden aggression forced Stain to retreat a step. Green lightning crackled around Midoriya as he launched into a spinning kick, his leg glowing with power. Stain raised his blade just in time to block, but the sheer force sent him skidding across the ground, boots scraping against stone.
"Where is that purpose that was behind your ego?" Stain questioned. "Like your friend that day. It looks like you're just clinging to an illusion of justice. Where's your conviction?"
Midoriya stopped, standing tall, his chest rising and falling. His silence was unnerving. He glared at Stain, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the tension between them.
Stain licked his lips, his tongue darting across his jagged teeth. "It's better they die. Every last one. The undeserving money grubber, the one's chasing prestige and selfish revenge... I'll go back and find that speedster friend of yours. Ingenium..."
Something inside Midoriya's mind snapped. He surged forward with blinding speed, his fist connecting with Stain's jaw before the villain could react. The hero killer's head snapped back, blood spraying from his mouth. Midoriya didn't stop. His next punch buried itself in Stain's ribs, the sickening crunch of bones shattering echoing throughout the area they were in.
Stain's Katana clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees, coughing up crimson droplets.
"You don't decide who's worthy," Midoriya said, his voice low and trembling with suppressed rage. "And you don't get to take them from me."
Stain coughed, his eyes struggling to focus on Midoriya. He let out a weak laugh. "You... you're different. Maybe you're crossing the threshold... but not in a good way."
Midoriya didn't answer. His glowing fist hovered in the air, trembling. He wanted to hit Stain again. It was the first time he ever thought on murder, he wanted to erase the threat that Stain posed. But something stopped him. Slowly, he lowered his hand. The Hero Killer slumped forward, unconscious.
The tension hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Midoriya's chest burned with exertion and fury. The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence.
"Midoriya!" Iida's voice rang out, filled with relief and worry. He arrived with Todoroki close behind, followed by Uraraka, Tokoyami, and the rest of their gathered group plus some. Itsuka Kendo was here, her face was pale as she scanned the scene.
"You found Stain?!" Todoroki said. His gaze lingered on Stain's battered form.
"He found me." Midoriya replied just in time for Fat Gum to question him.
"Is he dead?"
Midoriya didn't even have it in him to give a surprised look at the question, he shook his head. "No, just unconscious."
Kendo's expression twisted into something darker. "Kodai..." she started, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at her leaderboard. Beside Kodai's name was a skull icon, meaning she was...
"She didn't make it," Kendo whispered, her voice cracking.
The group fell silent. The weight of the game pressed down on them all, suffocating and relentless. Nirengeki Shoda broke the stillness, stepping forward with a grim expression. "There's something you need to know." he said.
"Shishida and I were near a hotel before that big explosion two days ago. Some people described someone matching Kodai's description... with someone else. A boy, average height, probably in high school, short dreads and piercings, and dark-skinned."
Kendo clenched her fists. "Go on."
"More people later on said that, that same description was near the explosion site," Shoda continued. "And he... survived. They think he caused it. And he's been seen going after villains with the intent to kill."
Uraraka's eyes widened. "A killing spree?"
Shoda nodded. "I think it's the name Kobe Arakawa, who's also Soryu. The leaderboard shows all that... he's on 45 points now. That's at least four kills. Don't know what he was at before the explosion though."
Todoroki's brows furrowed, he remembers fighting alongside Soryu and he doesn't know if this new violent personality matches. "He didn't seem like the type to kill, especially not without reason. Especially not with his skills. He could just trade points to survive the four-day rule."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Midoriya's jaw tightened, his fists trembling at his sides. With the information he had just heard, that was definitely Kobe. He couldn't say he didn't kill, he doesn't really know.
But if Kobe was with Kodai and she died, maybe that would be the reason. But then why?
"Is there a chance Kobe and Kodai knew each other from before?" He asked.
Kendo shook her head. "No, we all met in the games."
So no. Well the chance of them becoming close in the games wouldn't be super farfetched, he thinks.
"{New rule...}" Midoriya jumped at the sound of the Bug's. They all materialized in front of everyone to announce the rule.
"{If a player kills another, they gain half of all their points after death.}"
Why would it only be half? Most of them were thinking.
"Probably just as a last option for bargaining." Fat Gum seemed to be able to read their thoughts. "Just in case someone doesn't want to give off all their points then that would leave the aggressor with one last option-"
He was cut off by the Bug again.
"{New Rule...}" there wasn't anyone jumping, but there was still surprise at a second rule being added in such quick succession.
"{Bounties can now be appointed.}"
Even without reading ahead, Midoriya knew that this could only be a bad thing. The details were as followed:
To place a bounty, a player must have at least the number of points they are offering. Whoever claims the bounty will gain the full reward, (half from the target and half from the issuer) If the issuer dies or their points drop below the threshold, the bounty disappears.
"Great, now that's even more incentive to hunt each other." Kendo's eyes narrowed.
The Bug never disappeared, another announcement came from it's mouth.
"{Bounty placed on player Kobe Arakawa. Reward: 120 points.}"
Eyes went wide. The group stood still not knowing what to do. 120 points was a lot of points, that would be at least two new rules added. And Kobe, none of them knew where he was or if he were on his own or with people he could fight alongside.
And why? Who would put such a high amount on him. The leaderboard never shown who, but beside Kobe's name was a skull mark that was coloured in red. Midoriya remained silent.
He noticed a dark look settle in Kendo's eye but he couldn't tell why. And he didn't think it would be wise to ask. His eyes then went to the unconscious Stain.
"Let's keep him close." he said. "He has 100 points, we can use that for our advantage somehow, let's just wait till he wakes up."
Midoriya's tone was resolute, no one argued with him as he went to pick up the villain and sling him over his shoulder.
The group then left to find somewhere to sit in peace that wasn't the outside.
Things have gotten a lot more dangerous.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A bounty? Nothing to worry about.
A price on my head just gives another reason for the desperate to sharpen their knives. So, when the Bug's voice echoed my bounty issued by one Tomoyasu Chikazoku. A name I'd never heard, but looking at the bounty ruling it says you can only place bounties on people that you have met before. So I guessed he was either that Geten dude or the other one... Trumpet. Or someone nearby was watching, would that count?
Whatever, it's just noise.
The sound of my shoes crunching against the pavement keeps me in the present. Two people had come after me within the previous days, two villains. They weren't really memorable, but thay were a little dangerous. I only killed them after they gave up all their chances to run and instead decided to continue attacking me.
My mind was on the rules of the game. A web of constraints that tighten with every passing moment. They're relentless, always shifting.
"I'll make it harder for anyone else then." I mused aloud, I would only need five more points. I plan on raising the price, every time someone wanted to add a rule they would need to give up more points than what they had spent last.
Then I'd have more time to search for those damn artifacts. Still two left, no one's found any? Seriously! All Might's gauntlet and a damn USB.
The latter would probably be the hardest to find. There wasn't much to tell it apart other than a small outline of a plant decorating it.
The sharp whiz of a bullet snaps me out of my thoughts, only to bring back darker ones. Reflex takes over—I twist to the side, feeling the air split just inches from my face. The shot buries itself in the wall behind me with a deafening crack, sending dust and debris flying.
Adrenaline surges as I dive for cover, sliding behind a crumbling car. My heart pounds against my ribs, but my mind's already calculating. That was too precise, too fast. Whoever fired that shot is a pro. They know what they are doing.
Peeking out, I scan the area, eyes darting between windows, rooftops, alleyways. Nothing. My gaze moved further to the skyscrapers ahead in the distance, and there—just for a second—I see her.
That far away. A figure framed in the shattered window of a high-rise. Purple hair catching the faint sunlight. Well-defined curves that strike a perfect balance between elegance and lethality.
"Lady Nagant," I muttered. She was on the news a few years ago for killing fellow heroes and trying to strike down a high ranking commission member. She's not just any random assassin. She's a legend. And she's hunting me.
I duck down, pressing my back against the car. My mind races. That building is far—too far. For a normal shot to travel that distance with such accuracy and speed? Impossible. Unless you're her. She's a living weapon, her quirk making her a sniper of unparalleled skill. And she set her sights on me. I'm in deep trouble.
I folded makeshift binoculars. Slowly, I carefully raise them to my eyes and peer through the gap in the wreckage.
The building looms in the distance, it's upper floors shattered and abandoned. Through the binoculars, I lock on to the window. There she is. Poised like a statue, her rifle—part of her body—resting effortlessly in her hands. Scanning, searching. Hunting.
Her purple hair flows down her back in a loose ponytail, a sharp contrast to her cold, calculating eyes. Even from here, I can feel the intensity of her focus. She's not just looking for a target. She's waiting for the perfect, lethal shot.
I lower the binoculars, my breath steady but shallow. She's far, yes, but the distance means nothing to her. I'm in her sights and she won't stop until she's taken me down.
I'm not scared—fear isn't useful—but I'm not stupid either. She's a hero that came out of nowhere and silently dominated the charts only for it to be revealed she has an incredibly high kill count. She's in a league of her own. Although Kobe had a theory on where she came from, it came to him while he was piecing some more clues about himself and the Eden Project.
At least with Abyss, you more than likely knew he was coming.
"Think Kobe," I muttered to myself, pressing my hand against my temple. "Trying to just run wouldn't be smart."
I glance around, taking in my surroundings. The streets was a maze of debris and abandoned vehicles. Shadows stretch long across the ground, offering cover but also concealing threats. The skyscraper is far, but not unreachable.
***I exhaled, my breath curling in the cold air like smoke from a dying flame. My hands moved instinctively, folding paper into a slim blade. My mind churned through the possibilities of me reaching her, bridging the gap between us.
The building was at least five blocks away, and her perch was in the upper floors. She'd see me coming from a mile away.
That's fine. A challenge.
The distant hiss of wind mixed with the sporadic groan of the city. I had to move. I tucked the blade in my pocket, a stack of paper formed and darted out from my little shelter, sticking low to the ground.
The first step was cover. The streets offered little, but I had no intention of staying on the ground level. I reached a half crushed delivery truck and quietly scaled it's mangled frame, crouching atop it's roof. From here, I could see the remnants of an office building, it's roofs intact but its walls shattered in places, exposing it's skeletal beams.
Perfect.
I snapped my fingers, summoning a thing sheet of folded paper that coiled and twisted like a serpent. With a flick of my wrist, it wrapped itself around a nearby lamppost, forming a taut line. Testing the tension, I leapt, letting the paper zip-line me across the gap to the office building. The wind whipped past, and I landed with a muted thud, rolling to absorb the impact.
"Step one, down." I muttered, glancing back at the skyscraper. Still far but not impossible.
Navigating the office building was like threading a needle through glass. The floors were jagged, and the air was heavy with the stench of mildew and dust. I made my way to the highest point of the building, crouching low as I approached a shattered window. I could feel the air shift as I leaned out. The skyscraper loomed closer now, though still dauntingly out of reach.
"Step two." I whispered, pulling out more paper. This time, I folded rapidly, my fingers a blur. The result was a cluster of small, bird-like constructs, fragile yet efficient. One by one, they fluttered out, forming a loose network of thin lines that stretched toward the next structure: an abandoned monorail station suspended on skeletal tracks. I grabbed onto the nearest line, my constructs holding firm as I slid across.
Halfway through, a sharp crack split past the air. My instincts screamed, and I dropped, clinging to the line as the bullet whizzed past my head, tearing through one of the paper birds. The line sagged, but I held firm, twisting to dangle beneath it. I glanced toward the skyscraper, catching a faint glimmer of movement in the window. She was onto me.
"Not bad," I muttered, she was like Hawkeye.
With a sharp tug, I swing myself onto the monorail tracks, landing in a crouch. The station was crumbling, it's once-pristine metal rusted and warped. But it provided enough cover to obscure my movements. I darted inside, quickly assessing my next move.
The skyscraper was a block away now, separated by an expanse of open road. No way I'd cross that unscathed. My eyes scanned the station, landing on an old maintenance cart perched on the tracks. An idea sparked.
I set to work, folding sheets of paper into reinforced panels that I affixed to the carts frame. It wouldn't stop a sniper bullet, but it might deflect a glancing shot. Next I folded a set of massive, fan-like wings, attaching them to the cart's sides. A final touch, a coil of tightly packed paper serving as a spring-loaded propulsion system.
"Let's hope this works," I muttered, climbing into the makeshift vehicle. With a deep breath, I activated the spring. The cart lurched forward, gathering speed as it barreled down the tracks. The wind screamed in my ears, and I braced myself, keeping low as the cart hurtled toward the skyscraper.
Another crack. This time, the bullet pinged off one of the panels, tearing through a wing but leaving the cart intact. I gritted my teeth, my focus narrowing to the rapidly approaching building. Timing was everything.
At the last second, I leapt, using the cart's momentum to propel myself upward. My quirk flared, and I folded a massive paper platform beneath my feet, angling it like a ramp. The force launched me higher, sending me hurtling toward the skyscraper's lower floors.
Glass shattered as I crashed through a window, rolling to a stop inside a dimly lit corridor. The air was eerily still, and my breath came in ragged gasps. I rose slowly, brushing shards of glass from my jacket. My paper blade was already in my hand, it's paper edges lusting for blood.
"Three chances." I called out, my voice echoed in the quiet hallways. "That's all you get."
A low chuckle answered me, followed by the deliberate click of heels against the floor. Lady Nagant emerged from the shadows, her sniper rifle arm resting casually. Her purple hair framed a sharp, confident smile.
"Three chances? How magnanimous," she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "What are you, some kind of noble executioner? Or just another dog of the commission?"
The words struck a nerve, though I didn't let it show. "Dog of the commission? You're gonna have to elaborate on that," I said, keeping my tone even.
Instead of answering, she raised her rifle, and the fight began.
She fired, the bullet screaming toward me. I sidestepped, my paper blade slicing through the air to intercept it. The reinforced edge deflected the shot, though the force rattled my arm. She moved, disappearing into a side room.
I pursued, folding a series of small, paper drones that zipped ahead, scouting for her. One exploded as a bullet tore through it, revealing her position. I darted into the room, throwing a volley of paper shuriken's. They sliced through the air, embedding into walls and furniture, but she was already moving again.
The fight carried us across multiple floors. In one office space, I folded a series of barriers, using them as a cover while she fired relentlessly. Her precision was uncanny, each shot calculated to force me into disadvantageous positions. I countered by setting traps, tripwires made of nearly invisible paper strands, designed to slow her down. She triggered one, the wire snapping around her ankle. I lunged, closing the distance, but she twisted in midair, using her rifle like a staff to block my strike.
"You think you're clever?" She taunted, driving the butt of her rifle to my face. I ducked, spinning to sweep her legs, but she slipped backward, landing gracefully.
"I've had worse," I shot back, reforming my blade into a whip. The paper crackled as I lashed out, forcing her to retreated. The whip snared a desk, and I yanked it toward her. She vaulted over it, firing mid-leap. The bullet grazed my shoulder, drawing blood.
We moved into a stairwell, the narrow space amplifying the intensity. I folded the paper whip into a shield, deflecting another shot as I advanced. She retreated up the stairs, firing as she went. I followed, using my quirk to fold small platforms beneath my feet, accelerating my climb. When I reached the next floor, she was waiting, her rifle aimed.
"Last chance," I warned, my voice colder now. I was counting down in my head. Three strikes. Three warnings. She was nearing her limit.
She fired, and I ducked, rolling beneath the shot. My blade reforming in an instant, slashing toward her. She blocked with her rifle, the clash echoing through the empty office. My blade bit into the metal.
"Why do you care?" She demanded, her voice sharp. "Aren't you just another pawn for them. Another safety net?"
"I'm nobody's pawn," I growled, pushing her back. "And you're out of time."
With a final strike, I disarmed her, pinning her against a wall. My blade hovered inches from her throat.
"Who told you about me?" I asked, I was still interested in what she knows. "What was all of that about the 'commission's dog'?"
She hesitated, I pressed the paper blade deeper, enough to draw blood. "It was Daigo Kiyoshi." she admitted, finally, her voice low.
The creator of this game. She spoke to him? Was he in this game?
I said that last part out loud unknowingly. "No, he's not. He brought me to some separate space before being put in the game and told me about you being part of a commission run project similar to how I was."
And the beat in my head stopped. Silence reigned as my eyes widened. I wasn't incredibly surprised honestly. The Eden Project, a place where they were looking for All Might's replacement. Of course it would be run by the hero commission.
A part of me was a little too hopeful though, believing too much in the good of the people. Believing that people that literally monitor and serve hero society wouldn't be capable of something like that. They already are deep in the curriculum of many hero schools throughout the country.
So why...? Why would they conduct such experiments in secret?
And Nagant... she says she was part of it too.
I let her go, she stumbled forward to her knees and clutched her throat. A dry laugh escaped her lips. "You look a little surprised."
But if Daigo Kiyoshi knew... then does that mean he could also be a member of the same project as I? Or did he allow for it to be run.
"I am." I responded coldly, keeping up my act. I had decided not to kill her. "I don't remember seeing you though." I also don't remember anyone in the project called Daigo or any other suitable nickname.
"I was trained privately right out of middle school. I was an assassin who killed heroes that were up to no good, which essentially meant anything from doing actual bad to digging in a little too deep into the HPSC back yard."
Privately. So that meant she wasn't completely like me. "What about you?" She asked as she got up, wiping her face with her arm.
"I'd rather not get into my past all that much."
She scoffed. Her weapon arm disappearing into the look of a real arm. She went to sit on a broken desk across from me as I was thinking.
"So, are you with the commission or what?" She asked.
I thought it was obvious to tell. Another part of me began thinking. Did the commission have plans on having me back in their clutches again to fulfill their purpose for me? Would they have found a way to get me right on track to being a hero.
If they did. I'm not sure I even would have fought against it. Besides looking for a way to expose it, which I only came up with haphazardly one day, I had nothing.
There wasn't anything I really wanted.
"I'm not working for them. I was a part of some experiment by them a while ago though. And I've been searching for proof of it even existing."
The words I spoke were soft, I sounded almost defeated. For some reason my mind retreated to memories of Yui... I had never openly spoke about my past to anyone, but I find my mind oddly at peace with the thought of her eventually knowing.
"Is that gonna be your way of exposing them?" she asked me.
"What other way?"
"Storm their castle. Make them know you still exist along with all the crap they forced on you. Make your voice heard."
I sighed at that. For someone raised by the commission I didn't expect such a brutish answer. She laughed at my reaction.
"I was kidding. I know that would be stupid. Information is everywhere. You just need to grab hold of it and expose it." she muttered. "What outcome do you expect though? What do you want after the world see's what was done to you?"
I don't know. I didn't want to say that though, so I kept my mouth shut. She got the answer from that alone.
It was hard, thinking of a future beyond that. It was hard enough to think of me actually being able to expose them. And it was super hard for me to think of a future further than that, with an older version of me... doing what?
It was there again, a silent cry of nothingness from that same smaller version of me that appeared as I was fighting Abyss.
What was my greater purpose in this world?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"He's not here," Nagant said bluntly. "Daigo Kiyoshi isn't inside the game with us. He is able to run things from the outside."
I frowned, running my fingers through my dreads, untangling the mess. "He can transport himself in and out of the game as long as it's active, and he also has to follow the same rules and restrictions that we do. The Bug ensures that." She finished.
I mulled that over. If he was bound by the game's parameters, then he couldn't just hide out in Tokyo or some other city. "Then he'd probably have to stick in Hosu."
"Precisely," Nagant confirmed, her tone cool. "But finding him wouldn't be our job. That's for heroes and law enforcement outside. Our's is to do what we can here to end the game."
Right.
"How many points do you have?" I asked her.
"One hundred and twelve." She replied, "Daigo gave me fifty from the start."
I raised an eyebrow. "Well aren't you the teachers pet?" My tone was dry, but she smirked unbothered.
"Call it insurance," she said. Insurance of what?
She looked like she just came up with that, so I let it be.
"We need to add a rule to the game that helps us find the artifacts. I was thinking you try to add one that reveals where the artifacts are."
"I tried that," Nagant said. "When I first got the fifty points. The Bug said it would disrupt the balance of the game."
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Of course."
I got up and thought for a moment. There was probably no way to gain the exact locations of the last two artifacts. Maybe asking for a silly riddle to help. But then I thought on something better.
"Add a rule that tells us if someone has found and still has the missing artifacts in their possession."
Her Bug came out, it paused, and it's digital eyes were flickering.
"{Rule accepted. New information will be broadcasted to all players.}"
I then looked at the list of information that was being spread instead of the Bug announcing it for us. Both artifacts have been found. All Might's gauntlet... was found by Tomura Shigaraki.
That's bad, I still hadn't met the man, but he was the one who broke into UA with his league and from what I know. Those Nomu were brought in by him. What a bother. Since he was known by UA, there was already a big enough chance that those in UA would plan on advancing on him anyway.
The USB, had also been found. By the man named Nine. He was the one who added the earlier rule to expose people's quirks. His quirk was
Weather Manipulation.
"We should focus on this one." I said while pointing to Nine's name.
"Why him?" She asked. Tomura Shigaraki was already known and his personality was there for everyone to see, but Nine was unknown, we don't know what we're looking for.
But If we go for Shigaraki, then there's a chance we'd run into UA. If we run into UA, I could run into Kendo. And then she would ask about Yui.... I shook my head trying to disregard those thoughts.
All of that would just slow me down from getting out of here.
"Tomura Shigaraki is more known, and already has a big target on his back for attacking UA high, so they and the other heroes here will go. We should work on getting that USB instead." I told her.
She gave a small nod, "Let's get out of here then. Staying in one place too long makes us a target."
Soon, soon we'll be out of this long drawn game.
____The real Hosu city pulsed. Hawks perched silently atop a building, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling streets below. The lead on the four missing people had dragged him here.
"Four victims, vanished without a trace," Endeavour had summarized before they split up. Hawks was still searching for Daigo Kiyoshi, and his search had led him to Hosu. Hawks took the eastern part of the city, knowing he could cover more ground faster.
His wings twitched as he swung low.
As he turned a corner, his gaze snagged on a boy sauntering out of an alley. The child's navy hair shimmered faintly under a streetlamp, and his striking orange eyes darted around with a nervous tension that screamed guilt.
Hawks's curiosity piqued, and he hovered overhead, silently observing. The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, biting his lip, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. His small hands clenched.
Hawks swooped down silently, landing right in front of the boy. The boy startled, nearly stumbling as Hawks landed in front of him.
"Hey there kid." Hawks kept his voice gentle, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "Didn't mean to scare you. Just noticed you looked a bit... upset. Everything alright?"
The boy froze, his orange eyes wide, panic radiating off him in waves. Hawks smiled, keeping his body language non-threatening. "Relax, I'm a hero you know... I'm here to help."
The reassurance seemed to crack something within the boy. His lips trembled, and before Hawks could say another word, he burst into tears, collapsing onto his knees.
"I didn't want to," the boy sobbed. "I didn't want to do it, but he made me."
Hawks crouched, gently resting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Just take a deep breath. Who made you do what?"
"The man on the screen, Proxy!" the boy wailed. "He's been killing people I bring to him. He said if I didn't, he'd—" The boy's words dissolved into choked sobs.
Hawks face darkened. His communicator, tuned to Endeavour, was active. "Endeavour, we've got a situation," He began in between the boys sobs, but the words caught in his throat as a voice cut through the alley.
"Itsuki."
A pale woman stepped out of the shadows, her expression cold and unyielding. Her alabaster features seemed almost otherworldly—pale skin, pale blonde hair, and pale eyes that were void of pupils. Her lips, a soft pink, pressed into a thin line.
Hawks's instincts screamed danger.
"Itsuki, run!" the woman commanded. She locked eyes with Hawks, and without hesitation, vines erupted from her outstretched hands, twisting through the air like living chains.
Hawks leaped backwards, wings snapping open as he soared into the sky. "Nice try, lady," he called, keeping his tone light despite the tense situation.
The woman, Lyra the boy called him, didn't waste time. She turned to the boy Itsuki, her voice urgent, "Go!"
Before the boy could move, the alley lit up with the intense glow of fire. Endeavour strode into the scene with a young man over his shoulder. The man was unconscious, his head lolling to the side.
"Found this one on the way." Endeavour mumbled. "Looks like he was about to be Daigo's next victim."
As if summoned by his name, a man stepped into view, a calm and composed figure with a childish smile on his face. He held a revolver in one hand, it's barrel gleaming in the dim light. His expression was serene, almost disconcertedly so.
"You're faster than I expected." His voice, it wasn't the complete same as what was overlayed on through the speakers that Hawks remembers. Daigo Kiyoshi sounded much more real. "But I should have expected that from the number 2."
Hawks narrowed his eyes, his feathers bristling. "The entire nation's been searching for you. Don't know why it took so long for us to find you here."
Daigo's eyes flickered to Hawks and then he looked back to the boy, Itsuki, who cowered behind Lyra. "Everyone plays their part. And I just know how to play mine well." he said simply, as though discussing a weather report.
The tension snapped like a wire. Daigo raised his free hand, and with a flick of his fingers, the air shimmered. Suddenly, debris materialized out of thin air, crashing down toward the heroes.
Hawks darted upward, wings wrapping around the unconscious man Endeavour had been carrying. He flew him to safety before diving back into the fray.
Endeavour ignited, flames roaring as he turned to face Lyra hoping to take the woman out early. She retaliated with a surge of vines, the tendrils snaking through the air, crackling as they burned against his flames. Daigo, meanwhile, conjured larger objects.
Given the weird artistic and glitchy flair they had to them as they were coming out, Hawks theorized that Daigo just pulls them out from his game world and uses them as a form of attack.
A rusted car dropped from above, forcing Endeavour to roll to the side.
"Stay focused," Endeavour barked, slamming his fist into the ground to unleash a fiery wave that forced Lyra to retreat.
"Trying," Hawks replied, weaving through the chaos. He sent razor-sharp feathers flying toward Daigo, who dodged with an unnerving calmness. "This guy's like a walking glitch," Hawks muttered under his breath.
Civilians screamed as the heroes were pushed further inward to the city. Debris was scorched by flames and turned to ash before they could hit the ground. Hawks and Endeavour held back, mindful of the collateral damage. But it was a precarious balance, their movements limited by the need to protect the people around them.
Daigo's calm demeanour never wavered. "You're clinging to a flawed reality." he said, his voice cutting through the chaos. "A world ruled by randomness and chance. My vision is one of order. Perfection. A digitalized essence where suffering is obsolete."
"Sounds like a fancy way to play God." Hawks shot back, launching another flurry of feathers.
Daigo smirks. "If that's what it takes for you all to see it how I see it."
Hawks kept his eyes on Lyra, who was now weaving chaos with vines and plant life she had dug up from beneath the surface of the city.
Lyra thrust her hands forward, pale tendrils of plant life erupting from cracks in the pavement, twisting like serpents. Thick veins coiled around nearby lampposts, cars, and even street signs, creating an organic barricade that boxed in Hawks and Endeavour. Thorned blossoms sprouted along the vines, their sharp tips glinting menacingly under the city lights.
Hawks darted skyward, wings beating rapid bursts to gain height, but Lyra anticipated the move. She raised one hand, and a cluster of thorny tendrils shot upward like a whip. The thorns gleamed as they slashed through the air. Hawks narrowly avoided them, but his focus wavered as screams erupted from a nearby bus trapped in her thorny barricade. Civilians inside pounded against the windows, their terror wide and painted on their face.
"Hawks!" Endeavour roared, flames billowing around his fists as he slammed them into the barricade. The vines sizzled and burned, releasing thick clouds of smoke. "Keep them off the civilians!"
"On it," Hawks dove low, sending feathers slicing through the vines binding the bus. They cut with surgical precision, freeing the passengers, who scrambled and ran for safety.
Lyra's cold gaze followed their retreat. With her arms raised up, more vines erupted from the asphalt, this time coiling around a nearby building. They tightened with a groan, and cracks began to spread across the structure's facade.
"She's bringing the building down!" Hawks shouted, flaring his wings to send a concentrated gust of air towards the vines. The short burst only slowed them, but it gave Endeavour enough time to rush in. His flames roared to life, incinerating the tendrils before they could finish their destructive work.
Lyra's expression remained stoic, but their was a flicker of frustration that crossed her face. She raised both hands, and the ground beneath Endeavour erupted with a snarl of roots. They wrapped around his legs pulling him off balance.
"I've had enough of this!" Endeavour bellowed, igniting his entire body in a fiery blaze. The roots burned away, but not before Lyra directed another wave of vines toward a fleeing group of civilians.
Hawks intercepted the attack, his feathers forming a protective barrier around the group. "Do you even care about the damage your causing?" he snapped.
"I care for me, and my safety." Lyra replied, her voice icy. Her movements were fluid, almost dance-like, as she manipulated the vines to strike again and again, forcing the heroes to split their focus between protecting the civilians and countering her attacks.
Meanwhile Daigo stood calmly in the center of the chaos, watching with a detached curiosity, and he also looked as if he were waiting for someone. With a wave of his hand, another car appeared out of thin air, dropping from above like a guillotine. Endeavour blasted it with a stream a fire, melting it midair before it could crash into the street.
Daigo smirk widened. "Predictable. Let's see how you handle this." He raised his other hand, and a torrent of objects began to materialize a mailbox, a streetlight and even chunks of concrete. They hurled towards the heroes with relentless force, forcing them to dodge.
Hawks's feathers darted like arrows, intercepting some of the projectiles, while Endeavour blasted others apart. But the sheer volume was overwhelming, and Daigo used the chaos to his advantage. He moved through the battlefield like a ghost, his revolver in hand, firing precise shots that forced the heroes to stay on the defensive.
The fight was reaching a fever pitch when a new figure entered the fray. The crowd's screams turned to cheers as a booming voice echoed through the streets.
"Fear not citizens. I am here!"
All Might landed with a resounding impact, the force of his arrival sending shockwaves through the battlefield. He immediately assessed the situation, his sharp eyes locking onto Daigo and Lyra.
"Endeavour, Hawks! Focus on the civilians. I'll handle these two."
Endeavour scoffed, but seeing how fragile the situation was followed along with the order. Daigo's calm demeanour didn't waiver as All Might advanced. "Ah, the Symbol of Peace. I was wondering when you'd show up."
Lyra sent another wave of vines surging toward All Might, but he countered with a single, devastating punch that shattered them into splinters. She stumbled back, her normally composed expression faltering as All Might closed the distance.
"Enough games!" All Might bellowed, his voice resonating authority. He lunged at Daigo, it was finally a moment he had to reaching out to his student again, to Midoriya. Not just him, but everyone trapped inside that game.
Daigo raised both his hands, summoning a massive chunk of debris to block the attack. All Might shattered it with ease, his fist connecting with Daigo's chest, sending him sprawling.
Lyra rushed to Daigo's side, her vines forming a protective cocoon around them. But All Might's strength was overwhelming. With a series of precise strikes, he dismantled her defenses and knocked her unconscious.
Daigo, pinned beneath All Might's iron grip, looked up with a faint smile. "Impressive. But you're just another fool missing the bigger picture."
"What are you talking about?" All Might commanded. "End your foolish game and release everyone at once!" All Might's grip tightened and the air was charged with a heavy tension of pressure that seemed to crush Daigo under even more.
Daigo's eyes gleamed with an unsettling confidence. "My quirk doesn't just create the game world as I'm sure you've figured out. Every tag I place gathers data. Data on everything it touches, and then I can replicate it to my world. Objects, places, people."
The words hung in the air. They had slowly put those pieces together already. But now with the look of pure glee on his face there was something deep in their guts that was telling them something wrong was going on.
He didn't mention transporting them, though they believed he most certainly could.
It was only then All Might noticed that his side was being grabbed by Proxy, at first he believed he was trying to fight back, but then he gripped the arm and crushed it.
"What have you done?" All Might asked looking horrified.
"I was waiting for you number 1." Daigo laughed out ignoring the pain to his dominant arm. "I placed four tags on you, twice when you first hit me, and another two when you pin me down."
Hawks was the first one to understand what Proxy was getting at. "Oh no!"
"I thought the games were getting a bit stale. So I wanted to add in the All MIght DLC!" Proxy laughed in a manic tone that shook the very core of the people that heard it. "An unsurmountable force that obviously can't be beaten by normal people, how will the players get past this!!!"
Proxy disappeared in a flash, leaving Lyra and the kid huddled up in a ball by the entrance of the alley.
The heroes gave each other a look. All Might ripped the tags that he could find off of him.
Daigo's words weighed over them like a storm cloud. What he had in store for his games was going to result in much casualty.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The dusk painted the buildings in grim hues, where even the softest amber lights felt like predatory eyes.
Nagant's voice sliced through the quiet as we paused at the Hosu train station. "If this Nine... whoever he is," she began, her tone level but probing. "actually has he USB, why hasn't he placed it in it's place holder yet? What kind of person... waits in the middle of a hell like this."
I looked at her thinking back on the many types of people I have come across while being here in this game. There are many that would choose to carry on killing in this game until they were the last ones left. "It's the question isn't it?" I said, I didn't know how disregarding I sounded until I spoke.
"Maybe he's scared, maybe waiting for the right moment." I added, glancing past the station and to the train stationery behind it. "Or... maybe he enjoys holding things by the throat."
Nagan't eyes were sharp as they pinned on me. "Then he probably wouldn't hand it over?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But judging off the rules he has added, I doubt that he is the type to make things easy for us." I let the silence settle for a beat before adding. "Then again, maybe he's under a bad situation."
"We're all in a bad situation." we were.
The amount of people that have died is an insane amount. Probably more so in this short few weeks compared to the six month statistics that some blogs post to try and show hero work being more of a net positive compared to standard policing.
Even though the civilians were not a part of the games, and didn't have to participate, they were still a free point for any small time villain who is struggling. And since they are so weak, for some it is probably just a fun little thrill to torment them. That is just how people with power are.
Could this Nine person be like that? That was another thing that rubbed me the wrong way. He was only given the name Nine, a pseudonym, most of, if not everyone else got their real names posted. In the beginning I believed it to be because the registry may not have information on who some of these people are and cannot link a quirk to a face.
But then I remembered that Daigo Kiyoshi put tags on all of us participating members of his game, tags which he says collects data, so wouldn't that mean he would know of everyone's name and quirk anyway.
So that led me to another conclusion. It told me that there is a chance that he already knows Daigo Kiyoshi personally and got him to keep his name a secret. It still made me a bit wary about things. What is the limit to the data he collects?
"Why have you led us here by the way?" Lady Nagant asked me.
"Didn't the people lead us here?" I asked absentmindedly.
"There were only two people, and it was in the same instance. They didn't lead us anywhere near here. So why here?"
Ah, I made a little mistake. Well that was fine. But I couldn't answer her. There wasn't a plan, it wasn't something I could map out step-by-step. It was like trying to follow a melody in the middle of an orchestra, isolating notes that don't belong.
My foot got caught in dirt tracks and my head quickly fell to look at them.
"Look at the dirt right here," I said. The pavement was cracked and littered with debris, but among the chaos were faint smudges of ash-gray powder. "Doesn't belong."
"And...?" her tone was skeptical, but she crouched and examined the dirt anyway.
"It's residue from concrete reinforcement." I crouched beside her, brushing my fingers against it. "Like some kind of high-end facilities or... specialized labs. You don't find this on regular streets. Someone carried it here. Maybe on their boots."
She stood and dusted off her hands, her frown deepening. "That's a long shot." She didn't press any further, though her gaze did linger on me. She was doubting me, not in my competence, it was something else, I think it was how I spotted that out.
... I can hear something.
I put my hands to my ears and point over to the motionless train ahead of us. "You hear that?" I tilted my head to hear the sound of a light hum, it was faint but distinct and rhythmic, almost like... breathing.
sounds bouncing between the long cart of the train, "Someone's in there."
She studied me again, this time longer. "You're certain?" She asked.
"Yes."
We moved carefully, our steps were silent, no echo was left. The trains interior was a graveyard of forgotten bags, overturned seats, and a strange odor clinging to the air. We went through one car, and then another. And then the distinct breathing was finally heard.
And then a ruffling and the pops and cracks of someone just relieving their joints.
Then we saw him.
He stood at the far end of the train car, silhouetted by the dying light filtering through the fractured glass. The world seemed to hold it's breath as our eyes fell on him. Tall and broad-shouldered, his stance exuded a quiet, unshakable confidence. His dark coat hung heavy around him, the edges frayed, and a scarf coiled loosely around his neck.
His silver hair gleamed faintly, like the edge of a blade catching light, framing his face that was both striking and inscrutable. Eyes like smoldering coals burned with a feral intensity that seemed to pierce through steel itself, they locked on to us.
He stood like a wolf atop of a hill, watching it's prey below.
I felt a sharp tug in my stomach, it didn't hurt or anything. It was as if I was being alerted to something.
"I'm guessing," I started keeping Nagant's figure in my periphery. "that's Nine."
Nine tilted his head, his expression was impassive but unnervingly aware.
"That damn rule." he started. "It just brought me unwanted attention." He was most likely speaking of the rule that we added to help us find who held the artifacts.
"Do you mind handing it over," I said, "After that, we'll be out of your hair and giving you none of our attention."
He chuckles dryly. "No, I like this game. It provides opportunities for those strong enough to seize them. Why should I waste my time delivering artifacts when I can use this arena to grow stronger?"
I stepped forward slightly. "And what do you plan to do in this little sandbox, play king fish?"
Nine's gaze shifted to me, sharp and probing. "Not king... just a survivor. Survival of the fittest, it's the only truth that matters. That's why I was given so much power."
"Given?" Nagant asked suspiciously.
"Yeah." I flinched at the tone he was using, it felt slimy. "I met a cool doctor and his friend, they gave me power, enough to continue living to meet my goal of seeing a society where the strong stay on top, and get rid of the notion of heroes and villains."
Getting rid of heroes and villains, what would society look like then?
"I used to hunt a man who believes that strength alone is the only thing that can reshape the world." Nagant started, her rifle was poised and pointed at Nine's head. "His name was All For One."
I never heard the name before. But Nine looked a little surprised at her mentioning him.
She carried on. "He was a man who could steal quirks."
Stealing quirks? That was something new. Something that could change the way people see quirks. But someone like that, there hasn't been any news about someone like that.
"Was?" Nine asked in a taunting tone. "He still is, don't go thinking him dead for some untold reason."
"Right, I misspoke. The time I was sent after him, he vanished, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake."
"Yep, but even though he's not dead, he's a relic of the past. Time to start looking forward." he took a step closer, his boots scraping faintly on the train's metal floor. "You're quirks are intriguing. But yours..." His gaze lingered on me. "your's will be incredibly useful from what I've seen."
???Has he been watching me?
Every instinct in me screamed to prepare. "Sorry, I'm not in the business of donations."
Nine's tone elevated. "I wasn't asking."
The air shifted. A low rumble echoed outside, the trains windows rattling as dark clouds swirled into being. Lightning flashed, illuminating his face in a sudden burst of pale light.
"Stay sharp." Nagant hissed, "This isn't going to be easy."
The storm roared to life, wind whipping through the shattered windows as Nine raised a hand, the air around him crackling with raw energy.
And then he struck.
The storm was alive, bending to Nine's will as bolts of lightning tore through the train, searing metal and shattering debris.
I dove to the side, rolling under a collapsing seat as a bolt struck where I'd been standing. The air was thick with ozone, sharp and electric.
Nagant fired, her rifle a symphony of precision. Her bullets curved mid-flight, weaving through the chaos toward Nine. He raised a shimmering barrier of air, her shots ricocheting harmlessly off it's surface.
"Is that all?" Nine's voice cut through the storm. He raised his arm and wind surged in response. Shards of metal, shattered glass, and loose debris became missiles that hurled toward us with a deadly speed.
I flicked my wrist, the paper in my hand unraveling into a long a ribbon that coiled around the incoming shrapnel. With a sharp tug, I redirected the pieces, sending them spiraling toward Nine like a swarm of jagged wasps. They clattered against his barrier, rippling it's surface but failing to penetrate.
Nine extended another hand summoning a vortex of wind that spiraled outward. The sheer force of it knocked over seats, tore apart the remaining windows, and sent me skidding across the train's floor.
Nagant fired again, the crack of her rifle echoing through the wreckage. Her bullet struck the vortex, the force dissipating just enough for her to dart to higher ground. She perched on a half collapsed luggage rack, steadying her rifle with practised ease.
"Keep him busy!" she called out to me.
Busy? No problem, I thought bitterly. I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the pain that lanced through my ribs. My fingers moved quickly, folding a sheet of paper into a razor edged fan. With a flick of my wrist, I sent it slicing through the air toward Nine.
The storm around him shifted, the winds bending unnaturally to shield him. The fan veered off course, embedding itself harmlessly into a wall. Nine's dreary tone grated against my nerves.
"This is your resistance?" he sneered, raising both hands. The storm surged in response, a massive lightning bolt arcing towards me.
I dropped low, slamming my palms to the floor. A barrier of paper erupted around me, thick layers folding over each other in rapid succession. The lightning struck with a deafening crack, the force sending shockwaves through my shield. The paper held, but barely; wisps of smoke curled from it's edges as I collapsed it back into sheets, scattering them around me like fallen leaves.
Nagant took advantage of the distraction, her next shot aimed at Nine's exposed side. He turned just in time, his barrier shimmering to deflect the projectile. The bullet ricocheted, this time embedding itself to the ceiling with a dull thud.
"You can't outlast me." Nine growled, his voice losing some of it's earlier composure. The storm intensified, wind howling again, through the train car like a wounded beast. "I am evolution. You are nothing but relics clinging to outdated ideals."
So many people have their own idea of what the future should look like, and as soon as it pops into their heads, they immediately rush to it. It's so fucking stupid.
"You look just like another wannabe dictator with a flashy quirk." I shot back.
He thrust his hand forward, and a concentrated blast of wind shot toward me like a cannon. I leaped to the side, twisting mid-air as I flung a volley of sharpened paper shards. They struck his barrier again, the impact leaving ripples that spread across it's surface. Nagant's shots followed, each one timed perfectly to exploit the disruption.
One bullet found it's mark, grazing Nine's shoulder. He staggered slightly, his coat tearing as blood seeped through the fabric. His eyes burned with rage.
"You'll regret that." he snarled. He raised both his hands, and the storm converged around him, forming a massive vortex that stretched from floor to ceiling. Lightning crackled within it, arcs of raw energy dancing along it's edges.
"Stay sharp!" Nagant yelled, repositioning herself for a better angle.
The vortex surged toward me, a wall of destructive force. I planted my feet, focusing on the sheets of paper I left scattered around me. They lifted into the air, forming a massive, rotating shield that met that vortex head-on. The impact sent vibrations up my arms, the sheer power of his attack threatening to overwhelm me.
"Persistence will not save you." Nine growled.
"It'll at least make accomplishing your goal a lot harder for you." I retorted, tightening my grip on the swirling mass of paper.
Nagant fired again, her bullet piercing the center of the vortex. The storm wavered, it's intensity faltering as Nine struggled to maintain control. I seized the opportunity, releasing the paper shield and sending the individual sheets flying towards him. they wrapped around his limbs, binding him in place for a crucial moment.
"Now!" I shouted.
Nagant didn't hesitate. Her rifle cracked, the bullet slicing through the air and striking Nine square in the chest. His barrier collapsed with a shattering sound before becoming seamless and merging with the air.
He staggered, blood dripping from the wound as he glared at us with wild eyes. I moved in, the paper around me coiling into a whip that lashed out, binding his arms and forcing him to the ground. He thrashed against the restraints, his fury palpable.
"You think this will end here?" he hissed, his voice was venomous.
"No," I replied, tone cold. "but it ends for you."
Nagant's rifle clicked, the barrel trained on his head. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, final and unyielding.
And with that, the storm fell.
"Check his pockets for the USB."
I crouched down, ignoring the blood forming as well as the distant sound of her Bug announcing her points.
I dug around in his pockets, which were very deep might I add. And eventually I grabbed hold of it. Pulling it out, the first thing I noticed was the leaf design outlined on the small black device.
"Got it..." I said, finally feeling myself calm down.
Nine was saying some interesting stuff, and I wanted to learn more about this quirk transferring he was talking about, I learned of something similar within the Eden Project.
"Great. now lets get it to-" Nagant's voice was cut by the Bug, but instead of the usual monotony that came out, it was the playful and exhilarated Daigo Kiyoshi.
"{New Objective. I have dropped a replica of All Might in the games. You don't even need to place the artifacts in their placeholders anymore, all you need to do is Survive All Might!}"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Game Finale: Objective, survive All Might.
In this mode of the game, a fake All Might is dropped into Hosu City with the programs to kill all players. In any scene within the city, he will always strike the players with the highest point total first and work his way down.
This game mode will only be active for
One hour.
Players points are frozen in this time and cannot be spent. All transactions are disabled.
The replica is of course designed to mimic the real hero's strength, speed and his experience.
The clock is ticking.
Player must do their best to survive!
____In a chamber deep beneath the earth, All For One, his pale withered face covered by a mask, tilted his head slightly to the monitor in the room. He was a little dumbstruck when he seen the announcement of the final game.
All Might. A paragon of power, the only foe he has had to best him in a battle of pure unfiltered power. And that was only slightly. There weren't many people in that game, alive or dead, that would even be able to take a full powered hit from him and come out alive.
Across the room, Dr. Kyudai Garaki adjusted his glasses, the feint glow of the monitor reflecting off his bald head.
"Daigo Kiyoshi," the doctor muttered, there was a slight tinge of disdain in his voice. "This child has gone far beyond our expectations. To add this of all things... This is reckless." The doctor trailed, shaking his head.
All For One's voice, smooth yet dripping with malice, broke through the hum. "It is... unsavory. Turning the symbol of peace into a butcher is poetic in a way, but this will thin the herd more than I'd prefer."
Garaki nodded empathetically. "Precisely. Tomura has surprisingly made new allies to add to the league, their powers are of interest too. They're needed to be kept intact. This game's final act is nothing short of a massacre in the making. The odds of survival for most players are... negligible."
A small chuckle rumbled from All For One. "And yet, isn't it amusing? The great Daigo Kiyoshi created his own downfall by overplaying his hand. A majority of the players will die, that may also include my dear apprentice."
"And you allow it?" The doctor asked, his voice tinged with frustration.
"I allow it because I am a little idealistic when it comes to Tomura. His growth and drive will not let him die here. Those who survive this crucible will be sharpened into weapons of unparalleled strength." His tone darkened.
Garaki shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the screen as Nagant was who All Might chose to attack first. A smash of his was narrowly avoided and was enough to level an entire block. Since killing Nine, her point totalled at: 334.
"Her odds?" the doctor asked.
All For One chuckled again, low and sinister. "Oh, she's resourceful and has a powerful ally. But even so, the replica will likely break her. As for Tomura, his new... allies may prove him useful. Or they will crumble and die in front of him, his hate will then grow. Either outcome serves my purpose."
____The announcement crackled through the air, unmistakeably urgent. Midoriya's head snapped up, his heart pounding as the words echoed his mind:
Survive All Might. His throat tightened as he glanced at his group.
Todoroki's mismatched eyes hid a glint of worry. Tokoyami's shadow flickered anxiously, mirroring the tension in the air. Yayoyorozu, ever so composed, gripped the hilt of her makeshift weapon tighter. Uraraka went pale, the two class B girls exchanged grim looks with each other, while their male counterparts clenched their fists and widening their eyes in fear.
Fat Gum's presence loomed over them, his presence was a grounding force.
They had just been planning their next move, ready to track down Tomura Shigaraki to collect the artifact off of him and find a way out of the game. But this changed everything. All they had to do was survive All Might for an hour.
That is most certainly a worse situation than finding artifacts. A fake All Might, a replica. Midoriya thought that maybe it was weaker, but with everything they were all finding out about Daigo Kiyoshi's quirk, he can create copies with the more data he collects of things and even people.
'So now he can create copies of people.' That told Midoriya that he must have had contact with the number 1 hero. 'Did they arrest him?'
No. He doubted that Daigo would have been able to do this if he was caught by All Might or other heroes.
Midoriya's mind raced. The tremors in the ground reached them before they even felt the gust of winds that came after. The feint, rhythmic thudding sent shivers up his spine. All Might's punches. Each impact reverberated through the city like a heartbeat of destruction.
"We need to move," Fat Gum said, his voice low but firm. "If that thing's as strong as the real All Might, we can't afford to be anywhere near it."
"Move, where?" Midoriya asked coldly. His voice was sharper than intended, and it caught the group off guard. "We don't even know who it's after yet."
"It would be after Lady Nagant, she's at the top now. And that doesn't matter." Fat Gum said with a tone of authority. "What matters is keeping you kids safe. Stay behind me—"
"Stop treating us like children." Midoriya's words cut through the air like a knife. His green eyes burned, his usual warmth replaced by a chilling resolve and his tone hardened and stilled everyone else listening. "Children don't survive what we've been through these last two weeks. Children don't fight villains and watch people die."
Fat Gum hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if to protest, but he couldn't find the words.
"We're not kids anymore." Midoriya continued, his tone icy. "If we don't act, people will die. Nagant, even though she is labelled a villain now, she was a hero. And if she dies, then how many are next before he eventually reaches us."
All of them had points on the lower end of the table, but that didn't matter. All Might was fast enough to leap from one end of the city to the other, with the power to kill almost everyone with one or two solid hits along the way.
Todoroki stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Midoriya's right. We need a plan."
Midoriya nodded, his mind already forming strategies. But before he could speak, the air around them shifted. A deafening
whoosh roared past, sending dust and debris spiralling. They barely had time to react before a gust of wind threw them off their feet.
Mid-air, Midoriya's panicking spewed out. "We were that... close?"
All Might landed with a thunderous stomp as his two feet crashed into the ground.
The replica was perfect. Every detail, from the golden locks of hair to the confident smile, was an exact mimicry of the real thing. But there was no warmth in his eyes, only cold, calculated purpose.
"Scatter!" Fat Gum shouted, but it was too late. A punch into the open air from All Might sent a shockwave ripping through the air, and they were all lifted off the ground.
Midoriya's heart leaped into his throat as he felt himself rise. He braced himself for impact, but instead, he landed gently atop a floating paper plane. He looked around to see the others similarly carried, the planes splitting them apart. His eyes darted to the source: Kobe Arakawa.
"Kobe," Midoriya muttered. He stared at the determined expression. Todoroki's voice reached him.
"That's him right?" Todoroki asked. "The one who helped us fight Stain."
He nodded and he seen Kendo's eyes take on a darker look again, like it had only a couple days before when speaking on Kobe. He ignored it again, it was an unnecessary thought to ponder on now.
Midoriya's plane dipped suddenly, giving him a clear view of the battlefield. Lady Nagant was below, her rifle trained on All Might. Kobe floated around her, his hands weaving through the air as more planes formed, carrying civilians away from the area and from under the rubble and debris.
Midoriya didn't hesitate. He jumped from his plane, landing hard on the ground and charging toward All Might. His mind screamed at him to stop, to think, but he couldn't. He thought he was ready for this.
But how could he.
As soon as he seen the copy in front of him, his mind shattered. It looked like All Might, his power was like his mentor's, and even his smile.
But it wasn't. It was wrong. All so wrong, so perverse and looking at the sick and twisted form in front of him that walked around like his teacher,......It sickened him to his core.
'I have to stop it.'
"Izuku wait!" Uraraka's voice called out, but it was drowned by the roar of wind as All Might's fist missed Nagant who conveniently slipped on a piece of paper.
But as she twisted out of the way again another hit was being geared in her direction.
'Stop It!' Midoriya replicated the movement as he got in the air.
'Detroit....' He was right above the fake mentor now, using much more than just 5% of his power. '...SMASH!'
He swung down feeling the force in his bone, but his arm wasn't broken, not yet.
His fist didn't connect, All Might moved out of the way in the blink of an eye and was standing straight with his fists clenched and that same smile on his face.
Midoriya raised his hands up to block, but all he received was a gust of wind as All Might rushed past him and finally got a hit off at Nagant, one that was blocked by a wall of paper. But it wasn't enough, the punch connected and Nagant went flying through two skyscrapers behind her, not dead but not getting back up for a while.
Next he went for... Kobe.
Midoriya seen Kobe duck and worm away from All Might's initial two strikes using his quirk in a way he had never seen before like turning into a paper thing version of himself and getting his creations to drag him out of the way.
Midoriya hopped back into action, he threw another punch at the fake All Might, but he missed again, so he continued. But he noticed something.
The fake All Might wouldn't attack him back. He dodged and evaded all of Midoriya's attacks and never struck back.
'Why?'
His mind was going through the reasons why it could be so. Does this replica not recognize his power? No, that couldn't be it. He only focuses on one at a time... points.
The game that Daigo set made it so that the fake All Might would attack players from highest to lowest level of points.
Nagant isn't dead though, then maybe it was a restriction. Midoriya wondered if Daigo meant for that to be an outcome.
But from the way he saw it, it went like this. The fake All Might can't attack someone with a lower amount of points in an area if he hasn't at least attacked someone with a higher amount. And if someone with a lower level of points were to get in the way, then his actions would stop and work solely on evading and dodging until he spots another chance to leap into action.
'All right. I can work with that.'
"Izuku!" He heard Uraraka's scream and his head snapped up, quick enough only to raise his fist and soften the blow of a hit from the symbol of peace. The strongest man in the world was now gunning to kill him.
Kobe?
Out of the corner of his eye, Midoriya could see that he was knocked out on the ground, maybe dead since there was a pool of blood forming beneath him.
'Shit!'
Midoriya had no time to curse—
Another hit, in his stomach, he could feel something break, just like he did to Stain.
He couldn't even think of a way to win. All Midoriya could do, was wallow in grief.
'You're not All Might!'... 'All Might wouldn't do this!'.... 'I don't want to die,' ... 'I'm scared... again,'.... 'STOP!'
His left arm was out it's socket, he doesn't know how many ribs All Might... No!... the fake All Might broke. His ears were ringing and he couldn't even hear his friends screaming for him.
'Run,' he wanted to tell them. But Midoriya felt broken. It hurt him to try and layer words on his vocals. And as he tried to open his mouth.
A earth shattering punch smacked him in the face spraying blood from a busted lip and broken nose on the ground beneath him.
He stumbled to the ground on his broken arm but couldn't even feel the pain.
'Everything hurts...' He thought to himself as his consciousness faded to black.
_____My head throbbed. It wasn't just a dull ache; It was sharp, relentless, like someone pounding a drum inside my skull.
Instinctively, my hand reached up, brushing against something wet and sticky. I didn't need to look to know what it was. Blood. The metallic tang in the air confirmed it, it's sharpness making my stomach churn.
But this smell, it was overwhelming, far too potent. I grimaced, a bitter thought cutting through the haze of pain:
How much blood did I lose?
Pushing past the discomfort, I forced myself upright. The scene before me was... horrific. My chest tightened as I took in the carnage around me, even as the faint tremors in the ground and the booms in the air reminded me why.
All Might.
He wasn't just fighting. He was tearing through everything in his path, or had done so. And he wasn't holding back.
Bodies surrounded me, blood pooling, lifeless limbs splayed in grotesque angles. It wasn't just the random carnage of a battlefield, there was precision in the devastation. They were only villains.
Some I recognized. Tengai's crushed body lay amidst the wreckage, his barriers clearly no match for this force. Yu Hojo, Shin Nemoto... their lifeless forms joined the bloodied sea. And there, amidst the gore, was remnants of a skull I was almost certain belonged to Rappa.
My stomach twisted, not just at the sight, but the memory. Last time I saw them, I learned that after I killed Overhaul, Miyu Ogawa had put them under her control and disappeared. Back when I was with Kendo and her group. Now they were scattered like broken dolls, their lives snuffed out with chilling, robotic effort.
Not all of them were dead, though. Some were clinging to life, their bodies heaving weakly, but the sheer scale of destruction, it was monstrous.
Of course it was.
This was All Might. Fake or not, it was All Might. The endgame.
I shouldn't even be here, standing in his wake. None of us should.
"How long do we have left...?" I muttered to no one, my voice hoarse, barely audible over the distant roars.
The Bug emerged, it's small, mechanical frame buzzing to life. Numbers flickered across it's display.
:27 minutes.
Too long. Far, far too long.
In the distance, I caught sight of All Might again, locked in combat with two enormous figures. One of them; towering and broad, was unmistakeably Rikiya Katsukame. His monstrous frame, rivaled All Might's own, but it was clear who held the upper hand. The other figure was Mimic, using an entire apartment complex as his cover. His shifting form attempting to ensnare All Might.
And riding on Rikiya's back, her laughter cutting through the chaos, was Miyu Ogawa. She was still in control. And even while facing All Might, she was calm... and crazy.
I tore my gaze away from them, forcing my legs to move. The carnage around me was suffocating, the coppery stench of blood clinging to the air. I folded a piece of paper to act as a cloth to cover my nose.
Stepping carefully over the bodies, I searched for those I knew personally and I was sure were alive.
Midoriya... and Nagant.
Midoriya was closest, his chest rising and falling faintly. His face was pale and bloody, smeared with dirt, but he was alive. I crouched down, hoisting him over my shoulder with a grunt.
Nagant wasn't far, but she looked worse. Her body was twisted at an awkward angle, her breathing shallow. The blow All Might dealt her... it was a miracle that she was still alive.
"Damn it," I hissed under my breath, panic seeping into my voice.
Nagant stirred awake as I approached, her eyes fluttering open. She wasn't fully conscious, but it was enough. Enough to remind me of the cold reality: She had the most points in this area. Much more than anyone else, I was next with 72.
If I was right, and I prayed I wasn't right, then All Might wouldn't waste his time with the other players. He'd come straight for her.
As if on cue, a deafening burst of air tore through the battlefield. I looked up, dread pooling in my stomach.
All Might.
He'd broken free from Rikiya and Mimic, his figure streaking through the sky like a missile. And he was headed straight for us.
"Shit." I cursed, scrambling to pull Nagant to her feet.
The air vibrated with the force of his approach, each step bringing him closer.
Unstoppable and unrelenting. This wasn't a hero. This was a calamity in human form. And we were directly in it's path.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
No reassuring presence. The clone of All Might towered over me, it's features were twisted, it's face wore a blank smile. His power was a harbinger of destruction. A puppet of violence. It didn't speak. It didn't need to. Every movement screamed...
DEATH!
I could feel the raw energy radiating off of it, the sheer pressure of it's existence suffocating the air around me. The ground cracked with a thunderous clap, debris flying everywhere with every move it made. I could almost feel the wind itself bending under it's weight.
I couldn't afford to think, to hesitate. My body moved of it's own accord, and instinctual reaction, honed through years of training and necessity. I had to act fast.
Had to think faster!
With a grunt, I hoisted both Nagant and Midoriya higher, my grip tightening around their injured forms. Nagant, barely conscious, her breathing ragged and shallow, was like dead weight in my arms. Midoriya, though awake, was in no better state, his injuries were severe. But I shouldn't let them die. I couldn't let them.
The clones fist shot towards me like a meteor falling from the heavens, and I saw it coming. It's strike was too swift. It would have been impossible to dodge, except for the fact I was already planning my next move. My mind surged, assessing angles and distances in the split-second before it collided.
Without a second thought I dropped down, rolling under the clones fist. Midoriya and Nagant stayed secure in my grip as I used the momentum of the roll to push them behind a pile of debris. I didn't look back. I couldn't afford to. I was already preparing for the next move, the next attack. The clone wasn't stopping. I guessed that Nagant faded back into unconsciousness since it was solely aiming for me.
Miyu and the people she placed under her control were nowhere to be found.
I couldn't worry about her. I knew that the moment I came up from my roll, it would be back. Every move, every step, every second. I could feel it, the weight of the air, the pull of the earth beneath me, the tension and the distance between me and the clone. The world slowed and my instincts took hold. I saw every option laid out in my mind, every possible way out, no matter how minute, every way to survive. And just like that, I saw it:
The Gap.
With a sharp inhale, I leapt into the air, flipping backward, narrowly avoiding another strike. The clone's fist smashed into the ground below me, the force of the blow cracking the earth beneath me. Rocks and rubble exploded into the air, but I didn't flinch. I was already focused on the ground in front of me, the trajectory of my next move, the debris I could use.
It was almost to easy. Too clean. I could see it in an instant.
The clone moved again, quicker this time. A swipe of it's arm came from the left, if I didn't move now, it would hit me, and I'd be crushed. I didn't have time to second-guess.
Left. I barely dodged, but the force of the wind pushed me sideways. I gritted my teeth. Midoriya's breath was ragged against my shoulder, and Nagant's grip on me was loose, barely holding on. I couldn't afford a slip up.
The clone followed, moving with terrifying precision. I could see the angle of it's next punch forming in the space between us, feel the shift in the air that predicted it's trajectory. But I wasn't just evading, I was outmaneuvering it, staying one step ahead, seeing it's next move before it happened and leaping distances away from him.
I was dodging blows from All Might within a hairs breath and using the debris he was cracking up to slow his punches down.
I shifted again, turning my heel, my fingers already weaving through the air. I didn't have much time to prepare, but I didn't need much. The properties of my papermaster surged and with a flick of my wrist, I summoned a wall of paper. It hardened as it formed, blocking the clone's next attack just in time. The paper shield cracked under the force, but it held, buying me the precious seconds I needed.
The clone recoiled for a moment, surprised at the resistance. It wasn't expecting this. It wasn't expecting me to be able to use the environment to my advantage. It tried to swipe again, but I wasn't waiting around. I moved as if I was already several steps ahead of it, throwing up more paper shields, each one more intricate than the last.
The clone lunged again, but this time I wasn't just defending, I was attacking, throwing paper blades in a flurry of motion. They cut through the air, aiming for the clone's face, the joints of it's body, anything that would slow it down. The blades couldn't pierce his skin, but they were distracting.
I couldn't let up. Not even for a second. The clone was fast, and if I wasn't careful, it's next attack could finish us all.
Suddenly, the temperature dropped. I felt it first in the air around me, the chill creeping over my skin, freezing the moisture in the air. My eyes darted to the side, and there he was, Shoto Todoroki, sliding into the battle with ice spiraling from his palms. His attack hit like a wall of cold, freezing the path behind me, trapping the clone's leg in a jagged lattice of ice.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The clone roared in frustration, thrashing against the ice, but it couldn't break free, not yet. The ice held it for just a second longer.
I didn't waste it. I dropped Midoriya and Nagant behind the rubble, checking them both quickly. Midoriya's breathing was shallow, but he was alive. Nagant, still alive. Her pulse was weak, but steady for now. They were safe.
I could hear engines revving as someone shot towards our scene. It was Ingenium, no, a family member, he appeared at my side in a flash. Without a word, he grabbed Midoriya and Nagant, lifting them both effortlessly with his enhanced speed.
"Soryu! You need to get out of here! NOW!" he called as he turned to run, his feet kicking up the dust with each burst of speed.
I glanced back at the frozen path, my mind already working overtime. I could run with them, stay hidden, regroup. But that wouldn't be enough. The clone was still chasing. And it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
No.
I wasn't going to run.
I had a crazy idea, but it was my best shot. It was something I had rarely done before and only on myself. But I could do it again.
With a deep breath, I turned back toward the frozen path and focused. Papermaster, come to life once more. I reached out and pulled fibers together, shaping them with my mind. I was moving quickly, but I had to be precise. I had to duplicate the duplicate.
I had already met the conditions.
My fingers danced through the air as the paper took shape. I poured every bit of my focus into the clone's replication, using the original's momentum and strength against itself. The paper shifted, molded, formed into a perfect copy of the All Might clone. The same ripping muscles, the same towering figure, and the same destructive physical power I had experienced.
The only difference was colour, my All Might clone was a stark pristine white, white as paper and it seemed to shine under the sun's radiance.
And then, the clone broke free of Todoroki's ice, it's rumble shaking the very air around me. It turned, seeing me, but it didn't see the second one coming.
I took a deep breath. I would hold this clone for the short duration I could.
That's when I heard it... the sound of a figure crashing into the battlefield from above.
Her powerful legs slammed into the ground, sending a shockwave of force through the earth.
I almost didn't believe it. There she was, Mirko, a blur of powerful motion. She landed gracefully, crouched low, before shooting up into a perfect standing position. She didn't hesitate, didn't waste a single second.
"Been looking for that bastard." she muttered, her eyes glowing with a fiery intensity that matched the chaos around her. "The All Might replica, huh? I've been wanting to square up to the number 1."
She spotted me, her gaze locking onto mine. She gave a half grin, probably remembering me from our small interaction a week ago.
"You looked wiped. You don't mind if I join in, do you?"
I didn't have time to respond. The clone of All Might—my copy, my creation—charged forward, fists raised high ready to throw down. Mirko didn't need any more invitation that that. She dashed forward, her legs a blur of power as she leaped to meet the oncoming attack.
"Let's see how you handle this!" she yelled.
I didn't respond but I knew what had to be done. The clone was mine to control, and forced to stick near, I could already feel the strain. Every movement it made, I was controlling it, but at the same time, I was pushing my own abilities to their limits. The paper, the fibers—it was all fragile in comparison to the sheer strength of the All Might clone. I had five minutes before my copy would disappear.
Not enough time, but I would do everything to try and kill it.
Mirko dove into the fight with reckless abandon, using her legs like weapons of war. She aimed a series of devastating kicks directly at the clone's chest, each one powerful enough to send it staggering backwards. Her speed was a blur, too fast for the clone to react properly, and it found itself on the defensive for the first time in the fight.
I used the opportunity to send the white All Might replica surging forward, fists hammering into the air like lightning strikes. Each blow was a force of nature, it's power coming from my control but magnified by the sheer form of the copy.
The game's All Might replica blocked Mirko's powerful legs with ease and answered with it's own heavy strikes, trying to crush her with the force of it's fists.
Mirko danced away, her movements swift, precise, and filled with grit. "You've got some tricks, huh? But this things still got a hell of a punch."
I didn't waste time responding. I could see it in the my clones movements—it wasn't a perfect copy. There were gaps, weaknesses in the way it moved, in it's timing. I had to use my own creativity to guide it, to push it into angles where it could land a hit while staying out of harms way.
Mirko was quick and incredibly strong, I was almost a little scared that she wouldn't be able to keep up. I was probably holding her back somewhat. I had to change tactics.
But the replica was already making it's own decision. With a silent roar, it slammed it's fist down at the ground, sending shockwaves through the earth, and it dove in with a devastating leap, hoping to crush Mirko.
I cursed under my breath.
Five Minutes.
The white All Might was already showing signs of cracking—pieces of the paper were beginning to fray and disintegrate with each movement. I could feel the strain on my body, my quirk pushing against it's limits. Every attack, every dodge, every movement—it was all weighing down on me.
Then the replica's fist came down—right towards Mirko's position. She was quick, but not quick enough. The punch landed, the sheer force of the blow sending her spiraling across the battlefield. She slammed into the ground, rolling across the concrete before coming to a halt.
Mirko gritted her teeth, blood dripping from her lip as pushed herself up. "Is that all you got?" she spat, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She was starting to slow down.
I wasn't doing any better. My head pounded, sweat dripped into my eyes, and my arms felt like they'd been holding up the world. The pristine white clone stood tall.
Mirko leapt forward again, closing the distance between her and the games replica. Her legs were a blur of raw, explosive power as she unleashed a flurry of devastating kicks. Each strike was precise, aiming at joints, weak spots, anywhere that might cause the giant to falter. The sound of her attacks echoed like gunshots, but the clone met her with matching force. It raised an arm, blocking her next kick with it's forearm, the impact sending out a shockwave that cracked the pavement beneath their feet.
"Come one!" she roared, twisting mid-air to drive her other leg into the side of it's head. The blow landed, sending the replica staggering sideways, but it caught itself, it's massive fists smashing into the ground to steady it's balance. The sheer power of the movement sent debris flying, pelting me and everything around with sharp fragments of concrete.
I gritted my teeth, channeling everything I had into keeping my clone upright. My mind raced, searching for openings, for ways to counter Mirko's relentless barrage while keeping my clone's movements fluid.
"Stop playing so defensive!" the rabbit hero yelled at me, her voice cutting through the chaos. "If you're gonna fight, then fight!"
I didn't reply. Talking felt like it would take energy I couldn't spare. Instead, I focused, guiding the clone to drive it's fist forward in a wide, sweeping arc. The air whizzed with the force of the blow as the massive hand slammed down toward her. She dodged, just barely, her body twisting into a low crouch. The ground where she had stood erupted into a crater, but she didn't hesitate. With a burst of speed, she vaulted over the replica's arm and landed on it's shoulder.
The replica roared in frustration, it's massive hand swinging upward to grab her. Mirko, quick as ever, leapt again, flipping backward in mid-air before driving both legs downward in a brutal double kick to the replica's head. The impact made the entire battlefield shudder as the replica's head snapped forward, and for a moment I thought she might actually take it down.
But it didn't fall.
The All Might replica straightened, unyielding. It's golden glow burned brighter, as if mocking us, and it retaliated with a swaying punch aimed directly at Mirko. My paper clone intercepted, throwing itself in the path of the blow. The white All Might then surged forward, slamming it's shoulder into the replica's chest and driving it backward with raw power. Dust and debris exploded into the air as the two titans collided.
Mirko landed lightly next to me, her breathing uneven as she wiped the blood from her chin. "Not bad kid." she said with a weary grin. "But your paper hero's starting to come apart isn't it?"
She was right. My paper clone was unravelling. The strain of holding it together was like fire in my veins, each movement pulling more energy from me than the last. It's edges frayed, and tiny pieces of paper flaked off with every punch, scattering into the wind like snow. I could feel it—the fight wasn't going to last much longer.
But that didn't mean I was giving up.
"Lets finish it before that happens." I growled, pushing every ounce of focus into controlling the clone. It surged forward, it's fists flying in a relentless barrage of strikes. The All Might replica countered, blocking and deflecting with ease, but I wasn't aiming for a clean hit. Just needed to limit it's options.
Mirko took the opening without hesitation. She dashed in low, her legs a blur as she unleashed a rapid series of kicks at the replica's knees and lower joints. The force of her blows cracked the reinforced surface of it's body, sending faint spiderweb fractures rippling across it's legs.
"Keep it up!" I let out, directing my clone to follow her lead. The white All Might feinted high, it's massive fist swinging toward the replica's head before pulling back at the last second. The real blow came from it's knee, slamming into the replica's side with enough force to send it stumbling.
For a moment, it looked like we had the upper hand. The All Might replica wavered, it's movements slowing as it struggled to keep up with our combined assault. Mirko's relentless speed and my clone's overwhelming strength were wearing it down.
But then, everything changed.
The replica roared, it's first and only sound since spawning, the roar was so powerful it shook the very air. It's body glowed brighter, cracks sealing themselves as if it's strength was renewing. It surged with impossible speed, catching Mirko mid-attack with a backhanded swing that sent her flying. She hit the ground hard, tumbling through the rubble before coming to a stop.
My mind went blank. Mirko was down, no time to check on her. The replica was already turning it's sights to my paper clone, and I could feel it's power bearing down on me like a physical weight.
The two giants clashed again, their fists colliding with a force that sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield. My clone pushed with everything it had, it's paper body straining as it matched the replica blow for blow. But I could feel it unravelling faster now, each hit pulling it closer to it's breaking point.
"Hold it together," I muttered through clenched teeth, forcing myself to ignore the fire in my chest. "Just a little longer..."
But the inevitable came too soon.
My clone's movements slowed, it's punches becoming sluggish as it's body started to collapse. The pristine white paper that made up it's form crumbled piece by piece, until it froze mid-strike. For one agonizing second, it stood there, defiant even in it's final moments.
And then it fell apart.
The All Might replica wasted no time. It turned towards me, it's glowing eyes locking onto mine as it charged. I barely had a moment to react before it's massive fist came down.
Mirko's voice cut through the chaos, "Move kid!"
I stumbled backward, throwing myself out of the way as the fist crashed into the ground where I'd been standing. The impact sent me sprawling, and I felt the air leave my lungs as I hit the ground hard.
I forced myself up, pain shooting through every part of my body. Mirko was already back on her feet, bloodied but standing tall, her eyes blazing with excitement and determination.
I tried to step forward to meet her halfway, but as I moved, it felt like my ears burst, I was slowly keeling over in pain, but I couldn't even do that... the replica's fist swung toward me. I tried to dodge but my body wouldn't cooperate. The blow connected, and the world exploded into pain. I felt my body lift off the ground, the impact crushing the air from my lungs as I was thrown backward.
The ground rushed up to meet me. And everything went black.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Yuki Arakawa sat in the corner of of the new dorms common area, her arms folded across her chest, her face a mask of calm. The third year UA student was perched on the edge of the central couch sat beside her classmate Nejire Hado.
Yuki's sharp purple eyes were fixed on the tablet in her hands, the glow from the screen painted her oak brown face in the faint blue light as she tapped the play button.
Nejire leaned forward, her wavy, azure hair spilling over her shoulders, her usually vibrant and bubbly demeanour now subdued. Tamaki Amajiki sat on the floor near the coffee table, half-hidden in shadows, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, he had stayed quiet as they discussed what they had stumbled on.
"I still think this is a bad idea," Amajiki murmured, casting a worried glance at Yuki. "It's illegal to watch these unless we're working on that case. If we get caught..."
"We won't," Yuki said curtly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "The network we're using masks our activity. Focus!"
Nejire's gaze darted between the two. She knew why Yuki was using any means necessary to know what was going on within the game any chance she got. So did Amajiki and Mirio and a handful of people from their class.
So they felt bad trying to talk her out of it.
The faint hum of static faded. The broadcast finally opened with a panoramic view of proxy's game world: A near perfect copy of Hosu city.
The camera feed was still, almost nothing was going on in the first feed she was on, just gusts of wind. That was until she changed over to the center of it all and where all the commotion was ongoing.
The towering figure of All Might, looking slightly bigger and more menacing. He stood amidst the ruins of a street, his smile sick and twisted with blood splattered on his face. Around him, bodies littered the ground. The camera panned, and Yuki's stomach tightened when she recognized some of the faces.
Mirko, her right arm hanging limply by her sides as she struggled to rise. Lady Nagant, at a distance, struggling to get herself up and her torso seemed twisted as blood was coming from her mouth like a drain had burst. And Kobe... her brother.
Yuki's facade faltered for the briefest moment. Her breath caught, and her grip on the tablet tightened. He looked different, but it was even harder to tell under all the blood matting his figure. But there was no mistaking him.
On the screen, All Might lunged, his fist crashing into the ground with earth-shattering force. The impact sent shockwaves through the street, scattering left arm broke free from a makeshift cast and was dangling uselessly, while his right flared with energy. He launched himself into the air, aiming a punch at the number 1 hero's head, only for him to catch him mid-strike and slam him into the ground.
"What's going on?" Nejire sounded, panicked. "Why is All Might..."
She was cut off by Amajiki... "It's not All Might. It was just broadcasted on the news that Daigo Kiyoshi created a replica of All Might while he was nearly caught today and sent him in as a final boss."
The two girls couldn't hide their shock, their fear at what they believed was coming. Nejire gripped Yuki's shoulders and pulled her in.
"They're barely hanging on. How will they survive?"
Yuki's eyes narrowed as she stared at the screen. Her brother, her dumb and angry little brother. He was pummeled to the ground by All Might but a few moments later got back up again.
He's going to die. The wicked thought popped into her mind.
But how could she not believe it. She didn't even know how strong Kobe was. She was just hoping. She was hoping he would have been far from the danger, that he wasn't even in the game, that he just came back home with that same bright eyed look he had when they were younger.
He didn't... when he came back a year ago, his eyes never held that same radiance, he was never excited to show her something new that he had learned. He didn't seem to care about anything... His eyes always looked past her, even when their gazes locked, it was like he was looking much farther away, to a world she couldn't envision, in those cold, dead eyes.
How will they survive? That was what Nejire had asked.
Yuki did not know.
_____(Flashback - Midoriya)
The first sensation Midoriya registered was pain—a searing, all-consuming fire running down his shattered arm.
His eyes blinked open, dazed and unfocused. The world was a swirling haze of grays and muted sounds, but the urgency in his heart pushed through the fog like a hammer striking glass.
He saw Todoroki and Iida crouched over him. Todoroki's mismatched eyes were hard, his jaw was set in a familiar line of concern, while Iida's trembling hands hovered near Midoriya's useless limb, whether to touch him or keep back.
"Midoriya!" Iida's voice was a near-bark but his panic broke through. "You need to stop moving—you'll make the pain worse!"
Midoriya's teeth gritted against the pain. "No. We don't have time. My arm... it doesn't matter. We have to make sure we can save as many people as we can."
"You've lost too much blood, Midoriya, just let me—"
"We're dying here, Iida!" Midoriya shot back, his voice hoarse but unrelenting. Tears gathered at the edges of his green eyes, his desperation dripping from every syllable. "Please. If I can still stand, I can still fight. I am Champion." He did his best to give off a smile, a smile like the real All Might would, even in this situation.
Iida recoiled, his mouth opening in protest, but Midoriya turned to Todoroki. "You understand right? Todoroki... we don't win this if I'm out. I'm not asking you to agree with me. I'm asking for your help."
Todoroki's gaze met his—a cold, assessing stare that burned hotter than any flame he could conjure. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, with a sharp inhale, Todoroki nodded. "Hold still."
Iida paled, his hands clenching into helpless fists. "This is insanity..."
But Midoriya braced himself, his good hand slapping against his thigh as Todoroki's freezing touch met his ruined arm. Ice met his ruined arm. Ice formed along the edges of his shattered limb to numb him. And then...
CRACK.
The scream that tore from Midoriya's throat was something primal—a sound that came from the core of a man who had tasted pain too many times to fear it but still felt it's blade. Iida looked away, his breath shuddering, but Todoroki never flinched.
When it was done, Midoriya collapsed back onto the ground, sweat slicking his face and neck, his breath ragged. But his arm was set. A makeshift brace of Todoroki's ice and Iida's torn costume now held it in place.
"Midoriya..." Iida's voice cracked with frustration, shame and guilt. "There's no honour in this. You're destroying yourself."
Midoriya's chuckle was weak, barely audible. "Iida... there is no honour in dying without trying."
***Darkness swallowed me whole.
It wasn't peaceful or still; it was roaring, suffocating, like the void itself was trying to erase me. My thoughts scattered like ashes in a storm, my mind screaming into the black, And then...
My eyes snapped open.
The world hit me in a flash of colour and motion—blinding. I was mid-air, weightless, flung like a broken puppet by a force I couldn't comprehend. All Might's blow had caught me square in the chest. Time twisted cruelly, stretching the milliseconds into eternities.
The breath was ripped from my lungs, and my back hit solid stone—hard. The sound was monstrous, a thunderous crack that echoed through the ruined cityscape. Pain erupted in my ribs, bright and white-hot. I crumpled to the ground, every nerve in my body shrieking at once.
But before the killing blow came—before the sky could fall upon me—there was a sharp, familiar
crack. A bullet sliced through the air.
The All Might clone jerked sideways, dodging by reflex as the shot clipped his temple.
'Nagant.'
She sat across the field, slumped against a pile of rubble like a broken marionette. Her left arm hung uselessly, shattered beyond recognition. Her torso was twisted in a way no human body should endure, and yet her rifle was steady. The barrel smoking from the last shot.
Her position looked impossible. Uncomfortable. Yet her focus never wavered.
"Move." she rasped, her voice like gravel against glass. "Get up."
"MOVE KID!" She snapped.
A shadow flashed past me—Mirko. Her grin was feral, her right arm dangling limp at her side, the bones likely pulverized. And yet she moved like a hurricane, her remaining fist slamming into the replica's jaw with enough force to shake the ground.
But ti wasn't enough.
The clone hardly budged. He reached out to swat Mirko aside—
Ice.
A jagged wall of frost erupted beneath the clones feet, freezing his ankle in place. Todoroki stood in the wreckage, his breath a visible mist in the air, flames licking at his other side, ready to counter.
A green blur flew past me, Midoriya.
He struck the clone hard, a full-power kick to the back of it's knee. The air screamed from the impact, shockwaves rolling outward like a bomb had gone off. Midoriya hit the ground in a roll, sweat and blood dripping from his face.
"Hit and Run!" He shouted.
Iida burst forward next, his engines roaring to life. He ducked low, grabbed Mirko, and dragged her out of the clone's range just before it's massive fist shattered the earth where she'd stood.
Todoroki's ice froze the ground beneath the replica again, buying us seconds—only seconds. But seconds were enough.He went further, already moving again, his ice unfurling like a silver tide across the fractured ground, weaving an intricate maze of frozen barriers to slow the replica's pursuit. Frost clung to the air, the bitter cold seeping into the cracks of this ruined section of the city.
My vision blurred as I pulled myself to my knees, my body groaning in protest. Each breath was a struggle, shallow and ragged. Blood pooled beneath me, sticky against the torn fabric of my clothing.
Paper swirled around me in erratic spirals, summoned by sheer willpower. Every movement sent daggers of pain through my body, but I forced my trembling hands to work. My quirk flared, the swirling vortex growing dense and purposeful.
The design came to me in fragments, a broken melody pieced together by desperation. It was no ordinary weapon—it was destruction incarnate. A Mark VI aerial bomb. Massive. Detailed. The kind of weapon that could obliterate not just a monster, but a cityscape.
"Is that a... bomb?" Todoroki shouted, his voice carrying both awe and dread as the structure of the massive creation took shape above me. It's silhouette hung in the air like a harbinger of death, jagged and menacing, it's sharp edges gleaming against the broken skyline.
"Hold him down!" I bellowed, my throat raw.
Midoriya's eyes burned with focus as he leapt forward, his broken arm flailing uselessly, yet he charged ahead, determination coursing through every fiber of his being. With a guttural roar, he slammed into the replica, his remaining strength driving it back, creating an opening.
"Now!" Midoriya yelled.
Todoroki's ice surged forward, entwined with a sudden burst of roaring flames. The opposing elements clashed, then twisted together, creating a prison of steam and heat that encased the monstrous figure. For a moment, the clone faltered, struggling against the relentless assault.
And then... I rose.
My body screamed in protest, every wound flaring as I launched myself into the air, the massive paper bomb trailing behind me. It cast an ominous shadow over the battlefield, a harbinger of what was to come.
The air grew heavy, charged with tension, Below, the others moved with frantic precision, baiting and striking, each effort buying me a fraction of a second more.
The clone's movements slowed, it's body trapped in the debris and ice, the combined effort of quirks and desperation pinning the clone long enough.
I created multiple small paper planes which all flew down and picking up the players to move them high above ground.
"Now!"
With a final surge of strength, I sent the bomb spiraling downward, it's weight splitting the air with a deafening rush.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause.
And then it hit.
The impact was cataclysmic.
A deafening roar tore through the air as the bomb detonated, a powerful and ending force. The ground buckled and shattered beneath the force, waves of debris spiraling outward like ripples from an unholy tide. Buildings crumbled to dust in it's wake, the shockwave rolling across the city like the wrath of an angry God.
For a moment, there was only chaos. My mini planes carried each of the people down there like precious cargo. Mirko, Nagant, Midoriya, Todoroki and Iida, away from the blast radius.
I barely held on, my quirk faltering under the strain. The air was thick with smoke and ash, choking the remnants of what once was.
When the dust finally began to settle, silence regained. The battlefield was unrecognizable, a desolate expanse of ruin and fire.
And then came a buzz.
The Bug materialized in the air, it's glowing eyes fixed on all their respective players.
"{Times up!}" it chirped in it's hollow emotionless tone.
We barely had time to process the words before a new voice cut through the haze through the little creations audio.
"{Congratulations survivors!}"
Daigo Kiyoshi's voice spilled across the broken landscape, lilting and mocking.
"{You've thrived in my world. Truly a special breed. To endure, to persevere, to fight... Marvelous.}"
His tone was light, almost playful, but it grated against every nerve. The other's paid attention, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and barely contained fury.
"{You've proven yourselves worthy,}" Daigo continued, as if bestowing a twisted blessing.
"{But alas, all good games must end. Game over.}"
His voice grew softer, yet no less sinister.
"{In Ten seconds, you'll return to reality. Farewell.}"
"Reality..." Midoriya whispered, his voice trembling. His gaze shifted, searching for answers in the ruin.
"{I mean exactly what I said,}" Daigo's voice continued, playful yet cruel. "{In ten seconds, the game ends, and you'll all be returned to where you belong—the real Hosu, the real world. Every player will materialize exactly where their body is in the moment. And that includes...}"
There was a pause, as if he were savouring the moment, the tension thick enough to choke on.
"{... the dead. And of course the Nomu. Those All For One so graciously provided. Isn't that exciting?}"
Midoriya's head snapped up, his green eyes wide with barely contained panic. I seen it, and then I seen him change the subject as more fear grew in him. "The... Nomu." he breathed, his voice faltering.
The weight of Daigo's words crushed down on all of us. The chaos we'd all endured here was nothing compared to the storm that would greet us back in reality.
"{The countdown begins now. I hope you've enjoyed your stay.}"
Ten.The number echoed like a tolling funeral bell.
Nine.
My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline and exhaustion warring for control.
I turned to Nagant. Her breathing was shallow, her body battered beyond almost any recognition. Blood streaked her face, but he was alive.
Eight.
I inhaled sharply as we were still in the air... There was still a piece of paper folded into a letter in my pocket. I said I would get her out of the game.
Seven.
I lived. I survived these games. And so many others didn't. A flock of villains still lived but a great lot of them died.
Six.
And of the dead hero students, only one concerned me. I could feel myself trembling. The physical pain from the fight was too much.
Five.
Oh yeah, the fight. No... I got Yui out of the games. She can go back to her family now.
Four.I took the piece of paper containing her dead body out of my pocket. I was only able to store objects in my paper in small pieces like envelopes. The dead count as objects.
Three.
I looked to Midoriya, who looked like he was fading in and out of consciousness. The back of the paper had a blank white picture of who was inside, crumpled to look like her.
Two.
He would make sure it got to the right people. Even in the state he's in. The air buzzed around the unnatural hum of the countdown. The sky was darkening as the sun was setting leaving a bright purple haze.
I gritted my teeth and flung the piece of paper, directing it into the pocket of the little green. Next I turned in an opposite direction along with Nagant. Getting as far away from the heroes as I could. Flying to the outskirts. There was definitely going to be heroes in the city.
I'm so tired.
One.
And then the world blinked.
The shift was instantaneous, disorienting. One moment, I was flying through the broken remnants of Daigo's broken game world, the next, the cold air of the real Hosu hit my skin.
I hovered midair, Nagant cradled in my arms, as I took in the scene below. The city was in shambles, bodies were everywhere, some spawned on the edge of some buildings and fell in front of a walking couple only to splatter on impact. The rest were strewn across the streets.
Nomu were there as well. Just like he had said there would be.
Their forms littered the cityscape, their soulless eyes staring into nothingness. They were all moving. Some twitched as though they were waking from a nightmare.
And I was right too. Heroes were here. Endeavour's flames were the first I had noticed.
Followed by the giantess, Mt. Lady. All Might, Hawks, Kamui Woods, Ryukyu.
And many more, a great lot of the nations strongest were here.
It was crazy to think about but, I only thought of getting out of the city with none of them seeing me. I only thought that I would be arrested, for being Soryu, Nagant was already a prisoner, a disgraced hero. And I doubted she lied about the commissions influence in locking her away.
Would they want her dead now?
She wasn't safe here? I wasn't either.
I made my way out the city, cold, tired and with a new feeling of emptiness.
My feet ached. And then they stopped functioning.
I fell over with Nagant on my back. I let the tiredness take over and shut my eyes, ignoring the footsteps that were getting closer.
I normally would be up, setting up a plan even in this mad tiredness. But I didn't care anymore.
I'm just so tired.
And again... the darkness took over me.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The stage in Hosu City's central plaza was a stark contrast to the devastated streets surrounding it. The remnants of last night's chaos was still there after the heroes done all they could to mitigate it as the game came to an end.
But for now, all eyes were on the man standing at the podium, his iconic figure lit by the glare of countless cameras. All Might, stood in his classic modern hero costume, appeared as solemn as ever. His golden hair seemed to droop slightly, but his shoulders remained broad, carrying the weight of a nation's grief.
News broadcasters murmured into their microphones, their commentary hushed but urgent. Civilians packed the plaza, many clutching photos of loved ones, their faces stained with tears. On either side of All Might stood Endeavour and Hawks, their presence commanding yet secondary to the man of the hour.
All Might gripped the edges of the podium, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself before speaking. When his voice rang out, it was steady, resonant, and deeply somber.
"My fellow citizens, heroes and all who have suffered in this time of great loss..."
He paused, his throat tightening briefly. The weight of the tragedy hung over him like a shroud, but he pressed on.
"This incident was a horrific tragedy—an act of unspeakable cruelty that claimed lives, shattered families, and left scars we will carry for years to come. No words I speak today can fully capture the depth of this loss or undo the pain we all feel. But I stand before you now as a symbol of accountability. As a hero, I am not above failure, and we—all of us—failed to prevent this disaster."
All Might stepped back slightly, bowing his head deeply at the waist. The silence that followed was deafening. His voice heavy with sorrow, cracked slightly as he continued.
"To the families of those we lost, I offer my deepest and most heartfelt apology. Your loved ones were more than names, they were heroes, students, civilians, and even villains who simply didn't have the chance to walk on the path of atonement. They deserved better from us. And so today, we will honour them"
The stage they were on was in the central plaza, where the Founder's Torch had laid. And in the center of that plaza was something new, covered in a deep red coloured cloak. Endeavour shot out a flame, and a controlled burst of fire burned the cloak away to show a large piece of stone that was as black as charcoal, on it were names coloured in white. Surrounding the stone mantle was a clear reflective glass that caught the sun's rays.
It was a memorial stone with the names of all those that had died within the games, hero, villain, civilian and hero students. The names were great in number, the stone was big enough to carry them all. Everywhere surrounding it.
Some of the crowd crouched down in grief, as if finally seeing the name of a loved one was enough to fully drive home that they will never see them again.
The crowd's grief became a palpable force, with quiet sobs and murmured prayers filling the air. All Might's voice grew steadier, the pain in his tone gradually transforming into resolve.
"These were not just victims. They were individuals with dreams, hopes, and lives that mattered. We will never forget them."
Straightening, All Might's demeanour shifted. The weight of sorrow gave way to fiery conviction. His chest puffed out, his eyes blazing with determination.
"But while we mourn, we must also act. We cannot allow such a tragedy to repeat itself. Daigo Kiyoshi, the one behind this nightmare, will be brought to justice. We will hunt him down, no matter where he hides, no matter how long it takes. And every criminal who escaped from their cells to wreak havoc in this city—every last one of them—will face the consequences of their actions."
Endeavour's fiery presence intensified beside him, and Hawks nodded grimly, his usual lighthearted demeanour replaced with steely resolve. All Might's voice rose, reverberating through the plaza like a battle cry.
"To the villains who think they can exploit our pain and fear, hear this; You cannot escape justice. You cannot break the spirit of the people, this nation, or it's heroes. We will stand united, stronger than ever, and we will not falter. This is not the end. It is a new beginning."
The crowd stirred, some shouting in agreement, others clapping hesitantly. All Might's words began to light a spark within them, anger and hope intermingling.
"To the citizens of Japan," he continued, his voice softening yet remaining resolute, "you have endured so much. Your strength, your courage, your resilience, these are the reasons we heroes fight. Together, we will rebuild. Together, we will heal."
He straightened fully now, raising a fist high into the air. His expression, though weary, burned with unshakeable resolve.
"And to the next generation of heroes," he said, his tone turning proud and uplifting, "you have faced trials that would break many, yet you endured. You showed us all what it means to carry the torch forward. The future is yours, and I have no doubt that it will shine brighter than ever before."
The crowd erupted into cheers as All Might's voice thundered one final time, carrying with it the weight of his legacy.
"Plus Ultra!"
The plaza roared, the chant of "Plus Ultra!" echoing through the streets. The cameras zoomed in on All Might's raised fist, capturing the moment as a symbol of hope and determination. The scars of the tragedy would never fully heal, though the people of Hosu, and the world knew that the fight for justice would never waver.
____The sterile hum of the recovery wards machinery was constant, broken only by the occasional shuffle of feet from nearby rooms. Midoriya Izuku lay on the crisp white sheets of his hospital bed, his chest rising and falling in laboured breaths. Pain radiated from his ribs, a sharp reminder of the long and draining time he had just come back from.
His left arms were swathed in bandages and secured in a sling, pulsed with a dull ache. Burns etched across his forearms told the nurses the story of the relentless blows he's endured while fighting.
But it wasn't the physical pain that weighed on him most.
His emerald eyes stared at the ceiling, unfocused, replaying the battle in his mind. The way the fake All Might's punches rattled his bones and how it's cold, lifeless eyes mirrored his greatest fear. His weakness.
He had fought tooth and nail, pouring every ounce of One For All that he could into his attacks, yet he was barely able to lay a scratch on the All Might replica. He was pulverised. his arm was limp and his bone suffered fractures, his face was busted up too and covered in bandages that he was itching to take off, his left shoulder was in a brace which he was dreading how hard showering would be. The only thing close to being fine was his legs which still hurt some but the tremors were the most minor.
'I am supposed to be the next All Might.'
He felt like tearing up. The battle continued to replay in his mind, he dragged his friends into the battle at the end, he could have gotten them killed, he didn't want that. Midoriya was starting to doubt himself again.
'I'm weak, worthless, trash, meat, broken, impotent, hopeless, junk, purposeless... a useless DEKU... what is wrong with me?'
Midoriya shifted slightly, biting back a hiss of pain as his ribs protested. The memories were like a weight on his chest, especially the final bout. The screams. The blood. The faces of those who didn't make it. He thought of Crust and immediately felt a pang of shame and worthlessness.
Crust gave his life to protect them as he was passed out.
Yui Kodai... her lifeless body was literally slipped into his pocket in the form of an envelope. As soon as one of the heroes unravelled it, she seemed to fold out of it. Her future was stolen from her, by a game she never chose to play.
Midoriya knew who it came from.
Kobe.
Kobe's face flashed into his mind. Sharp eyes, an expression that always seemed... haunted. He had fought with them, he risked his life too, only to vanish the moment the chaos settled, along with Lady Nagant. Why? Why didn't he follow the heroes?
'Where is he now?'
The room seemed to close in on him, the silence amplifying the grief that clung to his chest. He kept thinking, he couldn't stop, of all the lives he had seen fade away. All the dreams that would never be fulfilled—
"Midoriya."
The familiar voice cut through his thoughts, grounding him. He turned his head slightly, wincing as his body protested. Aizawa-sensei stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed, his usual disheveled appearance even more so. Beside him stood Recovery Girl, a soft expression of relief lied on her face.
"You're awake," Aizawa said simply, his tone neutral but laced with a subtle undercurrent of concern.
Midoriya blinked, trying to sit up straighter, but Recovery Girl gently pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Easy, my boy. You've been through enough."
He nodded, his throat dry. "H-how... is everyone?" he croaked.
Aizawa's gaze softened, just slightly. "Alive. Thanks to you and the others. Your classmates as well as some other people that dropped into Hosu last night are all safe, some with a few wounds and some with more."
A wave of relief washed over him. But it was fleeting, because not everyone had come back.
"You did well Midoriya," Recovery Girl said, her tone warm. "We're just thankful you're here to tell the tale." She trailed off shaking her head as if to banish a bad thought. "Well, let's just say we're lucky you're as stubborn as you are."
Midoriya smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. Aizawa stepped closer, his piercing gaze meeting Midoriya's. "You're mother's on her way. She wanted to come as soon as we told her you were awake. She's been worried sick."
His chest tightened at the mention of his mom. He only figured out that everyone had access to watching the whole event, even though it wasn't legal. He thought about how she must have felt watching the nightmare.
"She'll be here soon. And we can talk about the even later on after that." Aizawa continued. "But before she gets here... I just want to say I'm proud of you, problem child."
Midoriya's eyes widened, tears stinging at the edges. Aizawa wasn't one for emotional speeches, and hearing those words felt like a salve to the wounds he couldn't see.
"You went through hell and came out on the other side," Aizawa said. "And even if it doesn't feel like it now, you made a difference. You saved lives."
Midoriya swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "Not enough. People still died. I wasn't able to save—"
Recovery Girl reached out, Midoriya thought she was about to smack him on the head, she just patted his hand. "No hero can dear. But the ones you can save. You focus on that because that is what counts."
He nodded his head, the weight on his chest easing slightly.
Aizawa sighed. "Rest now. You'll need your strength for what's ahead." he paused. "And I heard you've picked out your hero name."
Aizawa then gave a smile, it looked a little weird but not alarmingly so.
"Well done :Champion."
____The Hero Public Safety Commission's headquarters loomed over the city like a fortress of authority, it's sleek-and-glass facade catching the faint morning light. The building radiated a sense of quietness, a reflection of the turmoil the nation was grappling with.
The air was thick with tension that lingered in the aftermath of catastrophic events. Grief had seeped into the walls, the corridors, and the very souls of those who worked there, manifesting in quiet conversations and heavy silences.
At the heart of the building, deep within it's most secure wing, a conference room buzzed with a low hum of subdued conversation. The room was a stark contrast to the usual sterility of Commission spaces. A long oval table of polished black marble dominated the space, it's surface embedded with faintly glowing lines that pulsed softly, displaying files, live feeds, and classified information. The walls, paneled with dark wood and reinforced steel, were adorned with sleek monitors that displayed maps of Japan, crime statistics, and real-time surveillance feeds of the city they are in.
Rika Amamiya sat at the head of the table, her posture rigid, her gaze sharp. Her tailored gray suit hugged her frame impeccably, the commission's insignia gleaming on her lapel. Her ashen blonde hair was tied in a bun, streaks of gray betraying her years of service. Her blue eyes, usually cold and calculating, held a shadow of weariness, a rare glimpse which came from the toll of the "game" that took place.
She allowed her gaze to sweep over the room, taking in the faces of those present.
Hawks leaned casually in his chair to her right, the golden glow of his eyes flickering like a predator's in the dim light. His usual cocky demeanour was tempered, his sharp mind clearly focused on the matters at hand. Despite his relaxed posture, Rika trusted him above all others. It was his intelligence work that had uncovered a shocking number of traitors within the commission, a revelation that still made her stomach churn.
The other side of the table was occupied by Sir Nighteye. He sat stiffly, his suit immaculate but his face shown exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes stood out starkly against his pale skin, and his hands trembled ever so slightly as he adjusted his glasses. Rika could tell that he hadn't been sleeping.
But still, his presence was commanding.
Edgeshot sat to Nighteye's left, silent and composed, his ninja-like demeanour unwavering. His sleek black hero costume contrasted sharply with the formality of the room. Airjet, a lesser known hero whose face was perpetually hidden by his full-body flight suit, sat next to Edgeshot, his rigid posture reflecting his unease.
Rika had filled the rest of the room with a few trusted members of the commission, their tailored suits and impassive expressions making them blend into the background. She knew them well enough to trust their discretion, but her mind still circled back to Hawks' revelation: half of the Commission had been compromised by Daigo Kiyoshi's insidious network. It was a betrayal that weighed heavily on her. One that she would have to ignore for now, until the man was captured.
The room fell silent as Nighteye cleared his throat, rising to his feet with deliberate slowness. His presence, though not physically imposing, carried an air of gravitas that commanded attention. He adjusted the silver tie, the faint gleam of digital displays reflecting off his glasses.
"Thank you all for coming," he began, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of fatigue. "I know this is an extraordinary time for us all. The Hosu Game has left us all scarred—as individuals, as heroes, and as a society. The losses we've endured..." He paused, his gaze sweeping the room. "They weigh on us all. Their sacrifices are a reminder of the stakes we face."
A heavy silence followed his words. Airjet's gloved hand clenched into fists on the table. Edgeshot bowed his head slightly, his expression unreadable. Hawks broke the quiet with a low sigh, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table's edge.
"But while we grieve," Nighteye continued, "we must not lose sight of the future. And it is that future that brings us here today."
Rika watched him carefully, noting the slight tremor in his hands as he gestured to the holographic display above the table. A profile appeared, the face was unmistakeable to everyone in the room. Kobe Arakawa, also known as Soryu. Beneath the image, the details of his quirk and recorded actions scrolled like a grim ledger of destruction.
"Kobe Arakawa," Nighteye said, his tone sharpening. "Many of you have seen what he's capable of. You've watched footage—his battles against Overhaul and Abyss, his ruthless efficiency, his mastery of his quirk."
Airjet leaned forward, his voice crackling slightly through through the modulation of his suit. "And yet he's still a kid. A rogue kid, sure, but not some mastermind pulling the strings. Why focus on him when there is a much bigger fish to fry."
Nighteye's response was immediate, his voice cutting through the question. "Because he is a lynchpin. A force of destruction unlike any we've faced. His quirk alone makes him dangerous, but it's his mind that set's him apart. Every move he makes is calculated, precise. He's not just a rogue kid. He's a tactician, a fighter, and a killer. He's survived encounters that would've ended most heroes and villains alike. And..." Nighteye's gaze darkened, his voice lowering. "He has no aversion to killing. That makes him both unpredictable and lethal."
Hawks leaned forward, his golden eyes narrowing. "But he's also the guy that took out Abyss, and the fake All Might at the end. He tried incredibly hard to as well. I'd say there's more to him."
"Precisely." Nighteye replied, his tone unwavering. "And that complexity is why he's even more dangerous. He's not bound by ideology or allegiance. He operates on his own terms, and that makes him impossible to predict."
Edgeshot's voice, calm and measured spoke before the oncoming tension. "You've always maintained the future is unchangeable. What's changed?"
Nighteye hesitated, the faintest flicker of doubt crossing his features. "Because... I've seen cracks. The events of the Hosu Game, the unexpected resilience of certain individuals... They've shown me that perhaps the future isn't as fixed as I once believed. And if there's even a chance to alter the course I've seen, I have to try."
Rika, who had remained silent until now, leaned forward, her gaze piercing. "What exactly have you seen, Nighteye?"
He met her eyes, his voice heavy. "For some reason, as of recent I haven't been able to properly speak the future out loud or even write it down." Rika instantly came to the conclusion of a quirk awakening. "But, from the brief instances and what I can say, I know, Kobe Arakawa is close to the center of destruction. Villains will rise—Tomura Shigaraki, Miyu Ogawa, and some other groups I couldn't name— The chaos will engulf everyone and it will be a day of Death."
Death Day!
Hearing that from someone who could see the future made some of the room jitter.
"Timeframe?"
"Between the end of Halloween and Christmas I'm sure of it."
The room erupted into quiet murmurs, tension crackling like a static electricity. Airjet shifted uncomfortably in his seat, while Hawks tapped his pen against the table, his mind clearly racing. Rika's face remained impassive, though internally she was already calculating the implications.
Could Kobe Arakawa be a product of the Eden Project? The thought was chilling, but she kept it to herself. That Pandora's box would remain closed for now.
"So what do you propose?" Rika asked finally, her voice cutting through the noise.
Nighteye's response was swift. "We capture him. Alive. His knowledge, his abilities—they're too valuable to waste. If we can understand him, perhaps we can prevent the future I've seen."
Edgeshot nodded slowly. "A sound plan. But do we have the resources?"
Rika's gaze swept the room. "Then it's decided. Kobe Arakawa, codename Soryu, is to be classified as an S-rank threat. He is now a top priority for apprehension. I'll allocate resources to this effort, but the rest will depend on you all. Hawks, coordinate with Nighteye on intelligence gathering. Edgeshot, prepare your team for field operations. Airjet, assist with logistics. And to everyone else... this discussion doesn't leave this room. Kobe Arakawa is more that just a rogue. He's a threat, and we cannot afford to misstep. Let's move forward carefully—and decisively."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the task ahead settling on their shoulders. Outside, the city continued it's restless hum, oblivious to the storm brewing within the walls of the commission.
____The harsh light of the room pushed the shadows to the edges of the room inside the sparse, industrial chamber. The faint hum of ventilation ducts was the only sound, aside from the occasional soft clink of a chess piece being moved across the polished ebony and ivory board. Tomura Shigaraki slouched in his chair, one hand resting lazily on the table while his other hand hovered hesitantly over the board. His blood red eyes scanned the pieces in visible frustration, his thoughts jumbled as he tried to make sense of the strategy.
Opposite him sat his master, All For One, as composed as ever. His imposing figure was draped in a sharply tailored black suit, the light catching faint scars on his skin where his mask no longer concealed him. Though his face remained obscured, his demeanour radiated a calm dominance. His gloved hand moved another piece into position, the game advancing under his control.
"You see Tomura," All For One began, his voice smooth and paternal. "chess is not just a simple game of pieces. It's a lesson in foresight, control, and patience. Sacrifice must be calculated, victory inevitable."
Tomura scowled and tapped aa knight impatiently against the board. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. But this is boring. You know I don't think this way." He pushed the knight forward carelessly, only for All For One to immediately capture it with his queen Tomura's eyes twitched.
"Again," All For One said with a chuckle, "you overexerted yourself without considering the long-term consequences." He paused, "You made the right move not to engage in that fake All Might during Proxy's Game."
"I wanted to. But it really wasn't worth it." Tomura rubbed his neck, a rare look of contemplation on his face. "I did gain some solid new allies out of that mess." His lips curled into a smirk, his crimson eyes gleaming. "Cipher's already pulling his weight. He's smart—way smarter than most of the idiots I've had to deal with. He knows how to handle money too."
"An astute observation," All For One said, leaning back slightly. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the table. "Ritsu Tanigawa—Cipher—is indeed a valuable acquisition. He will be instrumental in securing resources and expanding our reach. A man of intellect is as much a weapon as one of brute force."
Tomura's smirk widened. "And he doesn't give much of a shit about the heroes too."
"Indeed," All For One replied, his tone was rich with approval. "And while you were navigating Proxy's game, I've been cultivating alliances for you too along with Dabi. Muscular for instance, has been eager to join our ranks and what we have planned. He brings with him... enthusiasm, if nothing else. And I will finalize negotiations with that Miyu Ogawa—her capabilities will serve us well."
"What's her deal?" Tomura was intrigued.
"A potent blend of strength and cunning." All For One said with a hint of admiration. "She doesn't fully share our disdain for this brittle society. But her actions and temporary goals do align with our goals."
"And Dabi?" Tomura asked. "I wouldn't have minded him being in the game. What's he been up to?"
All For One chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers through the air. "Dabi, the enigma. He has been busy. His methods are unconventional, but the seeds he's planted will bear fruit soon enough. You'll see. As of right now, he's busy with the good doctor."
Tomura nodded slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, as if a switch had flipped, a grin stretched across his face. He leaned back, letting out a laugh that was equal parts childlike and menacing. "We're really building something huh? Everything's coming together."
"Precisely," All For One affirmed, his voice rich with satisfaction. "The day is approaching, Tomura. A day when we will no longer remain in the shadows. When the fractured foundation of hero society will crumble beneath it's own weight. You, my dear student, must continue to gather allies, to prepare yourself for the day long storm we shall release."
Tomura reached up and pulled the hand mask from his face, his scarred lips curling into a sincere smile. He set the mask gently on the table and looked directly at his master. "I'll do it. I'll make you proud."
All For One leaned forward slightly, his unseen gaze heavy with approval. "You already have. But there is still much to do. The board is set, and the pieces are moving. Soon, the game will begin in earnest."
Tomura's eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and determination. He placed his hands flat on the table, leaning into the moment. "I'll show them," he said, his voice low and firm. "I'll show them all their precious hero society crumble."
____(Four Days Later)
The Liberation Army headquarters in Deika City pulsed with an air of quiet determination. From the grand windows of the upper levels, the city stretched into the horizon, it's streets bustling with ordinary citizens unaware of the rebellion brewing in their midst. Deep within the building's labyrinthine corridors, Re-Destro and Trumpet sat in one of the conference rooms, it's walls adorned with banners proclaiming the liberation of quirks as humanity's ultimate destiny. The atmosphere was less formal than usual, the two leaders seated with cups of tea on a polished table.
"Shiraishi," Re-Destro said, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of authority. "What are your impressions so far?"
Kazuki Shiraishi sat stiffly at the end of the table, shoulders hunched and hands gripping his knees. His hair was dishevelled and his eyes darted nervously between the two Liberation Army leaders. He felt out of place, like an intruder among giants.
"I... uh..." Kazuki hesitated, his voice was weak. He glanced at Trumpet, hoping for some kind of cue, but found none. "I'm just glad to be here. I mean, if you hadn't found me when you did..."
Trumpet smirked, leaning back in his chair. "If we hadn't found you, the heroes would've thrown you in prison. Or worse." His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, a reminder of Kazuki's precarious position.
Re-Destro raised an eyebrow, watching Kazuki with a faint smile, "And do you know why they would have done that?"
The question had an obvious answer for Kazuki, and the tone it was asked in seemed like it was just asked to make sure he knows he was an idiot. An idiot who always places himself in the worst outcome.
'Shit... Fuck!' He raged in his mind.
"I was with Abyss." Kazuki mumbled. "And he... we killed people." He corrected himself.
"Precisely," Re-Destro said, his voice sharp yet devoid of malice. "The heroes don't care what led to your choices. To them, you are still just a criminal, a villain."
Kazuki swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. "I didn't want to kill anyone."
"Kazuki." Trumpet interjected. "From the beginning of the game you were given the title Civilian. So you had no reason to get involved with the games until you took your first life where you would have been titled Villain." He said smoothly. "By the end of the games, you were at 29 points. So even if you didn't kill many like other villains, you are still a murderer."
Kazuki started shaking. The jitters came from a mixture of both anger and fear. He didn't want to be in this situation, he shouldn't have been in this situation. His future... he didn't know what was going to happen to him.
"I... I just got caught up in it. Abyss, he made me do it. He said it was the only way to survive the game."
Partly a lie and partly a truth. Both leaders could tell. Both knew that Kazuki just left his safe space for no greater reason other than he was bored, this then led him to running into Abyss pinning down an unfortunate Civilian.
As soon as Abyss spotted Kazuki, he gave him a choice. Killing the young boy in front of him for the safety of his own life, or surrendering his own to save the boy.
'Of course I chose my life.' Kazuki reacted to himself, he could see the glint's in their eyes, judging him. 'I'm selfish, just like everybody else in this world.... Also there was no way for me to confirm that kid was going to stay alive.'
"And here you are," Trumpet said, gesturing grandly to the room around them. "You survived. You made it out. And now you have a chance to turn that survival into something meaningful."
Kazuki nodded mutely, though his thoughts drifted back to the Games. To the girl he'd helped kill—the one that was so close to the boy who had killed Abyss. Kazuki could remember the fight and how it ended even though he was at a far distance and flew away as soon as he seen what he was sure was a nuke made of paper.
The memory sent a shiver down his spine. The intensity made him feel small and insignificant.
Re-Destro seemed to read his thoughts. "Worried about Soryu, are we?" Kazuki had told Trumpet about his issues as soon as Trumper had made Kazuki pick him up along with the lady that was on top of him, both passed out.
Kazuki flinched at Destro's questioning. I... uh... I think, he's going to kill me."
Trumpet chuckled, cutting him off. "It's natural. He's a force to be reckoned with. But don't worry, Shiraishi. If it comes to it, we have... contingencies."
Kazuki frowned. "Contingencies?"
"Someone with a quirk that can alter his memories." Trumpet explained, his tone almost too casual. "If Kobe ever gets too focused on you, we'll make sure he forgets about you. Simple. Plus you will be stationed far enough away from him."
The idea should have reassured Kazuki, but it didn't. The thought of someone altering memories, of tampering with something so fundamental, made his stomach churn.
Re-Destro stood, smoothing the front of his immaculate suit. "Come," he said. "It's time to check on our newest recruits."
The trio walked down the wide corridors of the medical wing, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. The air grew cooler as they approached the secured recovery rooms, where Kobe Arakawa and Lady Nagant were being treated.
Re-Destro stopped at Kobe's door first, his sharp gaze sweeping over the boy's sleeping form. Kobe lay on the bed, his golden-oak skin catching the pale light. His body was a tapestry of injuries: his left arm was covered with bandages. His chest was covered with angry, jagged scars from the fake version of All Might's relentless blows. His right leg bore deep puncture wounds, and his ribs were visibly bruised beneath the thin hospital gown.
"And yet," Re-Destro muttered, almost to himself. "he survived."
Trumpet crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "That fake All Might nearly tore him apart. But the fact that he's alive, let alone in one piece, speaks volumes."
Re-Destro nodded, his gaze intense. "Kobe Arakawa is no ordinary boy. His strength, his resolve... he can turn into a living embodiment of our ideals. But his unpredictability will need to be managed."
Kazuki lingered near the doorway, his eyes fixed on Kobe. He felt a pang of guilt, sharp and unrelenting.
Re-Destro's voice broke through his thoughts. "Lady Nagant."
They moved to the adjacent room, where the infamous sniper lay. Her body, though still, exuded an aura of power and precision. Her dark purple hair was pulled away from her face, which was pale and the drawn. Both her arms were heavily bandaged.
The scars on her body were brutal, crisscrossing her arms and legs.
Re-Destro inclined his head. "An invaluable asset that we cannot lose. Together she and Kobe will be incredible pieces."
"Then should we get the specialist to mess with their memories now?" Trumped asked, his arms crossed.
"No." Destro answered instantly. "It's better to gain an true and genuine ally, or at least try to. Changing their wills to match with our own also is a point against everything we stand for."
Kazuki glanced nervously at Nagant and then back at Kobe's room.
"Also," Trumpet called for his leaders attention. All For One has been reaching out. He's interested in some form of cooperation. Of what I don't know."
"All For One?" Destro asked with some surprise in his tone. "I have only heard the mans voice over a monitor, and that was once, it was while I was sneaking around trying to listen in to my father's conversations."
Destro had been trying to keep tabs on the worlds most dangerous villain but lost them all at one point in time. So he stopped and decided to move on. But this could also be an opportunity, even with how dangerous the man is.
"Let's hear him out on his proposition then."
As they turned to leave, a soft groan broke the silence. Re-Destro and Trumpet paused, their gazes snapping back to Kobe's bed.
The boy stirred, his fingers twitching against the white sheets. Slowly, his amber eyes fluttered open, their molten depths gleaming faintly in the dim light. For a moment, they seemed unfocused, as if caught between worlds. Then they sharpened, locking onto the figures in the doorway.
Re-Destro smiled faintly. "Have a nice rest I hope, Soryu?"
____The first sensation that registered was pain—a vast, unrelenting sea of it, flooding every corner of my being. It wasn't the sharp, fleeting kind that snapped you into focus. No, this was a deep, dragging ache, like my body had been wrenched apart and poorly stitched back together. Every breath was a gamble, the air catching in my chest like broken glass, and the effort of opening my eyes felt monumental.
The room greeted me with a pale, sterile glow, it's silence oppressive, broken only by the steady beeping of machinery. Two men stood at the foot of my bed, their figures stark against the glow of light. One was tall and broad, exuding an aura of calculated authority. His suit, each crease and button seemingly designed to command respect. The other was leaner, his stance relaxed, a smile curling at his lips like he was privy to some private joke.
The taller one stepped closer, his pristine imposing yet strangely calm. "Good, you're awake," he said, his voice deep and measured, carrying the weight of someone accustomed to being obeyed.
I blinked sluggishly, the haze in my mind refusing to clear. My voice, when it came, was hoarse and unfamiliar. "Who.. who are you? Why am I here?"
The leaner man's smile widened, his tone light but laced with something insidious. "You don't remember me? We've met before, back in the games. I was there when you and that girl placed the founders torch at the plaza."
His words were like a sucker punch. Yui. Her name alone was enough to send a tidal wave of anguish crashing through me, dragging me under. I could still see her face, her unwavering determination, the light in her eyes that refused to falter even in the darkest moments. And then, her end. Brutal, senseless and unforgiving.
My gaze drifted, seeking something to anchor myself, and landed on a third figure standing behind the two men. He was partially obscured, his presence understated, almost ghostly. He lingered for a moment, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he turned and slipped out of the room. I didn't care. Whoever he was, it didn't matter.
The pain was relentless, both the physical and emotional. My left arm was wrapped in layers of bandages, the feint memory of trying to slip past hits delivered by the number one. My leg throbbed incessantly, a cruel reminder of the puncture wounds that had nearly rendered me immobile. Even turning my head sent sparks of agony through my neck. Fighting my way out of here, if it came down to it, seemed like a joke.
The taller man took another step forward, his voice breaking through the fog. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Destro. Perhaps you've heard of me?"
Destro. Right. "The Meta Liberation army," I murmured out of my throat in a dry and scratchy tone.
His smile was thin and precise, like a blade drawn from it's sheath. "Ah, you're informed. Good. But what you may not know is that my name carries legacy—a vision passed down through generations. The Founder's Torch, which you found, was not a symbol of just hope. It was crafted by my ancestors, as a testament to our unwavering belief in liberation."
He launched into a sprawling monologue about the history of Destro, his words weaving a tapestry of revolution and sacrifice. He spoke with the fervour of a preacher, his voice rising and falling with practised cadence. Every sentence was a declaration, every pause pregnant with meaning.
I tuned most of it out, "Where's Nagant?" I asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.
A flicker of irritation crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. "She's in the room next door. Rest assured, she's recovering well."
The relief was sharp and immediate, cutting through the haze like a blade. But it wasn't enough to quell the rising tide of unease. "What do you want from me?"
The leaner man stepped forward, his grin widening. 'Right, he must be the one who called himself Trumpet.'
"Straight to the point. I like that. Let's talk about recent events, shall we? Daigo Kiyoshi, now known as the villain Proxy is a household name. An S-rank villain, top priority for capture. And you Soryu? You've been making waves yourself. Congratulations, you're officially on the same list."
I blinked, the words not fully registering the words. "What?"
"You're an S rank villain now," he repeated, his tone almost gleeful. "Top priority. The heroes are calling you a dangerous anomaly."
Destro's expression was unreadable, his gaze heavy. "In your current state, survival against heroes would be... improbable."
His words hung in the air like a noose, tightening with every second.
Trumpet chimed in, his voice lighter but no less calculated. "Which is why we're offering you a deal. Join a team to hunt down Daigo Kiyoshi. Until he's captured, by us or the heroes, you stay with us. After that, you're free to go."
It was a lie. I could see it in their eyes, in the too perfect way they framed their offer. But I didn't call them out. They wouldn't be polite if they didn't have a way to enforce their terms. Whether it was coercion, manipulation, or outright violence, they had something up their sleeve.
The door creaked open, drawing our attention. Nagant stood in the doorway, her figure frail but unbroken. She leaned heavily against the frame her sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on me.
"I heard everything." she said, "I'll join."
Her gaze met mine, and in that brief moment, an unspoken understanding passed between us. Neither of us trusted these people, but for now, we didn't have a choice.
I sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on me like a boulder. "Fine," I said, my voice heavy with resignation. "But once Daigo is dealt with, I'm out."
Destro's smile widened, the glint in his eyes unmistakeable. "Of course. Welcome to the Meta Liberation Army, Soryu."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I stared in the mirror, the morning light filtering through the blinds casting faint streaks across the glass. The face staring back at me looked... worn. Amber eyes burned with the faintest trace of fatigue, the kind that came from days of restlessness and fighting a war you didn't choose. My smooth skin caught the warm hue of the sunrise.
My dreads, now only a few inches past my ears, framed my face and shifted when I turned my head. They were getting longer. The piercings in my ears gleamed faintly in the light, catching my attention for a moment before I sighed and pulled the hood of my black shirt over my head.
"Destro's healer done a good job," I said to myself, rolling my shoulder where the faint ache lingered. My injuries were healed again, by a better healer that was only granted to me when Nagant and I agreed to joining their army.
'Fuckhead'
I rubbed my temples. My clothes, at least, were an upgrade. The all-black attire, a sleek, high-quality jumper with a hood and trousers made for movement, it felt somewhat like armour than clothing. The belt I wore, sturdy but flexible.
I turned away from the mirror, pulling myself together. The day barely started, and I already had enough on my plate.
The common area of the MLA's headquarters was spacious, minimalist, and eerily pristine. Nagant leaned against one of the marble columns, arms crossed, her eyes scanning the room as though cataloging every potential threat. She wore her usual guarded expression, but there was a subtle edge of curiosity as we waited.
Trumpet, or Koku Hanabata as he introduced himself, strode into the room with the confidence of someone who'd convinced himself he was the hero of the story. His polished appearance, slicked-back hair and a sharp, navy-blue suit, it made him look more like a corporate executive than a revolutionary leader.
"Good morning," he said with an unnervingly warm smile. "Welcome to the heart of the Meta Liberation Army."
I shot Nagant a look that said,
Here we go. She responded with a slight quirk of her brow but said nothing.
"We'll start with a tour," Trumpet continued, gesturing for us to follow him. "It's important you understand the scope of what we're building here."
The building itself was an architectural marvel. The upper levels housed offices and meeting rooms, sleek and modern, filled with tech that screamed "state-of-the-art." Hanabata waxed poetic about the organization's mission as we walked, detailing how each department played a role in their "vision for the future."
He brought us to a training facility next. It was cavernous, with walls reinforced to withstand quirk-based combat. Dozens of recruits were sparring in the main area. Beyond that was an armory that could rival a small nation's, stocked with enough weapons and gear to outfit an army.
"Impressive isn't it?" Trumpet asked, clearly fishing for compliments.
"Sure," I replied, deadpan. Nagant gave a short snort beside me.
"Even the commission didn't know you people were well past the stage of remnants getting on their feet. If so..." She stopped speaking when she looked up at Trumpet smirking in a mischievous way.
His expression was telling,
"This way," he said, ignoring her pieced together theories. He led us to a conference room where a large, interactive screen displayed a map of their influence across the country. The dots spread like an infection, showing just how deep their network ran.
"This is the hierarchy," Trumpet said, his tone taking on a more serious edge. "At the top, of course is Re-Destro. Beneath him are the commanders, like myself. Below us are the lieutenants, each managing their own specialized teams. Then come the operatives, which is where you two currently stand."
"Operatives," Nagant repeated, her tone flat. "So we're just grunts."
"Hardly," Trumpet said with a laugh. "You'll find your positions come with... significant autonomy. Especially given the nature of your assignment."
He led us to the underground levels. The air grew colder, the walls narrowing into dim corridors. Finally, we arrived at a large steel door. Trumpet input a code, and the door hissed open, revealing a spacious room that felt more like a war room than a meeting space. Inside were three figures, each radiating a different kind of intensity.
"This is your team," Trumpet announced, stepping into the room and gesturing for the three to approach. "Let's have introductions."
The first to step forward was a young man with navy-blue hair, styled neatly, and sharp, calculating, golden eyes that seemed to dissect everything they landed on. He carried himself with an air of quiet authority, his posture relaxed but purposeful.
"Arata Kiryuu," he said, his voice smooth and even. "Codename: Vanguard. My quirk is called Flow. I can redirect attacks, like water bending around a rock. I told you details relating to my quirk because I am the leader of this group. I believe that forming a good foundation within the team starts with you all knowing more of me as I slowly learn and bond with you." He offered a small, knowing smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Next was a young woman leaning against the far wall. She was tall and lithe, her pale skin almost luminous in the dim light. Her fins, a clear mutant trait, extended slightly from her arms, shifting with the feintest movement as though tasting the air around her. Her gaze was piercing, though she said nothing at first. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and calm.
"Mika," she said, her tone giving nothing away. "Stingray. I have a mutant type quirk as you guy's can tell, I don't plan on speaking anymore of my quirk though."
Her response was clipped, but there was an undeniable weight behind her words. She didn't seem like one for pleasantries.
"She's our silent killer that one," Trumpet added with a grin, though Mika didn't react.
Finally, the last of the trio stepped forward. She was shorter than the others but carried an undeniable presence. Her athletic build and sharp, confident smirk gave her an aura of someone who thrived on challenge. She cracked her knuckles as she looked us over, her gaze landing on me with a spark of interest.
"Names Ren, that or Powerhouse." her voice carried an edge of mischief. "My quirks all about kinetic energy. The more I store, the harder I hit. Let's just say, you don't want to be in my way when I'm charged up." She grinned, radiating a playful but dangerous energy. "I'm the muscle. So if you've got a problem, I'll smash it for ya."
"Great," I said dryly, folding my arms. "A merry little band of misfits."
"Welcome to the hunt," Arata said, his smooth voice laced with authority. "Around here we have a few common sayings, but one most common is: Power is born from breaking chains... The chain we plan on breaking is the system in place that is restricting our individuality."
He let the words hang in the air, their weight palpable. "If you're not ready to shatter what binds you, your fears, your doubts, your limits. Then you'll find yourself broken instead. So, I'll ask you this now: are you ready to break your chains, or will you let them drag you under?"
I met his gaze with a smirk, though my mind turned over his words. They were somewhat inspiring. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"
Arata inclined his head, a subtle acknowledgement of the challenge exchanged.
Before Arata could utter another word, Trumpet clapped his hands, drawing all our attention. "Hold on, everyone. Before we get into the details of your mission, there's one more stop we need to make," he said.
I arched an eyebrow. "Another stop? What now? a team bonding exercise?"
Trumpet chuckled, "Not quite. I'm taking you to the quirk reading machine."
That caught my interest and I wasn't alone. the room buzzed with an air of curiosity, as well as secrecy.
I already knew what it was, and so did Nagant it seemed. I debated if I wanted to find a way out of exposing mine. But I decided against it.
"The quirk reading machine," Trumpet began, clearly enjoying the moment, "is designed to measure an individual's quirk factor. Think of it like a numerical representation of your physical and quirk-based potential. The higher the score, the better your body handles stress, stamina, durability, speed, and strength."
He paused dramatically, his gaze sweeping over the group. "The lowest recorded quirk factors are usually just in children who have just awakened their quirk. And if they stay like that they stay weak and aren't enhanced in any way. Meanwhile... the highest," He gestured upward. "The highest recorded in history belongs to none other than All Might himself, at a staggering 2988. For comparison, Endeavour's is at 1190."
The room fell silent at the mention of such figures. Even Nagant's composure seemed to slip for a moment.
"Incredibly impressive since many heroes don't even break past the thousands. We use it here to gauge your place within the MLA. Consider it an introduction—a benchmark, if you will. It's common practice here."
With that, he led us down another corridor. The walls grew sleeker, a faint hum of machinery vibrating through the air. We arrived at a wide, circular room with the quirk reading machine at it's center.
The machine itself was imposing, sleek and polished with a metallic black finish. It had a central platform surrounded by glowing blue panels, a console displaying fluctuating data, and an armrest equipped with sensors. A series of wires snaked along the floor, connecting the machine to a screen mounted on the wall, ready to display results.
Trumpet motioned toward the platform. "One at a time. This will scan your quirk factor and provide a reading. It only takes a few moments, and there's no pain. Let's start with Ren."
Ren rolled her shoulders, grinning confidently. "Fine by me." she strode confidently to the platform, her movements loose but purposeful. Once the sensors calibrated, the screen lit up, displaying a bright
480.
"Good." Trumpet said with an approving nod. "You've went up. You're well within the upper range for someone your age." Ren was young but probably still a teenager.
She stepped off with a cocky grin.
Next up was Mika. She moved with quiet grace. Her fins twitching slightly as she positioned herself on the platform. The machine buzzed softly before the number:
309.
Trumpet glanced at her. "Solid score, Stingray. Especially considering your quirks unique nature."
Mika didn't say a word but I did take note of the name Stingray.
Then came Arata. He adjusted his jacket, his calm demeanour unwavering as he stood on the platform. The reading quickly blinked into existence. 413.
Trumpet smiled. "A strong score, well-rounded."
Trumpet looked at Nagant next. "Lady Nagant, if you would?"
Nagant hesitated for just a second, then stepped forward. Her expression remained calm, but I could see the flicker of curiosity in her eyes. When the screen displayed
600, the room collectively tensed.
Ren let out a low whistle. "Okay, didn't see that coming."
Mika tilted her head, her gaze sharpening. Even Arata's cool demeanour shifted, his eyes narrowing with interest.
Trumpet looked positively delighted. "Impressive. That score puts you at a level many predict only heroes in the top 10 can achieve. Truly remarkable."
Nagant stepped off the platform, brushing off the attention with practised ease, though I noticed a faint smile tugging at her lips.
And then, all eyes on me.
"Your turn, Soryu." Trumpet said.
I stepped onto the platform, already anticipating the result. The machine buzzed louder than before, the sensors humming as they worked. When the number finally appeared—672—the room went utterly silent.
Trumpet's eyes widened, and he gripped the console as though he was steadying himself. His hands trembled slightly, his face was a mix of shock and exhilaration.
Ren blinked, her mouth opening as if to say something but closing just as quickly. Mika's fins twitched in rapid succession, a rare sign of her being caught off guard. Arata studied me with an intensity that felt like he was peeling back layers of my soul. Even Nagant's eyes widened slightly before she recovered, her expression softening in understanding.
I could understand why they were all shocked. For someone of a students age and not even in a hero school or has received any formal training from what they could probably gather, this was impossible.
Hero students, by the time they graduate they would be lucky if their levels had gotten up to the 400's. The average for them were 200-450 across the nation.
Trumpet broke the silence, his voice was quivering with barely restrained enthusiasm. "672... That's extraordinary. To put it into perspective, this score is only second to Re-Destro himself."
The weight of the revelation hung in the air.
I met their stares with a calm expression, though internally, I couldn't help but reflect. My score had risen since my time with the Eden Project, by at least a hundred points.
Nagant was the first to recover, her gaze steady as she regarded me. She'd pieced it together, no doubt remembering that we are alike in the fact that we have dark pasts run by shady organizations.
The other's however, seemed almost... thrilled. Ren clapped me on the back with a grin. "Guess we've got ourselves a little powerhouse huh?"
Mika's lips curved into a faint smile, and even Arata nodded approvingly.
Trumpet finally straightened again, a spark of pride in his eyes. 'What a fool.' I thought to myself. I already told this freak that I planned on ditching his army as soon as Daigo Kiyoshi was captured, so he shouldn't be looking so prideful.
"Kobe, this result is more than exceptional. It speaks volumes of the potential you have within this organization. I believe you will accomplish great things within the MLA. A great catalyst for a future where we are all liberated."
I scoffed, before offering a smirk. "We'll see."
Trumpet clapped a sound that reverberated across the room. "Now that introductions are done, lets focus on your first task as a team. Your mission is to capture Lyra Himemiya."
"Lyra Himemiya" he repeated, pacing slowly. "A woman of extraordinary power, once an ally of Daigo Kiyoshi. She is relatively unknown. But while you guys were stuck in that game, she stood alongside proxy against the top three heroes. She is invaluable."
My mind flashed back to fighting All Might.
Trumpet's tone sharpened. "Other parties will also know of her value as well. She's currently being transported to a secure holding cell before her transfer to a maximum-security prison, and then to Tartarus. Heroes and police will be guarding the convoy. This will not be a simple snatch and grab, they will travel expecting all odds."
"Sounds like a party," Ren said with a wolfish grin, cracking her knuckles.
"Make no mistake," Trumpet said. "Lyra is not just a target of opportunity. She is a key to understanding Proxy's motives and methods."
"Do we have details on her escort?" Miku asked as she shifted slightly.
Trumpet shook his head. "We don't know the heroes that will be there, but we do know that she will be followed by four police cars and a SWAT van,"
'Talk about heavy artillery.'
"... the route itself is straightforward but will be monitored. Due to the number of police escorts I can assume the number of heroes will be from two to four."
The room seemed to be buzzing in anticipation.
I noticed something that felt weird. These people were not like how the Shie Hassaiki were. There wasn't a feeling of pressure making me stand on ten toes constantly, even of the comfort of my own room. It was just a weird calming and inclusive place.
A place that pushed silly propaganda.
It was fine though. My mind is not so weak.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The convoy rumbled through the dimly lit forest road, the rhythmic hum of engines blending with the occasional chirp of nocturnal creatures. Four police cars formed a tight perimeter around the armoured truck transporting Lyra Himemiya, each vehicle bristling with vigilance. Above them, the moon hung heavy and pale, it's light casting long, jagged shadows through the trees.
Inside the lead car, Snipe adjusted his cowboy hat, his fingers tapping lightly on the wheel. "Y'all been followin' the news about the clean up of that game? Damn thing sounds like somethin' outta a horror flick," he drawled through the comms.
"Not just in the news, it's all most people talk about now. Though we've only been removed from the incident for a few days now." Kamui Woods replied from his position in the rear vehicle, his voice carrying a measured concern. "Times feel a lot more dangerous now then they've ever been. Thank God we still have All Might with us."
"Yeah, sucks he couldn't catch that fucker Proxy though." Snipe responded, glancing briefly at the rear-view mirror.
"Proxy's patterns are too unpredictable. And there is still little to know about his quirk, so we can't blame him or anyone for losing sight of him." Best Jeanist interjected coolly from atop the truck, riding shotgun in the most literal sense. His fibers swayed in the breeze like a cloak of living threads.
"Well, do you think that guy will be coming to reclaim the gal'?" Snipe asked.
Jeanist didn't take much time to think on his reply. "No. His priorities don't align with risking himself to reclaim an old associate. Lyra was a pawn in his schemes, nothing more."
"Maybe so," Kamui said, his voice lower now. "But even pawns can turn the tide if used well. She fought alongside him against the top three heroes in the nation. That's more than a pawn in my books."
Jeanist remained silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the shadows, "She used cowardly tactics to make sure that they couldn't fight at full capacity." he spat out. "Regardless, the likelihood of an attack from Proxy is low."
"Here's to hopin' you're right," Snipe replied. "Still, somethin' feel's off about all this—"
The ground ahead of them exploded, a sudden eruption of dirt and asphalt forcing the vehicles to skid to a halt. A shockwave rippled outward, and Snipe's car rocked violently as he slammed the brakes.
"What the hell?" Kamui barked, his wooden appendages unfurling instinctively as he exited his vehicle.
Before them, standing at the heart of a fresh crater, was a girl of greater-than-average height. Her figure was illuminated by the fracture moonlight, her stance wide and unwavering. Dust swirled around her, but her presence was unmistakeable. Power and excitement.
Her punch left a gaping scar on the road, a testament to raw strength. She raised her head, her eyes glinting with determination as she regarded the convoy with an unnerving calm.
"Contact!" Kamui shouted into his comms, his wooden limbs coiling defensively. "We've got an unidentified hostile!"
Best Jeanist leapt down from the truck with practised precision, his fibers already unspooling. "We'll move her to the backup location. Snipe, cover the flank. Kamui, secure the perimeter!"
"Roger!" Snipe responded, already drawing his twin pistols as he scanned the forest for further threats.
Kamui extended his limbs to form a protective barrier around the truck, his tone sharp. "Jeanist, can you buy us enough time?"
Jeanist didn't answer immediately. His fibers moved in fluid synchronization, forming a protective cocoon around the truck as he positioned himself between the convoy and their new opponent. "We can't let her delay us for long. Prepare for extraction protocols. We move on my signal."
The girl stepped forward, her gaze locked on the heroes as the dust settled around her. Her calm demeanour remained unchanged, but her presence was overwhelming.
"Who the hell is she?" Kamui muttered, his voice light.
"Doesn't matter," Jeanist replied, his tone cold and precise. "We adapt, or we fail. Stay sharp."
____The forest was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves stirred by the night wind. Nagant's voice crackled over the comm in my ear, steady and calm as ever.
"Position secured. I've got a clear line of sight on the convoy."
I crouched low, the damp earth beneath my fingers as I peered through the foliage. Miku was beside me, her stance coiled like a spring. Arata stood behind us against a tree.
The damp scent of moss filled my nostrils.
"The plan?" Miku asked, her voice low but firm.
I gestured toward the convoy rolling steadily along the dirt road below. Best Jeanist perched atop the armoured truck, his fibers gleaming faintly in the moonlight, a watchful guardian. Four police cars flanked the vehicle in a tight formation, their sirens off but their lights casting faint red-and-blue glows across the trees.
"We probably shouldn't take him head-on." Nagant can provide us cover against him for us to escape if necessary. "He's fast. And his quirk would be annoying to deal with."
Miku tried to hide a grin. "Good. Let's shake him up a bit."
"You should focus on disrupting him." I told her, "Force him to focus on you while I go for the truck. Arata, you stay close and use your quirk to keep things off of me. Once the truck is stopped you handle the extraction."
"Good plan newbie." Arata had let me lead, as a test.
Nagant's voice chimed in again. "Anytime now. They're reaching the bend."
I took a deep breath, the tension in my muscles sharpening into focus. "Let's begin."
The first strike came from above. Nagant's rifle cracked, her bullets slicing through the air toward the lead police car's front tire. The vehicle swerved, the driver struggling to regain control as the car screeched left.
Jeanist's fibers reacted instantly, surging forward to reinforce the convoy's defensive formation. His voice calm, but commanding, echoes through the comms.
"Eyes sharp." He said. "This is a coordinated attack."
Good. I wanted him on edge.
From my palm, I folded a sleek paper construct—a feline predator, lean and fast. It's form shimmered briefly before it sprang to life, bolting from the treeline toward the truck.
Jeanist didn't hesitate. His fibers lashed out, snaring the construct mid-leap. With a sharp twist, they crushed it into scraps, the pieces fluttering harmlessly to the ground.
But he didn't see Miku coming.
She moved like a shadow, her fins flaring as she glided through the air with an eerie grace. The faint hum of electricity followed her, a quiet storm building in her wake.
She landed with a resounding crack, her fists slamming on top of the trucks engine. A surge of energy rippled outward, causing the convoy vehicles to jolt violently. The ground quaked under the force, scattering the police officers scrambling to secure the perimeter.
'I didn't know she was that strong.'
Jeanist's attention snapper to her. His fibers coiled and wove into a protective shield, encasing the truck in a dense lattice.
"Villains!"
Miku didn't respond, her gaze locked on him with icy determination. She darted forward, her fins slicing through the air. Her movements were unpredictable—feints, rapid dashes, sudden halts—forcing Jeanist to constantly adjust his defenses.
While his focus was on her, I made my move.
I folded a paper tendril, it's edges sharp and it's movements precise, and sent it snaking silently across the ground. It coiled around the truck's rear axle, tightening like a noose.
With a sharp pull, I yanked the axle free. The truck lurched violently, it's rear wheels grinding to a halt.
"Now!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos.
Arata surged forward. Jeanist reacted instantly, sending a volley of fibers toward him, but Arata's quirk activated in a seamless flow. Each attack diverted harmlessly around him, the fibers bending away as if repelled by an invisible current.
He moved with an almost serene efficiency, his strides calculated and deliberate. Reaching the truck's back doors, he pulled a small device from his belt and began working on the lock.
Jeanist's gaze shifted to me. His eyes narrowed.
"Soryu," he said, his voice sharper now. "So, it's you."
I didn't answer, already crafting another construct, a series of paper knives that hovered around me.
"I watched you in those games. And I've read and heard quite a lot about you. You're selfish." he said in a cold voice. "Do you even think about how your actions affect others? You have a sister. And mother."
His words meant nothing. So I showed nothing. Instead, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing a loose thread knotted around my cuff of my shirt.
"Nice trick." I said evenly, plucking it free. "But I'm not stupid."
Jeanist's eyes flickered, just for an instant. It was all I needed. Behind him another figure appeared and kicked the back of his knees and delivered a swift chop to the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious.
The figure... was me.
It was just a copy of me. A clone, made of paper.
"She's secured!" Arata said, as he brought out a young woman from the back of a truck. Lyra, her pale eyes met mine with a quiet intensity, her hands were still bound by restraints.
I folded three massive paper birds, with wings wide and sharp beaks.
"Miku, Arata, take the first bird. The second one will go for Nagant and Ren." I said, lifting Lyra off the ground onto the third.
Before we ascended, Arata placed his hand on my shoulder. "Good work, Soryu. You lead well. You could end up a leader in no time."
I didn't respond. My focus was on the sky, on the path ahead.
As the birds carried us away, Jeanist's words echoed in my mind.
"Do you even think about your family?"
'No.'
____The screen flickered to life, bathing the conference in a cold, blue glow. The image that materialized was both imposing and eerily calm—a man with no discernible face, just a mask and those hollow, unseen eyes that seemed to bore into the soul. All For One's presence was suffocating, even through the digital barrier.
Re-Destro leaned back in his high-backed chair, his fingers steepled as he regarded the screen. The leader of the Meta-Liberation Army exuded an air of calculated confidence, his sharp features illuminated by the faint glow of the monitor. To his right, Skeptic sat hunched over a tablet, his fingers dancing nervously over it's surface as he jotted down notes and pulled up schematics. Curious sat to Destro's left, her smile as sharp as her words, her eyes gleaming with an almost predatory curiosity as she listened intently.
The silence stretched for a beat too long, an unspoken power play between two titans. It was All For One who broke the quiet, his voice like a velvet whisper threaded with steel.
"Ah, the esteemed heir to the Destro lineage." he began, his tone deceptively polite. "It is an honour to address the man who carries the torch of such an illustrious movement. You are, after all, the culmination of decades of vision and sacrifice."
Re-Destro's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed nothing but cold calculation. "You flatter me, All For One. But the Meta Liberation Army is not bound by lineage alone. We are bound by purpose."
"Of course," All For One replied smoothly. "And what a noble purpose it is—true freedom for all. Your father's writings were... transformative. I confess, I've followed your movement since it's inception. Destro's ideals were ahead of their time, though the world was not ready to hear them."
Curious interjected, her voice sharp but tinged with fascination. "And you, All for One, what were you doing then?"
Destro was a little angered by her speaking out of turn, and to ask such a question in such a tone.
A chuckle reverberated through the speakers, low and menacing. "My dear, I've always had a penchant for multitasking. Chaos and order are but tools to sculpt society. Surely you understand?"
Skeptic frowned, his fingers pausing mid-gesture on his tablet. "Let's cut the pleasantries. You didn't request this meeting to discuss the Destro family's history."
Re-Destro raised a hand, silencing Skeptic with a calm but commanding gesture. "Patience. Let the man speak."
All For One inclined his head slightly, as though in acknowledgement. "Indeed, I did not come to dwell on the past. I came to discuss the future—a future where out visions align, where the Meta Liberation Army and my forces converge to reshape this world."
The room tightened around the trio.
"I propose a grand symphony," All For One continued, his voice taking on a lyrical cadence. "A crescendo of Liberation and retribution. The stage is already set. Tokyo, Hero's Eve."
Re-Destro's brows lifted slightly, intrigued. Curious tilted her head, her smile widening.
"Hero's Eve," she echoed. "The festival meant to celebrate the rise of heroes. How poetic."
"Indeed." All For One replied. "What better stage for a rebirth than at the height of their hubris? The figureheads of the entire Hero society, gathered in one place to celebrate their triumphs. Government heads, HPSC officials, and the pillars of their system, all in attendance. Imagine their horror when their sanctuary becomes their undoing."
Re-Destro leaned forward now, his interest piqued. "You propose an attack during Hero's Eve? An event where the entire top ten and more top ranking heroes will be?"
"Not merely an attack," All For One said. "A reckoning. A surgical strike that decapitates the leadership of hero society and sends a message to the world. The Meta Liberation Army has long sought to dismantle the chains of oppression. This will not only fracture their system but also pave the way for your legislation, for the unshackling of quirks."
Skeptic frowned, his skepticism clear. "And what, exactly, do you gain from this? You speak of our goals, but your presence in this is hardly altruistic."
A cold laugh filled the room, it sent a shiver down Skeptic's spine. "Perceptive, I like that one." he said before continuing. "My goals are simple: chaos. But not just for the sake of chaos—chaos as a crucible. Hero society has been stagnant, weighed down by it's own rot. I will destroy their false God's, their symbols of hope, and from their ashes, the world will know the truth."
"And that truth is you," Re-Destro said, his voice carrying a tone of amusement.
"Not I, but the truth I represent," All For One corrected. "A truth you and I both share, a world where strength and individuality reign supreme. I will make my public appearance at the Hero's Eve, and my objective will be All Might. His time has long passed, but his death will be their final nail in the coffin."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down like an impeding storm. Re-Destro's lips curved into a slow smile.
"You make a compelling case, All For One," he said. "Splitting their focus, sowing chaos that we can then swoop in to fix. The Meta Liberation Army will aid you in this endeavour."
All For One's mask visage tilted slightly, a gesture of approval. "Excellent. I knew you would see the opportunity for what it is."
Then, as if remembering a secondary point of business, All For One's tone shifted, colder now, yet still cordial. "Tell me Destro. Do you have Soryu in your possession?"
Re-Destro's smile didn't waver. "I do. And based on the mission he is now on, we will see how useful he can be."
"Good." All For One replied. "He is an interesting one. I look forward to our collaboration. Together, we will shape a new world."
The monitor flickered off, plunging the room into darkness once more.
Curious broke the silence first, her voice a soft hum of excitement. "This could be big. The world will never recover from a blow like this if it goes right."
Skeptic frowned, his fingers resuming their dance over the tablet. "Or it could backfire spectacularly. Trusting his gamble."
Re-Destro rose from his seat, his expression resolute. "Every great change requires risk. Prepare the army. Hero's Eve will be the beginning of the end."
It was still months away but preparation for such a large scale event should take focus.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The room was bathed in the light of the late afternoon's sun that was struggling to pierce through the curtains. Hideaki Mitsuhara sat slumped in a leather armchair, his massive bear-like frame almost dwarfing the furniture. His fur, once a robust dark brown, now carried streaks of silver, a testament to age and a conscience laden with regret.
Save for the silent rhythmic ticking of a clock, the room's silence was deafening. His mind wandered, as it often did, to Akari and the ghosts of the past that haunt him.
Akari Mitsuhara. The name brought a faint, fleeting smile to his lips, quickly overshadowed by the familiar pang of guilt. He remembered the first time he saw her: a fragile seven year old girl with wide, curious eyes that shone like polished pink jewels. Her cloudy pink hair, tangled and unkempt, framed a face that was afraid.
She had been introduced to the Eden Project under circumstances he never cared to know in his past. But even now when he tried his hardest to find out the circumstances, it only led to dead parents who's corpses were buried in their own chimney.
Akari had adapted quick enough to the program which had amazed Hideaki, but now looking back at it he was only ashamed. "She shouldn't have been there." he whispered under his breath. "None of them should have, it shouldn't have even been an idea."
The Eden Project had been no place for any child. It was a place that ripped apart a child's individuality to paint an impossible piece on them. But Akari was one of the children who was resilient enough even though broken, the spark fading from her eye is what made him choose to adopt her when the project was dismantled.
Even though he was advised against it.
He leaned forward, his clawed hands gripping the edge of the armchair. The memories came rushing back: Akari's awkward attempts to adjust to a normal life, she had gotten kicked out of two schools already and decided it wasn't for her. She was smart enough anyway.
She was independent to a fault, headstrong and stubborn, but beneath that exterior was a girl who had endured more than what most adults ever would. There were things that fascinated him about her, like the way she twirled her pink hair around her finger as she was deep in thought. Or how she would always find herself in the smallest patches of sunlight. Like she was drawn to warmth and light.
Yet, no matter how much he provided, he knew it wasn't enough. He couldn't replace the family she had lost, that were erased. He could wipe away the scars on her body. Every birthday, every milestone, was a reminder of his wicked ambition.
A celebration of her resilience and a condemnation of his past. He pitied her, yes, but his decision to take her in was more than an act of pity. It was an attempt at atonement, a desperate bid to make amends for the countless lives he had ruined.
And then there was Soryu, Kobe Arakawa. His massive hands trembled as he reached for a glass of water on the side table. He remembered the boy vividly, a tempest of raw emotion and unrefined talent when he first arrived at the facility. Kobe had been loud, feisty and unyielding, a stark contrast to the quiet figure he became later on in the project. The transformation had been swift, as it was supposed to be.
The project's relentless training and psychological conditioning had modeled him into one of it's finest students. Hideaki had seen the news reports. And he even had continuous live access to the Game that Daigo Kiyoshi, another student, had initiated.
Kobe Arakawa was strong, incredibly so. And he certainly still holds onto teachings from the project, those were hard to let go. Now he is a villain, one of the highest rank. One of the most wanted men in the country.
A weapon turning against a society that had failed him. Although Hideaki would say that he is still lucky since Kobe Arakawa could have done worse than kill a few villains that he was molded to take down anyway. What people in the commission and even outside of it were afraid of, was the potential.
And there were many more. Some that he knows have decided to join the league too. Two of them. But those two were probably still stronger than Kobe Arakawa. The thought made Hideaki's stomach churn.
His hands clenched, claws digging into his palms. He had told Hawks everything, every schedule, every document, every name he could recall. It was the least he could do, a final effort to bring some semblance of justice to thee children he had failed. Hawks had promised to act, to root out the remnants of the project and dismantle them piece by piece. It was a small comfort, but it didn't absolve him. Nothing ever would.
The sound of footsteps broke his reverie. Akari's voice, bright and cheerful, echoed through the hall as she entered the room. "I'm heading out for a bit!" She announced, her bright sparkling eyes had excitement. She wore a simple white dress, her hair tied in a loose ponytail that swayed as she moved. Her energy was infectious, a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere that clung to Hideaki like a shroud.
He looked up at her, his expression softening despite the weight in his chest. "Don't be out too late," he said in a gruffy tone, his voice tinged with concern and affection.
Akari paused at the door, turning back to flash him a radiant smile. "I won't! Oh, and thanks for the breakfast this morning. It was perfect."
He managed a small smile in return, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "Happy birthday Akari."
Her eyes widened briefly before her smile deepened, and she gave him a playful salute. "Thanks, old man!" she teased before disappearing out the door in a blur of motion.
The room fell silent once more, but this time it felt heavier. Hideaki leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the door through which she had just left. "Fifteen," he murmured. "She's fifteen today. June 18th. Another year... another reminder."
He closed his eyes, exhaling a deep shaky breath. "Judgement will come soon enough," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And I'll accept it, whatever it may be. For her sake... for all their sakes." The clock continued it's steady ticking as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows in the room. And for the first time in what felt like years, Hideaki allowed a single tear to escape, rolling down his fur-covered cheek before disappearing into silence.
____Akari Mitsuhara's vibrant pink hair glimmered under the mid afternoon sun, catching the light as she skipped along the bustling streets of Musutafu. Her simple white dress swayed with her every movement, the fabric light and airy, a stark contrast to the dense, chaotic energy within her.
She carried no phone, no bag, just herself and the world's infinite possibilities laid out before her like a never-ending series of snapshots waiting to be captured.
"So bright out... So much colour, perfect day for my birthday." She declared, her voice carrying a cheerful lilt that turned heads as she passed.
She raised her hands to shield her golden-flecked eyes, pupils shimmering as her quirk
Snapshot, activated. In an instant her vision sharpened, each detail snapping into perfect focus. A street performer juggling flaming batons caught her attention. She smiled, capturing the image with a blink, the performer's movements frozen mid-flame in her mind's eye.
"Not bad! Seven out of Ten for the flair though." She muttered, skipping onward.
As she wandered the streets of Musutafu, Akari's thought's flickered to the past, to the Eden Project. She'd been reflecting more than usual, maybe it was cause it was her birthday, another year she was free to do what she wants on the day she came into this world. Her fourth year out.
Her fifteenth birthday. "What better way to spend it than a visit to the number one hero school in the country?" She asked aloud, grinning to herself.
She had missed out on the sports festival, but her interest in the school didn't start then, or even when they were attacked by a group of villains.
It happened on a random day, when she seen the news on the day of the raid on the Shie Hassaiki. When she had seen him again.
'Paper boy.' Or 'Ko-Chan.' she remembered calling him, she remembered his name. 'Kobe Arakawa.'
She remembered all the names of the children within the project, it was a benefit of her quirk.
She remembers thinking of the people there, and then she seen his quirk at play, even though he was wearing a mask and going by the name Soryu. Her grin softened.
Akari held her hand up to her chest, she can recall that hand being held so tightly one time by him as they both tried escaping one time. They were caught, and he took a beating in front of everyone for them both.
Akari doesn't know why, she never cared to then. She didn't thank him back then. It is something she would do now. But would he remember. He had changed a lot before they had all been separated. He was cold, he walked around silently like he was constantly sneaking around, he spoke minimally even when they found spots to do so in private.
He turned his back more often, he got strong and what made him angry before never made him bite again. She remember's it all, his eyes seemed so... hollow. Akari thought she admired him, but if he was still like that... like a drone only built for taking orders... "Then Ko-chan wouldn't be someone to admire."
She looked up to a tall bridge and her pupils did a slight shutter as if taking a picture. This was the main attraction to her Snapshot quirk, within the next moment after the picture was taken she teleported on top of the railing of that bridge.
Teleportation.
Akari snaps a photo with her eyes and as long as it is within 3 continuous seconds, she can teleport to any area of the photo she has captured.
The sudden shift left her momentarily breathless but the thrill was exhilarating.
"Well Ko-chan, I'm off to UA for my birthday. I'm off to see your sister."
Children in elementary school uniforms nearby noticed the sudden appearance. "How did you do that?" a little girl asked, wide-eyed.
Akari got off the railing and landed on one foot before crouching down, giving the girl a conspiratorial grin. "Magic," she whispered with a wink, before spinning on her heel and skipping away.
Her next stop was a bustling market square, where the scents of sizzling yakitori and sweet taiyaki filled the air. She hummed to herself as she zigzagged through the crowd, snapping mental pictures of the vendor's brightly coloured stalls, a street artist's mural in progress, and a partially fluffy Shiba Inu.
"This place is like a buffet for my eyes." she said spinning in delight.
She paused in front of the artist, admiring the bold strokes and vibrant hues. "Wow! That's incredible. Mind if I take a photo?"
The artist smiled, nodding. "Go ahead."
Akari blinked and let her eyes scan the image. Then she clapped her hands together. "Thanks! You just made my day 20% cooler."
By the time she reached the outskirts of UA's campus, the sky had gotten darker. She stood before the tall gates, tilting her head back to take it all in. The sight stirred excitement and curiosity within her, and a touch of nervousness that she wouldn't admit to.
"UA high school," she said, hands on her hips. "Home to the best of the best. And me, standing right here, totally not intimidated. Nope. Not at all."
She let out a deep breath and placed her hands behind her head, a carefree smile spreading across her face. Her fingers toyed with the ends of her hair as she thought about Hideaki. Despite everything, she had never hated him. "The big guy tries," she murmured.
***Akari Mitsuhara quickly and easily made her way into the school, she didn't even try to not be spotted by cameras. It was up to the officials to call it in. Her bare feet had softly been padding against the pristine floors. She had long since abandoned her sandals, dangling them playfully from one hand as her white dress fluttered lightly with her movements.
"This place is huuuuge," she said to herself, her eyes darting around with wide excitement. She paused near a large window, leaning over to peer out at the expansive training fields below. "Do they really get all of this for hero practice? They'v gotta be good."
Her pupils shimmered faintly as she blinked, capturing the sprawling view. She straightened up, spinning once on her heel before skipping further down the hallway. Every now and then, she stopped to press her ear against a door, giggling softly at the faint murmurs of students, it was late so they were probably doing extra-curricular activities.
A grin tugged at her lips.
The fun of sneaking around wasn't in the destination, it was in the in-between moments. Akari blinked and disappeared, teleporting to the background of an image she had just snapped. She appeared crouched atop a trophy case, her knees drawn up and fingers gripping the edge as she peered down like a mischievous cat.
"Good thing I'm light on my feet," she said, her voice tinged with playful pride. She leapt down with a soft thud, twirling once more before snapping another mental image of a hallway corner adorned with some art from students. With a shimmer, she blinked again and reappeared at the next bend, only to briskly twirl past a robot that was cleaning the halls.
"Oops! Didn't mean to scare you, mister." she chirped, offering an exaggerated wave. Before she could hear it call, she was gone again, blinking into stairwell leading outside in the general direction of the newly added UA dorm system.
She hummed to herself softly, her melody carrying through the empty stairwell, he sandals swung idly.
Akari knew at this time she would most likely have to head to the third year dorms soon, that was where she'd most likely find Kobe's sister. The thought of meeting with this Yuki Arakawa, it excited her. She wanted to know the type of person that grew up with him.
Akari knew she was a hero student, she had even slightly anticipated to see her in action.
But just as she reached the top of the stairwell, a loud boom echoed through the halls, vibrating faintly beneath her feet.
Akari froze, her head tilting like a curious bird. "What was that?" she wondered aloud. Unable to resist, she changed course, skipping lightly toward the sound.
It was another training gym. It loomed before her, it's high ceilings and reinforced walls practically humming with energy. She pressed herself against the edge of the entrance, peeking around the corner. Inside were two figures standing amongst a simulated battlefield.
The first was a tall, tall to Akari, beautiful girl with long baby blue hair that bounced as she moved, her laughter light and cheerful. Akari's gaze lingered for a moment before shifting to the second figure. A dark skinned girl with bright purple eyes and a cascade of curly black hair. Her movements were precise and calculated, her demeanour was the opposite of her companion, but Akari was only judging from appearances.
"That's her..." Akari whispered. "That's Ko-chan's older sister."
She crouched lower, her pupils shimmering as she snapped mental images of the scene. Her quirk allowed her to enhance details, taking in every nuance of their conversation from her hidden vantage point.
"It hurt a lot." Nejire Hado was saying, her tone unnaturally serious. "There were many that died, and it's been almost a month and people are coming out everyday to tell their stories, some of them are lying though. Thankfully... or not, not all of the first years have been scared away since the game."
Yuki crossed her arms, her purple eyes narrowing. "And my brother..." her voice was low, steady, but there was an unmistakeable edge to it. "He's still out there and hasn't chosen to reveal himself. And now the hero site shows him as an S rank, one of the most wanted in the country along with Proxy."
Akari's grin faltered, just slightly. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she continued to watch. Yuki's cold tone was sharp, it was like she was trying to sound like she didn't care.
But Akari could see through her, she could see that Yuki did care for her brother. She just doesn't know how to show it. She was quite different from Kobe. As the years went on, Kobe became resilient, always calm, and had a deep and faraway gaze.
It was fascinating, and a little sad, to see how different they were.
Nejire had placed a hand on Yuki's shoulder, her usual cheer returning. "Hey, he's still your brother. And who knows? Maybe one day he'll..."
"Let's not focus on him." Yuki interrupted. "This is our final year, and we'll be allowed back to interning soon. So let's focus on what's ahead."
Akari couldn't help herself. She giggled softly, the sound breaking through the weight of the conversation. Before either girl could react, Akari blinked, teleporting into the gym and crouching just a few feet from Yuki.
"Well aren't you a bundle of sunshine?" Akari said, her gold-flecked eyes glinting mischievously as she rested her chin on her hand. "I'd say you're nothing alike."
Yuki stepped back instinctively, her purple eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"
Akari's grin grew. "I'm Akari," she said, tilting her head. "And let's just say... I wanted to see the type of person related to Ko-chan."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The warm air nipped at my face as we stepped into the underground of the main base through the underground tunnels of Deika city.
It took more than a day to get back since we were travelling slowly to avoid hero inspection. It was late evening, the kind where the skyline glowed faintly against the darker shades of night. The others were quiet, Lyra trailed behind us, her wrists bound loosely, but the faint tension in her shoulders told me she hadn't given up hope of escape.
Arata led the way, his casual, steady stride giving no indication of the sharp mind I had come to meet behind his calm and welcoming demeanour. Beside him, Miku's fins fluttered slightly under her jacket with every step, an almost unconscious movement that mirrored her restlessness. Ren walked a step behind Lyra, her gaze fixed on the captive like she was measuring her worth.
Nagant stayed beside me, her presence solid and unshakeable. I glanced at her briefly, she caught my eyes and gave me a faint nod.
It was weird that other than her, I would consider myself one of the only normal people in this building, no... the city. The whole city made sure to be quiet about Destro but all of them were happily dancing to the tune of his ideology.
Two guards met us at the door and escort us to the higher floors. Their eyes lingered on Lyra, their expressions unreadable.
We were led to a large room, more like a hall, with a single figure seated at the far end. Destro. His presence filled the space, even as he sat, his hands clasped in front of him on the table. His gaze swept over us, and I felt it weigh on me longer than it did the others.
"Welcome back," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I trust the mission went well?"
Arata stepped forward, his tone as composed as ever. "Yes. Lyra was secured without much of an issue, even though we were up against some pretty notable heroes like Best Jeanist and Kamui Woods." He gestured to Lyra lightly. She stood between us, her expression was defiant and wary.
"Excellent work!" Destro congratulated. "And even slipping past one of the heroes on the top ten and the other a quick and rising star."
Arata stepped up to speak again. "Yeah, and I let Soryu lead the mission, he got us in and out fast."
Destro's smile became weird and slightly perversive.
"Excellent. You're proving to be a valuable asset."
I didn't respond immediately, unsure of what to say. The praise felt... off. Nagant, as always remained unreadable. She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement that followed to her as well. I followed her lead and gave a quick nod.
"Lyra." Destro said, his tone taking on an edge of satisfaction. "It's good to meet you. Though I imagine the circumstances are less ideal for you."
She didn't reply, her jaw tightening as she held his gaze. There was a strength in silence, the feeling of control even when you're bound.
"Take her to the waiting room," Destro instructed, his attention shifting back to us. "We'll deal with the next steps shortly. For now, let her stew. Let her have her time to herself."
Ren stepped forward immediately, her hand brushing Lyra's shoulder to guide her toward the door. Miku followed, her fins shifting slightly as if sensing the tension in the air. I watched them go, a strange sense of finality settled over me.
I don't know... I've felt a lot more tired than usual.
As the door closed behind them, Destro's attention returned to the four of us remaining. "You've done well." he repeated. "Nagant, Kobe. You two are integrating into the Army more seamlessly than I expected. It's good to see."
"Just doing our part." Nagant replied smoothly, her voice carrying that unwavering confidence I was beginning to admire, or maybe envy.
"Good. Adaptability is key here. We value those who can think, who can adjust. And you've shown both." He nodded, showing satisfaction across his features.
"Thank you." I said.
We left the room in silence.
My mind thought on the comfortability of the organization that was washing over me. I didn't like it. I wanted to leave now. But I know eyes are on me at all times. I'll be chased, maybe dragged back, or maybe killed.
I wasn't too scared of that. But I just didn't want to lose myself among these lunatics.
I still had things to do. What happens to me after, don't really matter.
Actually. One of those things that I needed to do was find a computer I could use where my activity couldn't be easily and quickly traced by that freak Skeptic.
Reason being, that during the final part of those games, after Nagant and I killed Nine, I was able to procure that USB. And it didn't disappear like I thought it would. Instead it was still left in my position.
I was feeling a tug pull at me constantly to know what is on that USB stick.
____Nejire Hado and Yuki Arakawa lay sprawled across the cracked concrete, the air heavy with the aftermath of their battle. Akari Mitsuhara stood in the center of the wreckage. Her golf eyes were filled with the look of a playful sadist. Those eyes settled on Yuki. Akari tilted her head and her gaze was filled with nothing but curiosity.
"You're really nothing like him. Even though I can teleport, getting a hit on him was super hard. But you on the other hand..." Akari stated, her tone seemed like she was asking why, asking why Yuki was so weak. "... Or maybe I've just gotten stronger since then."
Yuki groaned clutching her side as she struggled to sit up. Nearby, Nejire pushed herself to her hands and knees, her demeanour was exhausted. Akari's eyes flickered to her for a moment before going back to Yuki, who was glaring at her despite the pain etched on her face.
"How do you know my brother?" Yuki asked, her voice was laced with anger. She reached out, her fingers brushing against a jagged piece of debris, wanting to use her quirk. Akari had already seen how she had used it.
Akari blinked once, almost lazily, before disappearing from her spot and reappearing in an instant. Her foot came down firmly on Yuki's hand, pinning it to the ground. Yuki gasped in pain, her head jerking upward to meet Akari's gaze.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Akari said, her tone devoid of malice but it seemed as if she was trying to sound like a voice of authority. "As for Ko-chan... he's just a friend."
Yuki's brow furrowed in confusion. "A friend? Since when? Kobe..." she stumped, struggling to piece together words to spit out to Akari. Words to help her figure out this stranger. "Kobe doesn't have friends."
Akari chuckled, she smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. She stepped back, removing her foot from Yuki's hand, and folded her arms across her chest. "I doubt he has many, but that's fine, since I'm his friend. But he's also someone I once admired." She answered.
Nejire having regained some strength, staggered to her feet, her eyes filled with determination despite the light tremble in her limbs. "If Yuki's little brother is so great, then why are you hurting us?" She demanded, her voice rising in defiance. "What do you want from us?"
Akari regarded Nejire with a mixture of amusement and indifference. "What I want has nothing to do with you," she said. "This isn't personal."
"It feels personal," Yuki shot back, cradling her injured hand. "You show up out of nowhere, talk about my brother like he's some kind of legend and not some shitty brat, and then act like none of this matters. Who are you really?"
Akari's expression darkened for a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing her face. "I'm just a simple girl celebrating her birthday. I just wanted to see the type of person Ko-chan grew up with."
Yuki's frustration boiled over. "You don't get to judge me based on my brother."
Akari's lips curved into a faint, almost pitying smile. "You're right. I don't know you," she admitted. "But I know enough to see the difference between you and him. It's not an insult, just an observation."
Akari continued looking down on Yuki, she didn't have anything more to say, she even ignored Nejire when she refuted Akari's words about Yuki.
Akari stood staring for a long moment and was thinking to herself.
She then gained a look of revelation.
The silence was broken, by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor. Akari's sharp hearing picked up on them before anyone else. She turned her head slightly, her gaze darting toward the entrance.
The doors burst open, and three pro heroes ran in, Midnight, Vlad King and Eraserhead. Their eyes locked onto Akari in a quiet rage.
"Stop right there!" Eraserhead barked, his capture weapon coiling around him in the air as his eyes started glowing red as he activated his quirk.
Akari felt a weird sensation, she couldn't use her quirk. She had never been put under such a predicament before. The subtle hum of of power that coursed through her body disappeared, leaving her strangely hollow but unfazed.
"Who are you?" Midnight demanded, her whip unfurling from her side. "Are you with the League of Villains?"
Akari's lips curved into a smirk, her stance relaxed despite the clear threat posed by heroes. "The League? " she echoed, her tone light and mocking. "As if. I'm just a simple civilian."
Her casual dismissal only heightened their tension. Vlad King stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "You broke into this school and attacked students. That's not exactly civilian behaviour."
Akari chuckled, her laugh soft but cutting. "Attacked? Oh no. I was just messing around and exploring a new wonder for my birthday."
Eraserhead's gaze didn't waver, his voice cold and steady. "Enough games. Name and true reason for being here. Now!"
She rolled her eyes but complied, if only to amuse herself. "Akari Mitsuhara." she said in mock formality as she gave them a small bow.
The name landed like a thunderclap. Midnight's eyes widened slightly, recognition flashing across her face. "Mitsuhara... as in Hideaki Mitsuhara? The commission official?"
"Yep. That's my dad." Akari's smile grew sharper.
Midnight's expression hardened. "He was the one who went on about how heroes were becoming stagnant, that heroes were going to overpower us eventually. He was a nut, with all his crazy ideas. It's like he was rooting for mayhem."
"No, no, you misunderstand. He didn't want mayhem. He predicted it. Big difference." Akari said laughing.
Vlad King frowned, his hands tightening. "Doesn't matter who your father is. You broke into UA and assaulted students. That's not something we're going to overlook."
Before anyone could respond further, Eraserhead's capture scarf tightened, and from the fabric emerged Nezu, who calmly perched on Aizawa's shoulder. The principal's demeanour was, as always, eerily cheerful.
"Ah, Akari Mitsuhara." Nezu said with a polite wave. "You're father is on the phone in my office. He'd like to speak with you."
Akari blinked, her surprise lasting only a moment before she acted out dramatically. "Damnit! How did he know where I was?"
"The number three hero, Hawks was following you and told him." Nezu answered.
She grinned, Hideaki was worried about her, even though he of all people would know how strong and capable she is. She was happy to hear that, she grinned.
"Well, lead the way rat!" She pointed.
As she stepped forward, both Eraserhead and Vlad King moved to block her path. "Nezu," Aizawa said firmly "this girl broke into the school and attacked some of your students. We need to follow some protocol."
Nezu waved his paw dismissively. "Protocol can wait. Look at this as an opportunity to enhance our security measure. Besides," he added with a knowing smile, "she's not here to cause real harm."
Akari turned back to the heroes, her grin wide and unapologetic. "You heard the boss. Let's not make this difficult."
With that, she skipped ahead, following Nezu, her carefree demeanour completely at odds with the tension in the room. Aizawa and Vlad exchanged wary glances before reluctantly trailing behind, their unease palpable.
As they disappeared, Midnight went over to help the two hero students to their feet.
"You guys should head to Recovery Girl." She said. "Get whatever bruises you have checked out."
Yuki spoke. "Is she really just going to walk out like that?"
"Yeah, maybe. No one really knows what goes on in Nezu's head. But don't let this bad experience dwell on your mind." she said before giving the two a smile. "And come to us to give a proper report of what happened."
____The air was quiet in the small, sleepy town. The kind of place where time seemed to move slower, with narrow streets winding between wooden houses, weathered but sturdy. Inside a modest café tucked between a tailor's shop and an old bookstore.
Daigo Kiyoshi sat at a corner table, his long coat draped neatly over the back of his chair.
He brushed a few stray crumbs from his fingers, setting down his fork after the last bite of strawberry shortcake. The plate gleamed clean, save for a smear of cream and a lone, glistening strawberry seed. A smile graced his lips—not the wide, disconcerting smile that could unsettle even the bravest of souls, but a calm, practiced expression. For now.
"Thank you for the meal," Daigo said as he approached the counter, sliding cash toward the elderly café owner. His voice was smooth, disarming in it's charm.
The owner bowed, her hands wrinkled but steady as she took the money. "Come again, young man. Not many folks like you passing through these days."
Daigo tipped his head. "I'll keep that in mind."
As he stepped outside, the late afternoon sun bathed the street in a warm, golden light. The cobblestones glimmered faintly, polished by years of footsteps. A gentle breeze rustled through the sparse trees, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers.
Daigo's gaze swept lazily across the street before his eyes landed on an old woman struggling to maneuver a bulky sack of groceries. She paused near the curb, her frail frame trembling under the weight as she muttered to herself.
With an exaggerated air of consideration, Daigo strolled over, his footsteps slow and deliberate. "Ma'am, let me help you with that," he offered, his smile now just a fraction wider, his teeth glinting in the sunlight.
The woman looked up, startled but grateful. "Oh, thank you, young man. These bags seem to get heavier every week."
Daigo crouched down and lifted the sack effortlessly, balancing it against his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. "Where to?"
"Just down the hill there," she said, pointing toward a small house with a faded red roof. "That's my place. I'm ever so thankful—it's not often you see kind young folk these days."
"Is that so?" Daigo asked, his tone light and conversational as they began to walk.
The conversation that followed was simple. The woman chatted about the weather, remarking on how the rain had been overdue, and about her shopping trip, lamenting the rising prices at the market. She spoke warmly about her neighbours, the baker who always gave her day-old bread and the children who played noisily in the afternoons.
Daigo listened, nodding occasionally. His smile grew imperceptibly wider with each step, the curve of his lips stretching just a bit more as her words filled the space between them.
"And my grandchildren," the woman added, her voice tinged with pride and sorrow. "They are normally here to help me with my shopping. But, I just lost one recently, poor boy. He was a second year in a hero school. But he got dragged into the terrible Game." Her hands trembled as she adjusted her shawl. "I can't imagine what kind of monster would create something like that and just call it a simple game. People like that... their heads aren't right, you know?"
Daigo's steps faltered for the briefest moment. His smile widened, his teeth now fully bared. His eyes, sharp and glinting, betrayed a growing intensity, a flicker of bloodlust barely restrained.
She continued, oblivious. "This world's a mess, but people like that? They make it worse. I pray they never show their faces around here. Someone ought to teach them a lesson."
By the time they reached her doorstep, Daigo's expression transformed. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, his eyes filled with an unsettling light, as though he were savouring every word she said.
"Here we are," she said, fumbling with her keys. "You've been such a dear—"
Daigo dropped the groceries abruptly. The sacks hit the ground with a dull thud, scattering fruits and cans across the stone pathway. The woman tuned, startled, only to see Daigo towering over her, his grin now grotesque in it's intensity.
"I couldn't agree more," he said, his voice now brimming with evil.
Before she could react, Daigo's hand shot out, faster than her eyes could follow. His blade, a sleek, precise weapon he carried like an extension of himself, gleamed in the dying sunlight. One clean, merciless stroke severed her head from her body.
The old woman's head hit the ground, her expression frozen in shock, as her body crumpled beside it. Blood pooled around her, staining the cobblestones.
Daigo crouched beside the lifeless head, tilting it slightly as if inspecting a curious artifact. His grin was now utterly feral, his eyes alight with dark amusement. "No head on your shoulders either." he murmured, his voice almost playful. "Guess we're even now."
He stood, wiping his blade on her shawl before sliding it back into it's sheath. The warm golden light of sun bathed him as he turned away, walking back up the hill with a spring in his step.
"Evolution always requires sacrifices," he muttered to himself, his voice carrying faintly on the breeze. "And the game was just a necessary step. Besides, even your dumb grandkid is immortalised within my Virtual Domain."
The sound of footsteps faded into the stillness of the town, leaving behind only the lifeless body and the scattered remnants of a mundane, simple life.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Nagant's knock on my door wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of urgency. I groaned, peeling myself away from my pillow.
"What is it?" I called, rubbing at my eyes.
"Destro wants us downstairs," her voice came, sharp and clipped. "He wants us to watch what happens with Lyra."
Lyra. The fragile woman we'd dragged back here, her fate now teetering on the whims of a man whose vision consumed everything in it's path.
I swung the door open to find Nagant leaning against the frame, arms crossed. Her gaze was a steady but not unkind, though there was always that edge to her—like an unused razor kept sharp out of habit.
"Let's go," She said, turning on her heel.
The corridors of the compound were eerily quiet as we made our way to the lower levels. The walls here were thicker, the air heavier. It felt like stepping into a place where words went to die, swallowed up by the weight of purpose and secrecy.
When we entered the room, the first thing I noticed was the starkness of it. It was a simple, unadorned space, lit by harsh fluorescent lights that bleached everything into shades of grey. Destro stood at the center, his posture as composed as ever, radiating that unshakable confidence that seemed to anchor everyone around him.
Arata was already there, leaning casually against a wall, his arms crossed as he watched the proceedings with a detached interest. His navy hair caught the light, giving him an almost ethereal quality, but his sharp eyes betrayed the calculating mind beneath.
It was the woman standing beside Destro who immediately drew my attention.
"Ah, you've arrived," Destro said, his tone as calm and measured as ever. He gestured to the woman beside him. "Nagant, Kobe. Meet Kaede Himura. She'll be assisting us with the matter at hand."
Kaede stepped forward, her movements precise and deliberate. She was striking, her pale lavender hair cascading in loose waves down her back, catching the light like spun silk. Her piercing silver eyes swept over Nagant and me with a sharp, appraising gaze, as if she was sizing us up.
"Kaede Himura." she said, her voice was smooth and silky. She left her introduction there.
She carried herself with a confident and up class presence.
Nagant arched an eyebrow. "What's your quirk?" she asked, Destro seemed like he was about to butt in, but not the same way as he would usually correct one of us for using quirk instead of meta.
Just in case he was going to shut it down I interjected. "Meta ability she means." I said with a snarky attitude.
Kaeda's lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Memory imprint," she said simply. "I can... explore memories and imprint them in people too."
"She's here to extract information from Lyra," Destro explained, his gaze steady on us. "Kaede's abilities are unparalleled when it comes to uncovering secrets we need."
I studied Kaede closely, trying to gauge the woman beneath the polished exterior. There was an edge to her, a quiet intensity that was both compelling and unsettling.
That was a dangerous ability, and it's under the hands of someone like Destro. The mind is very fragile, so I doubt imprinted memories would last, but that only led me down a rabbit whole of what her quirk could achieve.
Would she know if her abilities are fading within someone she has used them against?
Who in this organization is under her spell?
Was she going to be used against me if I denied Destro's initial offer?
Destro's voice cut through the room. "Kaede has my full confidence," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "She will handle this interrogation with precision. Our task is to observe and learn."
As if on cue, Lyra was brought into the room, shackled and pale, her eyes darting nervously around. She looked even smaller than before, her fear palpable in the oppressive silence of the room.
Kaede approached her with a calm, almost predatory grace, crouching slightly to meet Lyra's gaze. "You've been through a lot haven't you?" she said, her voice gentle.
Lyra flinched. It hadn't even been a full day since we had taken her from her predetermined destination, and she was already a lot more flimsy than the hardened exterior she held on to previously. I wonder what happened.
Kaede extended a gloved hand, her silver eyes locking onto Lyra's. "I'm not here to hurt you," she said, her tone softening just enough to sound convincing. "But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
The room seemed to hold it's breath as Kaede made contact, her hand brushing against Lyra's wrist before grabbing it tightly.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, the air seemed to shift. It was subtle—a faint ripple, like a pebble dropped into water.
When Kaede opened her eyes again, her expression was unreadable. She straightened, turning back to Destro. "She's never been loyal to Proxy." she said simply.
Destro nodded, as if he'd expected as much. "And why did she work with him?"
Kaede's gaze darkened, her voice quiet but firm. "Her family. He held them hostage in a bungalow in Yokohama. He used them as leverage."
She paused, her silver eyes narrowing. "And he's prepared to move them at a moment's notice. To another game world, like he did with Hosu."
A silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating.
Nagant crossed her arms, her gaze flicking between Destro and Kaede. "So what do we do with that?"
Destro's expression didn't change. "We use this as an opportunity." Lyra passed out, she seemed to weak, maybe she hadn't been fed. "We can recover her family from wherever they are, and then we may get closer to Proxy himself. If not, then we may have a new ally with us in Lyra." He finished as he looked down to her.
Daigo was able to create that fake Hosu because he had tagged it's surroundings. And as reports from Skeptic have said, those tags are miniscule and mostly unnoticeable so even if we were to go for the family, there is always the chance that we could get transported before we even know it.
What a bad situation.
Destro will most likely keep Nagant and I together to tackle on this mission. And the other three as well since we're part of this squad to capture Daigo Kiyoshi.
"Get the team ready, Arata. You guy's will be going on a long journey this time."
____Sir Nighteye sat at the head of a small circular table. His gaze scanned the room of heroes and assembled officials. The tension was dim but growing.
Best Jeanist sat to Nighteye's right side, his expression inscrutable but his posture betraying a rare annoyance. Kamui Woods leaned forward, fingers drumming lightly on the polished surface of the table. Across from them, Snipe adjusted the brim of his hat, his sharp eyes darting to Detective Tsukauchi, who was flipping through a thin stack of reports.
At the end of the table, a pair of administrative assistants were whispering hurriedly, their laptops open, lines of data scrolling across their screens.
Nighteye broke the silence first, his voice cutting clearly through the murmur of the room. "We've lost her," he said simply, his words were a quiet statement of failure that echoed like a verdict.
Jeanist nodded, his jaw tightening. "Lyra Himemiya was taken out from under us," he said. His voice was strained, sure he didn't partake in the mission, but that was because it was supposed to be a simple escort mission. He didn't even believe that a hero in the top ten would be necessary.
"She was taken by a group we can't identify fully."
"And yet we know some players," Nighteye replied, his gaze sharp as glass. "Lady Nagant and Kobe Arakawa-Soryu."
Snipe gave a low whistle. "Lady Nagant. She's a disgrace to hero society, donning the cape during the day and played assassin at night. I not all that surprised at her playing on the other side."
"Nor I," Kamui Woods added, his voice low. "From what we've gathered, she might still just be playing mercenary. And Arakawa, he's become more brazen. He's really embracing his title of villain."
Detective tsukauchi cleared his throat. "We've spoken to his mother recently to get a feel of the type of person he was." he said lifting up a folder. "He was a bright kid, smart and excelled at basically everything."
"Probably led to arrogance and a feeling of entitlement to do and get what he wants, especially since he was also born with such a powerful quirk." Jeanist interrupted.
Tsukauchi gave a strained smile at what Jeanist said, and then he continued reading on for the rest of the room.
"She also shared some... concerning details about an incident when he was younger. Apparently Kobe was prone to violence as a child. Unpredictable, even dangerous. And when he was younger, one of the major incidents led to him hospitalizing Katsuki Bakugou who is now in UA."
Jeanist's expression darkened but the look of surprise washed over more.
"What happened after that?" He asked.
"He was sent to a correctional facility. Takashima Correctional facility." Tsukauchi confirmed. "Although we couldn't get any confirmation since the place had shut down three years ago. We have requested further information from higher ups."
Nighteye sighed, it was disappointing but his suspicion was also growing. Facilities like that would still have backup files on everything not just with higher ups like government bodies but also actual prison's since they were just subsidiaries.
That would be something to look into.
"His past is troubling yes, but that doesn't explain his alignment right now." he said, "There's something, or maybe someone, pushing him further down this path."
Kamui Woods straightened in his chair. "The others present during Lyra's extraction, what do we know about them?"
"One was a girl with a mutant quirk," Tsukauchi started to read off initiating the next portion of conversation. "She could glide through the air using fins and discharge bursts of electricity. Then there was another girl who appeared to have a strength-enhancing quirk. Her speed and agility were also abnormal."
"And there was a boy," Jeanist added. "My attacks... just slid off of him. I couldn't reach for his thread. It was just him redirecting physical force away from himself. Great defense."
"Is there anything on the registry relating to quirks like that? The latter one seems most unique," Kamui asked, the quirk of whoever fought Jeanist was most likely to be more isolated and easier to find with the details that was provided about it, more so compared to the girl that had a strength enhancing quirk.
Tsukauchi shook his head, "No. Nothing on who they were or on who they could even be working for. Although there are rumblings that the league are growing their forces. They have been quiet."
"The League?" Kamui asked with some apprehension. "I was thinking that they may have been working with Proxy."
Nighteye leaned back in his chair. "That seems a little more plausible." He said referring to Kamui Woods. "But I think he is either working for him or searching for him, which is what led him to taking Lyra Himemiya."
There was a pause, the room falling silent as the weight of their collective uncertainty settled over them. Then Nighteye spoke again, his tone colder now, sharper. "What about Lyra? What did you manage to get from her before she was taken?"
Tsukauchi tapped the file in front of him. "Not much," he admitted. "But what little she said was illuminating. She was coerced into working with Daigo Kiyoshi because he was holding her family hostage. A normal family, living peaceful lives in Yokohama, until he abducted them."
"And used them as leverage." Nighteye said, his voice quiet but intense.
"Exactly," Tsukauchi continued. "He threatened to send them into one of his fabricated worlds, like the one he created of Hosu. If she defied him, they'd be lost forever."
"Proxy's quirk allowed him to create tags that allow him to recreate real world objects into his virtual domain." Nighteye started. "Then that's where we start. If the tags were critical to his plan then we scour all of Yokohama, beginning with where Lyra Himemiya's family was last seen. We'll find them, and we'll find Proxy too."
Nighteye wasn't finished though, "And if Soryu is searching too, or working alongside him, we'll bring him in too."
Snipe adjusted his hat, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."
The room fell silent again, each person lost in their own thought. Some were gathering contacts to alert them of their next plans and what was necessary in getting ready for their next escapade.
Nighteye was already doing a mental map of the search and the steps he was planning to take in it.
"We begin immediately."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As jet engines hummed steadily beneath me, I flipped another page of the worn leather-bound diary I'd found tucked away in the library's forgotten corner. My seat vibrated faintly with the turbulence, but my focus was unshaken. The words scrawled in faded ink painted a grim picture of a history too easily dismissed.
The quirk registration act. The diary's author, some nameless MLA sympathizer, had described it's inception with venomous disdain. Enacted under the guise of public safety, the QRA required users to register their abilities, cataloguing power, range and potential danger.
The government claimed it was a measure to prevent quirk-based crimes, to ensure accountability. But the reality? It was just another tool for them to control.
The diary detailed the early days after the act's passage. Families torn apart as registration unearthed secrets people kept hidden for good reason. People with dangerous abilities but wanted to live normal lives were marked for danger and potential threats.
The government's rhetoric spoke of unity, of bridging gaps between quirk users and the quirkless, but their actions only fostered division. Quirkless neighbourhoods ostracized those that registered, employers only got scared and blacklisted those workers with "dangerous" abilities.
And then came drones, meant for monitoring. They patrolled the skies, scanning for unregistered quirks. Random inspections in schools and workplaces. People dragged out of their homes in the dead of night for failing to comply. The act dehumanized us... it turned quirks into commodities, turned us into points in their system.
The MLA finally seized the moment. Their rhetoric was more relentless and reckless, branding the QRA as nothing less than a betrayal of human rights. Posters plastered on the city walls depicted commanding figures shackling a brighter figure labelled, "The future."
Speeches from MLA leaders, broadcasted illegally, compared the act to many more historical atrocities of the old world before quirks became what they were.
I leaned back, staring out the small plane window as the land below blurred into abstract shapes. My stomach twisted. Even now, decades later, the echo. I wondered how much of my own life had been shaped by these shadows of the past.
But it wasn't just the QRA. The diary took me to an even darker turn as it delved into The Purge of 2080.
"A cleansing," they called it. What a joke.
The government had been desperate to snuff out the MLA's growing influence. Membership was rising, fueled by anger over the QRA. The MLA wasn't just a movement, it was a fire, spreading through the youth, oppressed workers, and anyone who felt the weight of society's fear. So, the government struck first. Hard.
They called the operation, "Higan no Ketsuzoku". Officially, it was a series of targeted operations against suspected MLA stronghold. In reality? It was a slaughter...The diary's author didn't hold back on descriptions: homes raided without warning, children taken as collateral, private executions in front of crowds of affluent higher up individuals. Entire neighbourhoods burned under the pretense of "cleansing dissent."
The brutality was meant to crush the MLA. instead, it did the opposite. The Purge became a rallying cry. Survivors were scarred, orphaned, displaced, they flocked to the MLA's cause. The public, horrified by the government's overreach, began to see the MLA as a necessary resistance instead of a threat.
I ran my fingers over the cracked leather of the diary cover, lost in though. These weren't just stories. This was the foundation of everything we're fighting today, I guess. The MLA only forged in the flames of the government's fear and hubris. And the echoes of that creation resonated with an entire city's worth of people ready to pounce at any moment.
"What are you reading?" a voice broke my thoughts.
I glanced up. Nagant sat across from me, her legs crossed, a faint smirk on her face. She wasn't wearing her usual aloofness, instead, her eyes held genuine curiosity.
"History," I said, my voice dry. "Stuff about the creation of this organization and stuff. It's probably a little... or a lot biased thought."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further.
I turned my attention back to the diary. the plane dipped slightly, signalling our descent into Yokohama. My grip on the book tightened.
A lot of these books could just be seen as relics of the past. Or they could be seen as information on what may come in the future.
I felt something trying to slip out of my right pocket, it was the USB, I tucked it back in before zipping up my pocket.
I had brought that out with us because there was a lot less surveillance outside. So I can find a computer, probably some public one or something and then figure out what is on it.
The feeling I keep getting from it is telling me that it is something important.
____Arata lead the group with his quiet air of authority, his voice calm but decisive. "We'll need rest before anything else. Pushing through now won't help us."
Nagant nodded, her sharp gaze sweeping the streets like she was expecting a threat to materialize at any moment. "It's already late."
Ren, broke into a wide grin. "This place is amazing. I've never been to Yokohama before—it feels like the start of one of those big movies where the main character starts off in a small town and sails out into the wider regions."
Nagant smirked faintly, her tone dry as she shot a sidelong glance at the excitable Ren. "A movie? Back when I was working with the commission, it was more like a crime documentary. There were many yakuza groups at war trying to take over the bay. A lot of smuggling, racketeering, you name it."
Ren's eyes widened, her steps quickening to match Nagant's stride. "Seriously? Did you ever, like, fight them? Take down a whole gang?"
"A few run-ins." Nagant started. "I worked with a team. And a lot were arrested. That was years ago now. Most of the big families either went underground or got swallowed up by something bigger."
"Cool, cool, cool." Ren said, nodding enthusiastically. "So, if we do run into some old-school yakuza, what's the protocol? Bow respectfully or start fighting?"
Nagant raised a brow, "If we run into one and they want to fight, then we fight—"
"But we should keep our heads down and not try to run into them unless they have information on our mission." Miku, who was silent while walking behind us, cut in.
Avoiding unnecessary trouble would be the best course of action. Best we keep quiet and do our job as quickly as possible. But I still had my other plans, now that I am out of Deika city, I had a chance to move on my own.
"First let's find a hotel. Then we talk about plans the next morning." Arata said.
The city's rhythm shifted as we moved deeper into it's maze of narrow alleys and bustling thoroughfares. Eventually, we arrived at a small, nondescript hotel tucked between a convenience store and a ramen shop. The sign above the entrance flickered faintly.
The lobby was simple but clean, the faint scent of lavender air freshener blending with the polish of worn wood floors. The clerk handed us keys with a smile that seemed more rehearsed than genuine.
Ren bounced on her heels as we rode the elevator to our rooms, her energy as irreplaceable as ever. "I call the window bed!"
Nagant raised a brow, Arata had already told her that she would be sharing a room with Ren, her tone was laced with a mocking expression. "No one's calling anything punk."
"Yeah they are. I called it!" Ren stuck her tongue out, Nagant seemed a lot more comfortable with these people after our last mission.
She muttered something about patience, though I did see a small smirk on her face.
Miku, holding her single keycard like it was a ticket to freedom, slipped out of the elevator the moment we reached her floor. She didn't say a word, but there was relief on her face.
By the time we reached our room, Arata's steady presence had almost become a comfort, not something I wanted. He opened the door, stepping aside to let me in first.
"Get some rest," he said, setting his bag down with the kind of deliberate care that spoke of routine. "We're going to be real busy tomorrow."
I flopped onto the nearest bed, kicking my shoes off with a carelessness I didn't entirely feel. "Rest. Got it boss."
Arata glanced at me, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a faint smile. He didn't press, and for that, I was grateful. He had a way of knowing when to push a topic and when to let things slide.
The room was unremarkable, two small beds, a window overlooking a small section of the city, and a desk cluttered with a few complimentary bottles of water. Outside, Yokohama hummed with life, it's energy seeping through the walls.
Arata stretched, his movements unhurried. "you've been quiet tonight," he remarked, his tone casual.
"Must be jet lag," I said, keeping my voice light.
He hummed in acknowledgement, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he turned away.
As he settled into his bed, his breathing evening out into the steady rhythm of sleep, my own thoughts refused to keep quiet. The USB was still in my pocket, it felt heavier, like a light weight strapped to my leg. I couldn't shake that whatever was on it was extremely important to me.
Time dragged on in the stillness of the room, the clock's faint tick-tick marking every agonizing second. I lay motionless, my body tense as I listened to Arata's breathing deepen.
Two hours. Then another half an hour.
When I was sure he was asleep, I shifted carefully, my movements as quiet as the shadows. My quirk, thrummed beneath my skin as it activated. The sensation was always strange when I planned on using it in this manner—my body flattened into something thin and weightless, like paper caught in between pages of a book.
Sliding through the narrow gap in the window was effortless. The city opened up beneath me, it's lights as scattered and mosaic of colour and movement. The air was cool against my paper-thin form, carrying me gently downward as I drifted away from the hotel.
Below, Yokohama's streets seemed quiet. I only recognized the minute movement from cars in motion or people coming home from late shifts of their jobs.
I landed on the ground and followed the tugging sensation within my gut, guiding me to a location that I needed to be in.
A library.
The biggest one in the city. Closed but I didn't have to be told what to do next.
***After sneaking into the wide space filled with rows and rows of books, I kept my head and face covered. The air was silent, broken only by the faint, rhythmic squeak of the janitor's mop on the floor below. He whistled to himself, a cheerful tune that felt alien in the dense quietness of the building.
The computer station loomed above, an island of cold glass and steel overlooking the labyrinth of shelves. I ascended the stairs swiftly but silently, each step feeling like a countdown to something monumental. Once at the top, I slid into a chair at the terminal facing the entrance, my back pressed against the wall. Habit—always keep an eye on the exits.
"Alright, let's get this done." I muttered under my breath, though my voice barely stirred the air around me.
I pulled the USB from my pocket, it's edges digging into my palm, and slotted it into the port. The screen flared to life, and the interface blinked, waiting. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, and then they moved. Not with conscious thought, not with deliberation, but a certainty that felt otherworldly.
Patterns, keystrokes, commands flowed through me like a current, as though some invisible force guided my hands. Characters filled the screen—a long, impossible string of letters, numbers and symbols. The lock gave a soft chime, and the files unraveled before me.
The screen lit up with folder after folder, each one labeled with terse, cryptic names. I clicked on the first and I almost gasped at the name of it.
Eden Project Overview. The document opened, and my breath hitched as the words unfurled before me.
'This is about the Eden Project.' I wanted to be happy. I finally had the proof I needed, it was right in my pocket from a stupid game that I was forced in. I should feel happy but I didn't really feel it.
Proxy had this information. For a while I was wondering if Daigo Kiyoshi could have been a part of the project, victim or otherwise. And now I feel he is connected even more so.
A list of names appeared, among the names listed as architects of this nightmare project was Hideaki Mitsuhara, a high-ranking official within the Hero Public Safety Commission. His old ideology practically appeared in my mind from an old clip I had seen on the internet.
Hero society must evolve, or it will crumble under its own stagnation.
It was his manifesto. And he had appeared in many online talks in the past as well as appearing alongside news anchors and such to speak on what he believed were issues in the hero society.
If one tried to look for those same interviews it was incredibly hard. It was like they were all being blocked out.
Although there were rumours of him recanting many of his previous statements.
Other names listed were: Ichiro Kawabata, Mariko Hisakawa, Daisuke Ishimura. Faceless men and woman who wielded influence like weapons. And then the financiers, sprawling lists of wealthy elite within the nation.
Among them was a name that many people knew, Haruto Fujimoto, the founder of countless orphanages and relief programs. The realization struck me like a blow, many of the children in those orphanages seem to have been part of the project. Sacrificed with no one knowing, no one asking after the parentless children.
My hands clenched into fists. Haruto Fujimoto. I stared at his name, and an unfamiliar heat rose in my chest—a mix of anger and helplessness.
I forced myself to move quicker through the information. One caught my attention.
Participant Rankings. I clicked it. It was as the title labelled itself, a ranking system. It ranked potential, like it was a commodity, like the hero rankings.
My name was ranked in third. Third. Above me in second was the name, Saya Kurotsuki, the name didn't bring memories but the face did. Hair the colour of crimson blood jewels, the hair framed her angular face. Her eyes are empty, a cold amber colour. Her skin was pale and smooth with streaks of dried tears in the picture.
I remember her quirk was strong, she controlled her blood. Within the Eden Project we had fought a lot, it was part of the program, I had beat her some times, yes, but she had beaten me too many times for me to count.
And then there was first place, Daiki Tenma. Seeing his face almost made my heart jump. I never beat him. I had only come close once.
Daiki wasn't just strong, he was like a force of nature, one of the only people that even though hated the project, thrived in it and seemed completely content within it's barriers.
He was a ball of raw power, remembering his brute force approach to things reminded me so much of the All Might replica I had fought in the game world. Daiki was incredibly strong and through the whispered conversations people had within those walls, they believed him to be the only one there that would end up comparable to All Might.
I wonder what he could be doing now? He would be in his latter years of teenagerhood. I doubted he was dead, but he was someone who thrived in the violence, I don't believe that he would sit idle and play it at a normal life.
Him potentially being a villain would be terrible. He would be doing the opposite of the teachings we were all put through... but hey, look at me.
I put my head back down and scrolled past that and moved on to another file that shown the title:
Methodologies. They were ideas to make us stronger, or really, more subservient.
They did this through what was supposedly the easiest way, trauma. We were beaten, isolated and starved. Trauma was used as a tool to break us and reshape us into weapons.
And then I found my entry.
The memory came unbidden. 'Had I forgotten?'
It was strange, it was like a picture in my mind was being blacked out with ash, and something was wiping it away revealing the long lost memory back to me. It swallowed me whole.
I was nine. They had beaten me for hours, their fists and boots reducing me to a trembling heap on the floor. But I hadn't given them what they wanted. I'd spat the blood onto the concrete and glared up at the face's covered by pure white cloth.
So they'd tried something else.
They put me in a room, stark and sterile, with a dozen men. Random people who had also volunteered for money I was told. A whisper dropped down into my ear that told me they were hopeless and lazy bums of society.
Their mouths were gagged, their hands bound by mechanical cuffs that hissed and clicked with every movement. I didn't understand at first. I thought it was another test of endurance, a game of waiting.
A day passed. The cuffs were removed.
Only the cuffs and blindfolds. The men stared wide and hollow, they stared at me with hungry eyes. Fear gnawed at the edges of my resolve, but I stayed still. And then the door opened, and someone walked in...Their face was obscured, shrouded in shadow, but their arms were... wrong. Chainsaws replaced their limbs, revving to life with a mechanical snarl that echoed in the room.
The men tried to run, but they couldn't, not a single one. The slaughter was swift and brutal. Blood sprayed the walls, the floor, my skin. Limbs were severed, bodies torn apart. I couldn't move, couldn't scream. All I could do was watch as the chainsaw figure dismantled the room, leaving nothing but red ruin in it's wake. When it was over, they turned and left without saying a word, slamming the door shut behind them.
I was left alone again. Alone with corpses, the stench of... death, the sticky warmth of blood pooling around me. Three days. Three days I was left in that room afterward, the silence broken only by the drip of blood. I remember curling up in the corner, my knees drawn to my chest, trying to keep the darkness from swallowing me up.
The memory faded. My hands trembled.
I clenched and unclenched them, trying to regain control, go back to normal.
'So much death.'
And I couldn't do anything. Why wasn't I next?
All those bodies, hollow and torn apart with no mercy. Rotting and decomposed.
The memory brought the sight of Yui, dying in the games to Abyss.
It brought memories of all the people I had seen die from the beginning, from the Eden Project and from the games and even underground fights I had been to.
A sick feeling was worming it's way through my core as I failed to stop the shaking. My mask was falling off and I could feel tears stinging my eyes.
All those faces of the dead instantly morphed into my face.
I think.... I'm... I think...
'I'm scared to die.'
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I have killed before.
Before Nine, before Abyss.
It was while I was part of the Eden's Project.
I remember the first time it happened. Not the face or even the gender of the person though. I think I had blocked that out, all I remember when it comes to any kind of identity was the fact that they were called Subject number 17.
The sharp snap of action, the sound of him hitting the ground. I didn't think, didn't pause. And when it was over, I slowly started to realize that I had already begun letting instinct take over. Like the way animals moved when faced with a predator.
At first I thought I felt anger, guilt or even disgust. But there was nothing. Just silence, like a dull hum in the back of my mind. It felt like I had done the right thing, followed the right steps for survival.
I didn't argue. I learned quickly, that hesitation was no option. I acted because if I didn't, I would be the one lying in his own pool of blood, or struggling for a basic human right such as air, while dying.
The lines blurred and by the end of it all, I was different.
I was free of the facility when I was 12. But I didn't immediately return home. Honestly, I even forgot I had one, forgot I had a family. And even when they came back to memory, I just didn't care.
I didn't want to go back, so for the next 7 months I didn't. I went around Japan, and then I thought it better to leave the country and maybe I would find something to strive for.
I remember the process of getting out the country being hard, no legal means of course. But when I was out, I just shut down, turned off. I don't know how to explain it, but it was something I done whenever going through experiments I didn't want to during the project.
I think they called it disassociation.
Through that, sometimes it felt like I had teleported to random locations in the world. The first country I ended up in was Cape Verde, western Africa.
Cape Verde was... different. I'd never been out of the country before. The archipelago had a strange charm to it, the salty breeze, the rhythm of it's people. Music seemed to hum through the streets, and laughter was constant. It was warm, vibrant, alive.
The people carried their history in their voices and their movements, and yet, there was a quiet weight in the air.
I wanted to fit.
I stayed in a small fishing town on the island of Sáo Vicente, a little old lady allowed me to stay with her, all I had to do was simple menial work, like help her with her shopping and cleaning up around the house and even some small farm work.
At first, the locals regarded me with slight suspicion, a scrawny kid with no explanation for how I'd gotten there. But their kindness chipped away at me. They taught me to mend nets and season fish just right. The food... I still remember the cachupa, a slow cooked stew.
The language wasn't difficult to pick up. I was already familiar with many languages as learning was a major part of the Eden Project.
I was familiar with Portuguese, but their Creole had it's own different rhythm to it. I'd listened to the locals talk about their days, their dreams, their families. They didn't ask much about mine, thankfully.
My father... I remember before he had died, he mentioned to me and my sister that he had spent some time here in Cape Verde before journeying to Japan and he met my mother. I wondered if I was following in his footsteps, if I had walked the same beaches he did, heard the same songs. It was strange, feeling so close to someone I hardly even think of anymore.
After four months, I realized I didn't fit here. With them all, their cheery upbeat atmosphere. I wanted to be, but I couldn't. I couldn't pick myself up.
The next country I ended up in, was Spain.
Spain was nothing like Cape Verde. The weather could be the same, but when it was cold, it was much colder, in more ways than one.
And I hated how normal it felt to me.
The cities were grand, their old history etched into it's stone, it was one of the only major countries in the world that still had a lot of it's history still up from before quirks had blessed... or invaded humanity.
The citizens carried themselves differently too. Colder, more snobbish and the air around many of them was suffocating.
But it was still a beautiful country.
I stayed in a quiet village in Andalusia. It felt trapped in time, like nothing there had changed in centuries. The cobblestone streets, the sprawling vineyards, the small bread baking in wood-fired ovens... It was beautiful in it's own way.
It was something I never thought I would get used to, but I did like it.
People born with mutant quirks were discriminated against in such a bad light. Actually even some people with transformation quirks are looked at badly, it was a systemic issue that certainly was not going to disappear anytime soon.
Mutants had fought for their rights, but even now, they were barely holding on. They lived in separate areas, the scars of that struggle were everywhere, if you knew where to look.
Japan was much further ahead when it came to mutant acceptance, the mutants in Spain were just quiet, they accepted their reality, and those who didn't were silenced. Well I never confirmed that, but I wouldn't be surprised.
It was in that small, quiet village that I met an elder man. His name was Esteban Ortiz. He was old, with a lined face and a hollow gaze. His left eye was covered with a patch, the scar beneath it running jagged across his cheek.
He told me he lost his eye in the civil war, a war against his own people. Esteban Ortiz had fought on the side of the monarchy, against mutant rebels who demanded nothing more than equality.
"I thought I was doing the right thing." he said one evening when I had asked.
His voice was heavy with regret as we sat in his modest sitting room. The space was humble, but it's walls bore his past. Medals glinted in polished frames, photographs immortalized him standing proudly beside members of Spain's royal family.
Yet his gaze now, out of one eye, carried no pride. Only grief.
"I see their faces in my dreams," he continued, his words faltering.
"The one's we fought against. They weren't monsters. They weren't some great threat to our way of life. They were just people. People who wanted what we had, to live and be seen as equals. And I... I helped take that away from them."
His hand trembled as he gestured toward the medals on the wall. He scoffed bitterly.
"I hold them there to constantly remind me of the hell I was a part of. Of what I cannot undo."
I remember just sitting there, with a book in my hand. Esteban's anguish was so palpable it made the air feel heavy.
He looked back to me, his expression a mix of curiosity and sorrow.
"You're an odd one..." his tone grew softer.
"You're so young yet you speak like someone far older. And this fascination you have with the war..." he shook his head.
"It's not normal for one your age."
He let out a tired laugh, though it lacked any real joy.
During that time, Esteban had believed, at least partly, that what he was doing during the war was for the greater good. He thought Spain's people would be better off living, and looking, as human as possible. It was a deeply ingrained prejudice, one he now condemned himself for. He hated what he'd done, hated the ideals he'd once fought for, and hated the part of himself that had ever believed in him.
I reflected on some of the stories he'd told me, fragments of a war stained by fear and ignorance. Mutants driven from their homes, their communities burned to the ground. Families torn apart by forced separations. And in the end, even the rebels victories felt hollow. Their "quarters," as they were called, were nothing more than cages, a bitter compromise rather than true equality.
"I hope you'll learn something from all this. Not all battles are worth fighting. And not all victories are worth winning."
His words would stick with me for some time.
After three months, shortly after my thirteenth birthday, I left Spain and decided to return back to Asia. But even then, I didn't go back home right away.
Looking back on it, I think I was just looking for ways to avoid going home.
***It started as an idle curiosity. I was sitting in the corner of a dingy internet cafe in Hong Kong, the hum of outdated computers filling the air. The room smelled like burnt coffee and something sweet, but that didn't matter. I'd been bouncing between countries for months by then, following whatever caught my interest.
The stories of war, and why people fought swirled through my mind. I thought it was interesting how, power, perception and control shaped people's lives.
Money. That was the ultimate form of control.
I'd seen it everywhere, the desperation of the poor, the unchecked arrogance of the wealthy. I had quickly developed an interest in gaining wealth and seeing how people use their money.
The idea came to me like a spark. In a world so obsessed with appearances, money had to be hidden, laundered and made to disappear. Not just for criminals, but for anyone who wanted to preserve their status, dodge scrutiny, or build empires in the shadows.
At first, it was just plain research. I spent hours poring over forums, piecing together how money flowed through shell companies, offshore accounts, and cryptocurrencies. The systems were complex, but not beyond understanding. What struck me was how clumsy some of it was—how much room there was for someone smarter, faster, more creative.
So I built something better.
It wasn't easy, but I was good. My system started as a simple network, multiple layers of ever-changing encryptions that I could easily get through because of my second quirk, and digital wallets bouncing transactions across multiple currencies. Then it grew.
I automated the process, created dummy corporations with airtight documentation, and ensured everything could be done with minimal human involvement.
Only one month in and I had multiple clients, small time criminals and some dummy clients that I later found out were basically test dummies for the rich, to see if my operations were legit.Word spread quickly, by the years end, I was handling money for people I had only seen on the news, villains, politicians and even heroes who needed to keep their side deals hidden as well as avoidance of tax.
Now, at fifteen, nearly sixteen. I was processing hundreds of millions of dollars a year, I assume in the next year it will cross a billion. The system practically ran itself, and I didn't even have to worry about it when I was trapped in the Hosu Game.
Of course, no one knew my real name. I had clients all over the world. The fees were small enough not to raise suspicion, but large enough to make me rich beyond anything I'd thought or even been interested in.
I had started this little operation when I was thirteen, and in the few short years it has been running, I had a total of a little over 30 million dollars, which was equal to 3,900,000,000 yen.
A ridiculous number, one that felt meaningless when I thought about it. I felt nothing, no pride, no guilt, not even fear. Again, I felt nothing.
"I should do something with this money," I muttered to myself.
"What was that Kobe?" Ren asked in a curious voice, she was a few paces ahead of me alongside Miku.
I waved her off, looking around and finally taking myself out of past thoughts.
"Nothing Ren."
It was nothing for now. After all the information I had seen that came from the Eden Project I decided that my time to act on that was coming soon.
But for now, there was still work to do in Yokohama.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Dabi leaned against the crumbling brick of one of the League's newer hideouts, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. The ember glowed faintly in the dim, flickering light, casting a light over his scarred jaw.
He didn't smoke it so much as he let it burn, the slow rise of smoke curling into the air, dissolving into the musty scent of mildew and damp concrete. The place reeked of stale sweat, charred fabric, and an acrid undertone of something metallic. It was like an unmistakeable perfume of the League of Villains.
The League had grown—exploded, really—ever since the Hosu Game. Dabi had watched as Shigaraki made one really smart ally in Cipher, who had some status in the underworld already, although they didn't get their new hires just because of that, Dabi could see and understand that All For One had a hand in it.
Now their ranks were swelling with the kinds of people society liked to forget. Misfits. Rejects. Monsters. Dabi's eyes roved over the room, his expression half-lidded, his mind turning over the newcomers one by one.
Saya Kurotsuki, the blood bender. She sat cross-legged in a corner. her pale fingers absently tracing the patterns on the floor. Her blood red hair fell like curtains, shielding her face from view, but every so often, Dabi caught a glimpse of her eyes, sharp and amber.
She didn't speak much, but when she did, it was usually with a snarky edge that made even Twice hesitate. Dabi didn't mind her. She kept to herself or around the other one she waltzed in with.
Daiki Tenma. Dabi watched him rest his hand over the zipper of his black leather jacket. Dabi remembers the way Daiki came in, nonchalant, and dismissive.
Daiki's arrogance was like an overbearing cologne. It grated on Dabi's nerves. Something in that brash and condescending arrogance reminded him too much of his father. Dabi exhaled a stream of smoke, his lip curling slightly. He didn't like Daiki, but he was good muscle, frighteningly strong.
Dabi wanted to know where someone like that had been hiding this whole time, he was young too, younger than Dabi.
Now the type of arrogance Dabi didn't mind watching came in the form of Muscular. A dumb brick of a person with a lot of strength. He was a lot easier to be around, easier to control if necessary. Loud and obnoxious most of the time though, and much too bloodthirsty, so much so he can barely hold still.
The rhythmic scrape of metal on stone grating against Dabi's ears. Mummy—a member of Nine's old crew—was perched on a crate, idly sharpening, or shining, Dabi didn't know, a long blade of his that he actively kept on his back.
There were two more from Nine's crew that were also there. They joined the League after their boss had died and seemed to be looking for revenge, revenge against Lady Nagant and Soryu.
The room buzzed with the low murmur of voices, the occasional burst of laughter or snarl punctuating the din. It was a hive of villains, each more dangerous than the last, and Dabi wasn't sure if that was a good thing in the long run.
The League was stronger now, sure. Dabi's gaze shifted to Shigaraki, who was seated at the head of the room, his head resting on his right hand. He looked like he was asleep. Dabi always wondered if their leader knew what he was building up here. Power like this is volatile, a power keg waiting for a spark. In some ways, that is exactly what Dabi wants, but he still wanted to be ahead of it, so that he can fulfill his own plans.
He took another drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly before fading. The truth gnawed at him, sharp and unrelenting. He'd had pride in his flames, more so now than ever before, his flames burned hotter than anyone else's. But now? He felt odd, like he was surrounded around people that could crush him with little to no effort. He gazed back to Daiki.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, one the cigarette couldn't mask.
His mind wandered to a conversation he had with the doctor. Doctor Garaki had told Dabi that he could easily surpass his limits. Dabi knew that his weak constitution he had gotten from his mother was what was holding him back.
The stage was set, but it felt like a noose was tightening around him. Getting tighter and tighter in his stagnation.
"Dabi," Kurogiri's voice broke through his thoughts, smooth and measured as always. The smoky portal floated a few feet away. "The doctor is ready for you."
Dabi exhaled slowly, the smoke curling from his lips like a sigh. He dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. "Guess it's showtime," he muttered, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. But beneath the smirk, he felt it—that nervous energy coiled tight in his gut. Not fear... just anticipation.
Kurogiri opened a portal, the swirling void beckoning like an open wound in reality. Dabi hesitated for only a moment before stepping through, the world shifting around him in a disorienting blur. When he emerged, the air was colder, sterile, tinged with the faint hum of machinery and the sharp bite of disinfectant.
Doctor Garaki's lab was a nightmare given form. The room was vast, it's walls lined with water-filled casings housing incomplete Nomu, their grotesque forms floating lifelessly in the pale blue light. The air was heavy with the hum of electrical currents, the occasional crackle of static punctuating the silence. A metallic tang lingered in the air, mingling with the faint, sickly-sweet scent of decay.
At the center of it all was Doctor Garaki, hunched over his massive computer desk, the screens casting his face in an eerie glow. His hands moved with frantic precision, scribbling notes on a clipboard before typing furiously on the keyboard. The man was a blur of motion, his mutterings a constant stream of half-formed thoughts and calculations.
"Ah Dabi," the Doctor said without looking up, his voice a mix of excitement and impatience. "You're here. Good, good. We're ready to begin."
Dabi's eyes scanned over the room, taking in every detail. The flickering monitors displayed streams of data, diagrams of Nomu anatomy, and lines of incomprehensible code. The Nomu themselves seemed to watch him, their vacant eyes a reminder of what he was about to become. His fingers flexed at his sides, the faint crackle of his flames grounding him in the moment.
"Let's get this over with." he said.
Garaki finally turned, his wide grin splitting his face as his small as his small eyes glinted with something that must have been curiosity or madness. "Ah, impatient as ever. But that's fine. It's only natural, given the... nature of the procedure."
Dabi raised a brow, his lips twitching into a humourless smirk. "You gonna lecture me, or are we doing this?"
The doctor chuckled, stepping away from his desk to approach one of the monitors. "A moment of patience, my dear Dabi. You've made a bold choice—an evolution, really—and you deserve to understand the benefits." His fingers danced across the keyboard, pulling up a detailed diagram of a Nomu's cellular structure alongside what looked like a fragmented DNA sequence.
"You see, thanks to Overhaul's experiments and my own refinements, I've perfected a way to imbue human subjects with the genetic makeup of a Nomu without erasing their personlity, autonamy and life."
Dabi's eyes narrowed. "That's... comforting." he said dryly.
Garaki ignored the sarcasm, his tone taking on the reverence of an artist explaining their masterpiece. "With the body you are merging with, you will be receiving a regenerative quirk—a weak one, mind you, so you can heal from your flames and not end up killing yourself. And an enhancement to your basic physical strength, again, subtle but substantial. Your body will mend itself, endure more, and burn brighter than ever before."
He turned back to Dabi, his expression giddy. "Imagine it: no longer shackled by those simple limits of yours, your flames will be a more unrelenting weapon of destruction. You've been pushing your body to the brink for years, haven't you? This will free you."
Dabi crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the screen. The implications churned in his mind. Strength without compromise. The scars will still be there but so what, he was already used to them.
Garaki continued, his voice softer but no less fervent. "Let me assure you, Dabi, you have made the right decision. The process will be excruciating, yes. But isn't pain something you've grown accustomed to? Something that drives you?"
Dabi's smirk faded, replaced by a solemn look that he tried to mask with dismissiveness. "I'm not here to second-guess myself, Doc. Just do it."
The doctor clapped his hands together, almost gleeful. "Excellent, excellent! Then step this way." He gestured toward a surgical table in the center of the room, surrounded by an intricate network of tubes, syringes, and mechanical arms tipped with sinister looking tools.
As Dabi moved toward the table, the faint echoes of his footsteps seemed to grow heavier, as though each step anchored him deeper into the inevitability of what lay ahead. The Nomu tanks loomed over him, silent witnesses to his resolve.
He climbed onto the cold metal surface, the chill biting through his thin shirt. Garaki busied himself with adjustments, muttering under his breath about "cellular fusion" and "Quirk harmonization."
For the first time, a flicker of something akin to doubt crept into Dabi's mind. But he squashed it with a sharp inhale, the smell of antiseptic filling his lungs. He had chosen this path. He would see it through.
The doctor loomed over him, syringe in hand, his expression alight with anticipation. "Brace yourself. This will hurt... wonderfully."
And with that, the needle plunged into his arm, and the world fractured into a storm of searing pain and blinding light.
___We were in a car workshop, the air was thick with rust and spray paint. It clung to anything, and was fading into the concrete walls.
Nagant leaned against the edge of the table, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her sharp gaze swept across the rest of us as she spoke, the clipped tone of her voice cut through. "I've got nothing. No leads, no traces that Proxy may have left, and not even a whisper of any former yakuza members. I scoured every angle I could think of. The city's been cleaned of them."
She didn't mince words, if they hadn't left initially they had probably died. The frustration in her tone was palpable, though she kept her composure as tight as ever.
Arata stood across from her, his arms folded over his chest, his stance calm and steady. "That's alright." he said, his voice was reassuring. "We still have time. We've been given two weeks to find something on Daigo Kiyoshi or the family of Lyra Himemiya. That's even more than enough. It's a difficult task, but we'll manage."
I listened, but my mind began to wander as Arata's words played over the silence. There was still time, but even that time was cut short because heroes most likely already knew of Lyra's outcome, and that would likely lead them to also searching the city for her family.
I wondered which heroes would show up.
Another image made it's way into my mind. It was of Kaede, who interrogated Lyra back at the base. Before we left she used her quirk to transfer images of the supposed bungalow that her family was kept in.
It stood at the edge of a dense forest, trees were towering and gnarled, their branches twisted like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky. The structure itself was small, almost unassuming, yet it carried an air of foreboding. Time had not been kind to it—the wooden panels were warped and weathered, the faded remnants of paint curling away to reveal the raw timber beneath.
Vines crawled up it's sides like creeping veins, their deep green muted by the grey of dust and decay. There was a large double panel window that was dark, not allowing anyone to see the insides.
Kaede says that Lyra had never been inside of it, so she wasn't able to search the inner workings of the home.
Nagant's voice snapped me back to the present.
"We're not spinning our wheels," she said, "Proxy isn't a ghost."
"But he can disappear like one." I fired back. She sent me a quick cold glare.
She was confident but was also growing frustrated. It was understandable, she probably didn't even want much relating to Daigo Kiyoshi. We had to find him, she, like others in the team we're in, probably felt safe in numbers.
Any one of us had a small chance to run away if it got too bad and the villain was stuck on one for too long. I wouldn't blame her, or anyone.
The Hosu Game, where she was forced to fight the strongest hero in history, that was something she probably doesn't like thinking about.
I found it a little odd how little I think of it.
Miku was murmuring to herself, her voice was softer than the usual sharp and savage, no non-sense tone she usually had. "Proxy has already shown the world he is a smarter than average psychopath. He can make traces disappear, so we really just have to be in the right place at the right time. Or find a way to follow his exact steps and hope that he left something for us to trap him with."
"Our focus is still that family." Ren said, she said it in a strong matter-of-fact tone.
She probably didn't even think of finding the villain. Out of many, if not most, members of the Meta Liberation Army, Ren is probably someone that is most hero like.
She is someone with a strong fire in her chest and is actually really kind, quite dense too but she tries her best. It was hard to hate someone like that. Someone like her would typically have been in a hero school, thriving. Which led me to believe that Destro just got to her much too early.
"You're right Ren." Arata smiled, it looked like a strained smile. "We almost lost sight of our goal. We're here to find our new allies family and bring them back home with us. Give them a better life."
I let the conversation lull for a moment before casually shifting the subject. "I've been hearing things. Rumours back at the base. Apparently, we're all going to be part of something big before the year's out. Any truth to that?"
Miku's eyes snapped to me, her suspicion sharpened like a blade on whetstone. She didn't say a word, but her gaze was enough to make me want to check my pockets for holes.
Arata chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair. "Something big, huh? I've heard similar whispers," he said easily. "I don't know the specifics, but yeah, there is something in motion. We'll be working with someone very important—someone close to the organization."
His tone was smooth, almost too smooth. I knew he had lied about not knowing details about what was to come. But that was fine, it only made the game of finding it out more entertaining.
Although it did give me some Deja Vu on the man named All for One. Nagant told me some more about him, everything she knew from when she had worked in the commission. Like how he most likely has some form of prolonged life as a quirk and probably also through some scientific reach. The man has been alive for long.
That could be bad if he already has his hands on the MLA. From the few stories I've heard of the man, I realised that he is someone I just don't want to be near. Someone that can steal quirks.
Steal personalities basically, stealing what makes an individual themselves.
Well I've went a long fifteen years without ever hearing the name or knowing of his existence. And many more have never heard of him either, and since he has some prolonged life, I could be fortunate enough to never have to see him show himself to the public.
But that could just be me jinxing myself.
I still had to give a response to Arata, Miku was highly suspicious, but that didn't matter.
"Well, if something big is coming and it happens before we surrender Proxy. Maybe Nagant and I can truly show our efforts." That was a load of crap, and Miku snarled. I smirked before looking past her.
"With the whole country searching for Daigo Kiyoshi, I doubt he'll make it to the end of the year though."
Arata's smile didn't waver, although it seemed even more strained before, his eyes were growing thinner. "That'd be ideal," he said lightly. "Let's focus on the task at hand for now. We'll regroup in the morning and pick up where we left off."
Nagant pushed off a pillar and nodded curtly. "Fine by me."
One by one, the group began to disperse. Ren left with Arata, her lively chatter picked up and echoed as they walked away. Miku lingered a moment longer, her gaze fixed on me before she left.
Nagant and I left together in the opposite direction. I wanted to wait for some time before I began speaking, and she seemed fine with the silence which was good.
I had some stuff to think about.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The evening air was heavy with the scent of smoke. There was a lot of smoke in the air of the city, something I had noticed once we had landed.
Lanterns flickered along the narrow street, their light dancing on the uneven cobblestones. Nagant walked ahead of me, her strides purposeful yet lacking the tension I'd grown accustomed to. Tonight she carried only her thoughts, though they seemed more burdening than usual.
"You know," she began, her voice slicing through the ambient hum of crickets and far-off engines. "Back when I was still chasing after yakuza and other minor gangs, there were men..." She trailed off, glancing at the cracked moon above. "Men I thought would outlive the worst of it. The kind who..." Her lips pressed into a thin line, her usual composure giving way to something raw. "Who'd face hell with a smile and spit in the devils eye."
I stuffed my hand in my pockets, letting her words settle. "And?" I prompted.
"And they're gone now," she said bluntly, "Dead. Scattered with the wind. The few foot soldiers that I did find are now working menial jobs, bowing to people that they certainly wouldn't have even given a glance to when they were still in that life." She laughed a sharp and humourless laugh.
"Did you care for any of them?" It sounded like she did, maybe her past was there. Like a family member or something.
She stayed silent for a moment before speaking again.
"It's pathetic. I thought I'd feel some kind of closure seeing people like that gone. People I spent so much time playing cat and mouse with. Instead I just..." She stopped abruptly, kicking a loose pebble into the gutter.
I think I understood it somewhat now. She probably felt some nostalgic or homely feeling when she thinks of her time then, just starting out as a hero working for the commission. Getting her first big job, back when she was naive and blind to the greyness of the world. Thinking that her career as a hero would always be like what it was then, chasing the "bad guys."
And now that sense of familiarity and simpler times had been snuffed out.
"Makes you realize how fragile it all was?" I offered, stepping beside her. She gave me a sidelong glance but didn't argue.
"I just want this thing with Daigo over." she muttered. "Him, the Commission, all of it. I want it to be over and done with."
Her frustration was growing, she was more erratic than usual. She was typically more calm and rigid, even if she were mad you wouldn't notice it from her motion, but now...
"No need to rush," I said, my voice calm, deliberate. "The pieces will fall into place. All we have to do is fall in line."
Nagant stopped walking, turning to face me fully. The light from the nearby lantern caught the edge of her jaw, casting her face in a light of sharp relief. "And after? What then, Kobe? You think this all ends with a bow? You think the commission will just... let me walk away?"
I held her gaze, the weight of her question settling heavily between us. "That depends," I said finally. "What do you want to do after it's done?"
Her eyes narrowed, the fire in them flaring. "Maybe I want to watch everything burn," she said, her voice laced with defiance. "Some societies only start thriving after they've been razed to the ground and forced to rebuild. Maybe that's what this one needs."
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "People with that kind of thinking are silly. They just stand at the edge of a slippery slope with a noose wrapped around their necks."
She raised a brow,
"Look I get it. There's a certain allure to starting fresh, to wiping the slate clean. But not every society needs fire to grow. Some manage to endure, to evolve without descending into chaos. Like the Mauryan Empire in ancient India. It thrived not through war but governance, creating laws that balanced power and protected people. Or the Tang Dynasty in China, a golden age of culture and trade that didn't rise from ashes, but through stability and innovation. These weren't societies that burned to build. They just... learned how to hold things together without losing themselves."
She stared at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought she might dismiss it outright, but instead, she tilted her head, considering. "That's a hell of a stretch, comparing those to this," she muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief. "We're not exactly in a golden age here, Kobe. People are hanging by threads, choking on lies."
"Yeah, that depends more so on perspective. And setting fire to the threads isn't going to help them climb out of the pit, either." I fired back. "You think a new society will rise and be all neat and perfect after the old one crumbles? It doesn't. What rises is chaos first—anarchy and suffering. We both haven't lived in an era where order collapses, and we should be happy for that."
She didn't answer right away. Her lips pressed together, and her fingers flexed against the fabric of her jacket. Finally, she sighed, the sound heavy and resigned.
"Maybe I want the chaos," she said, her voice low and almost wistful. "Maybe I want to see it all come crashing down, just to see if we can finally get it right next time. Is that so wrong?"
"Of course dummy." I said shrugging. "Also playing with fire like that is always a gamble, and the house always wins."
The silence between us deepened, the air charged with unspoken thoughts. She didn't look at me, her eyes fixed somewhere distant, lost in a world I couldn't reach.
Then, out of nowhere, she pivoted. "What about the stuff you were saying to Arata, about some big mission for us all with the MLA?" she asked, her tone back to being the regular sharp as if she wasn't just crumbling beside me. "What were you talking about? I haven't heard of anything."
I didn't answer right away. I took a moment to consider how much I could safely say, weighing each word carefully and checking our surroundings, I had a feeling Miku would be trying to keep tabs on me specifically, she has been really suspicious of me from the beginning.
But she wasn't
there.
"I've just been hearing a few whispers. An attack on the heroes is coming. Something big. Only the higher ups in the MLA seem to know the full details—captains and leaders like Arata. Whatever it is, Destro's keeping it close to his chest."
Her eyes narrowed. "And you don't know anything more specific?"
"Not yet," I said, shaking my head. "And before you get any ideas about sneaking around to find out, don't. It'll only make things worse. Just... pay attention, casually. Keep your ears open, but don't make it obvious. The last thing I need is any more heat that I didn't call for."
She scoffed, the sound half amusement, half annoyance. "Casual, huh? I'll keep that in mind."
I gave her a lopsided grin, leaning back slightly. "Good. I knew you were smart enough to handle it."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
We walked in silence for a while after that, the faint sound of our footsteps the only noise cutting through the evening stillness. Finally, she broke it, her voice cutting in. "What about the Himemiya family? Any progress on that?"
"Nope. I haven't even started searching honestly." I admitted gauging her reaction.
She stopped dead in her tracks again, turning to glare at me. "You haven't tried?"
"Not yet," I said, raising my hands defensively. "There's been a lot going on. Too much on my mind."
Her glare didn't soften. That told me she still cared for the general public, even after her little monologue about watching the society burn and turn to chaos. She still cares for the weak that can do nothing for themselves.
"And what's your excuse now? How are you going to start when the rest of us are way ahead of you? You'll just end up doubling on where we have already been."
"Well considering the thoughts you've been having, there's a chance they've slowed you down, so it may not be such a bad idea." She glared at me again, I raised my hand and smiled to tell her it was just a joke.
A piece of white paper formed in my hand. Her expression shifted to confusion as I held it between my fingers, letting my quirk play out. The paper shimmered, folding and twisting in intricate patterns until it shaped itself into a bird. With a flick of my wrist, it sprang to life, fluttering it's wings and taking off into the night sky.
"My quirk," I said simply, watching the paper bird fly off into the darkness. "It's probably the best for scouting amongst us. Makes me doubt Arata's team leading skills since he didn't come to me any sooner but it was for the best. I'm going to have a bunch of these scour the city, starting with the outskirts. If the Himemiya family's being kept in some forest bungalow like that memory that girl showed us, I'll find them."
Nagant blinked, clearly torn between annoyance and a begrudging sort of admiration. "You could've done that when we landed."
"Could've," I admitted with a shrug. "But didn't. And who cares? I'm doing it now."
She let out a sigh, shaking her head. "Unbelievable," she muttered.
"Hey," I said with a smirk, "better late than never, right?"
She didn't bother responding, but I caught the tug of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as we continued walking.
___The air was heavy with the harbor's salty tang and the flair of city life, barely muted by the late hour. As the heroes and their teams began to gather on the rooftop of an old building overlooking the bay of Yokohama.
Sir Nighteye stood at the edge, he was wearing a long coat over his suit, it was whipping in the silent breeze. His sharp gaze spanned the horizon as though he could will the city to reveal its secrets.
Kamui Woods, standing tall and composed, was the first to break the silence. "So, we're clear on the objective? Locate the Himemiya family and extreact them safely. No unnecessary risks."
Ryukyu in her human form, nodded. "If Proxy or anyone he may have persuaded into his forces are anywhere near, we'll need to be prepared for resistance. Nighteye, how solid is your lead?"
Nighteye turned, his glasses glinting under the dim rooftop lights. His expression was sharper than usual, his typical air of cool detachment replaced by something harder, more urgent. "The lead is solid." he said curtly. "A reliable source pinpointed a secluded bungalow on the city outskirts, heavily fitting the description that we were able to get from Lyra Himemiya before we lost her."
Edgeshot, ever composed, folded his arms and regarded Nighteye with his piercing gaze. "You seem tense," he noted. "More than usual. Is there something we're not being told?!
Nighteye's jaw tightened imperceptibly. He had seen the vision earlier—Soryu was here, somewhere in Yokohama. The former Yakuza enforcer was close. The other's wouldn't need to know that though. Not yet.
"The only thing you need to concern yourself with is sticking to the plan," Nighteye said, his tone clipped. "The family is the priority. Everything else is secondary."
Ryukyu frowned slightly but didn't press further.
Nighteye turned to Edgeshot. "I'll need you in a different location," he said abruptly.
Edgeshot raised an eyebrow. "Different location? You're diverting me from the main operation?"
The two of them were away from the rest now. Nighteye couldn't have them hearing why, Nighteye was part of the special team that he had involved himself with back in the commission building, the one tasked with capturing Soryu.
Nighteye knew that the rest of them would want to focus more so on the family, for right reason, but Nighteye thought grimly, there was a chance that they were already a lost cause, already dead. So it was better to pick a win elsewhere, or at least take the chance.
"I have reason to believe that Soryu is in this city."
Edgeshot sighed and tilted his head down, he sounded disappointed, Nighteye carried on anyway.
"I don't intend to waste this opportunity. Edgeshot, you and Centipeder will position yourselves closer to the warehouse district on the west side of the city. It isn't far from the outskirts there where I believe we will find the Himemiya family."
"And what of Soryu?" Edgeshot asked. "If he is here, there is a chance he is here to find that family too, and it is highly likely he is not alone."
"Ryukyu, and Kamui woods and their sidekicks that came today will be the one's focusing on the extraction of the family."
"And what if Proxy himself is here?" Edgeshot asked.
"Proxy is not in Yokohama. I would have known" Nighteye replied flatly.
Edgeshot still wanted greater confirmation.
"You will be the one taking down Soryu because of your speed and efficiency. Your quirk would make it much easier than anyone else here. Centipeder will just be backup."
"And if this goes sideways?" Edgeshot pressed.
Nighteye's gaze hardened, his voice dropping a degree colder. "Then we adapt. That's what we're trained for. But this mission doesn't fail. Not tonight."
There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words settling over the two, until Edgeshot finally relented.
"Fine. Let's hope the chase with Soryu can end today and not be prolonged."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The warehouse district.
That was the direction I had led everyone.
"And you're sure they will be somewhere here?" Miku asked, she still held a certain ire in her tone when she spoke to me.
"Yeah, somewhere around here,"
"And why here and not the cliff area surrounding the place, or even the cave's below?" Nagant asked.
It's not like I knew exactly, the reason why I was so sure we would find the Himemiya family today in this location was a secret that no one but me knows. My second quirk. Not even my family, or the people at the Eden Project know I have it. The former, well I didn't even know I had it until some time during the experiments in the project.
It's a passive ability. Basically just a super strong intuition, more useful than it sounds too.
"A gut feeling."
Miku scoffed and Ren giggled.
I placed my hands on my stomach as I said that.
Arata came from behind and spoke. "Well we better hope we find them here, because this is the last day of searching we have here before we go back. The jet will be hovering above us soon to take us back home, so let's get started."
We split up, Arata placed us in groups of two while he would search on his own.
Nagant and Ren were placed together and moved in the opposite direction, Ren's loud voice was fading ever so slowly. And that only put me with Miku.
She exhaled sharply, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. "Great," she muttered, her tone was
dripping with what I thought was sarcasm. "Let's just get this over with."
I feel I should be saying that, but I digress. Miku's frustration with me had been simmering just under the surface, ever since I had met her, but she didn't look at Nagant in the same way, I wondered why. Maybe she just has a good read on people and know's that I won't be loyal.
The warehouse district stretched out before us like a cold, industrial maze. Rows upon rows of identical gray buildings loomed against the fading light, we decided to wait until it got later in the day to search since there was much less movement.
The air had the scent of oil and stagnant water, and the feint creaks of shifting metal echoed eerily in the quiet. Somewhere in the distance, a ship horn bellowed, low and almost mournful.
I felt comfort in the feeling I received after hearing that sound. It was weird but the feeling just made me feel right.
"Where do we even start?" Miku asked, her voice cutting through the silence.
My gut tightened as I glanced around, scanning the buildings. "This way." I said, gesturing toward one of the larger warehouses near the center of the district.
Miku raised an eyebrow, skeptical but not in the mood to argue. She followed a few steps behind as I led the way. When we reached the building, I stopped.
The padlock on the door hung crooked, it's shackle warped and blackened like it had been melted. Scorch marks traced jagged lines around the frame.
"This one." I said, my voice quieter now.
Miku crossed her arms. "Is this still just your gut feeling?"
"Yep," She rolled her eyes but stepped aside while I could feel her eyes digging into my skull. I opened the door. The metal screeched on it's
hinges, the sound grating against my ears.
The interior was dark, save for the dim, flickering light of a single hanging bulb. As our eyes adjusted, the sight before us came into focus.
Traditional portraits lined the walls, that's what they looked like. Paintings, encased in elegant, dark frames that exuded sophistication. The subjects all had features so similar to the woman back at the base in Deika city.
They were pictures of the Himemiya family.
The mother, with her delicate features and somber expression, sat poised with her hands folded neatly in her lap. The father stood rigidly behind her, his face showed a look that portrayed unease. The son, ten years old Lyra said, he stared out with wide terrified eyes.
"What type of family portrait is this?" Miku voiced out her frustration.
I couldn't help but agree with how odd it all looked. They weren't the only one's too, there were other individuals or families all painted, wonderfully so and highly realistic. All of them looked worried, scared or even angry.
It all looked so weird.
But the meticulous detail of the portraits glow that seemed to seep from the edges of the frames like trapped starlight—the eyes.
It was the eyes. Even before I fully stepped inside, I felt them. Their gazes were clinging to me, moving imperceptibly, tracking every shift, every step.
I just realized it... "These aren't paintings."
An audible gasp escaped Miku as she loudly let out a terrified yelp. I swallowed hard too.
"Daigo Kiyoshi," I said, my voice was distant as everything was fitting together in my mind. "His quirk is really dangerous."
"He already did it to you and Nagant when he sent you to those games, so is this even farfetched?"
I nodded, there were over fifteen pictures here, some with families, some with individuals and even one in the back with what looked like a lineup of school children with their teacher off to the side in what I guessed was picture day.
Before I didn't think all too much on Daigo Kiyoshi other than staying away from him until an opportunity arose to where he could be taken down, or out, quickly and quietly. But peace is not a sound method when going after a growing behemoth.
"We should take all of them back then." Miku said, she lost the suspicious spark in her tone.
"Yeah, but then how do you expect them to be released?" I asked, only Daigo Kiyoshi would know since he is the one who placed them there.
"Well, we are the team searching for the bastard." Was the response I got back.
I reached out to touch one of the pictures, and as my hand touched it, a pulse ran through the frame, like a heartbeat. The eyes moved and the lips twitch. I did not know what to expect as I tried to pick it up—a jolt, a scream, or just any kind of resistance—but the frame lifted easily, it was unnervingly light. The glow intensified and then dimmed, like a sigh of relief.
I handed it to Miku, who took it reluctantly, cradling it as if it might crumble in her hands.
"Right now we just need to—"
A sudden shift in the air cut me off.
It was subtle at first, a faint ripple of movement in the shadows. Then came the sound—a whisper of fabric against metal, too soft to be natural. My body tensed instinctively, my quirk thrumming at the edge of activation.
"Miku," I said softly, not looking away from the darkened corner of the room. "Stay close,"
"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
Before I could answer, something shot out of the shadows—a flicker of motion, impossibly fast. I turned just in time to see Edgeshot materialize from the darkness, his body twisting into a sharp fluid line as he struck.
The first attack missed me by inches, slicing through the air with deadly precision. I stumbled back, clutching the frames to my chest as Miku let out a startled cry. She managed to catch one of the frames before it hit the ground, her hands shaking.
"Kobe!" she hissed, panic evident in her voice.
I didn't have time to reply. From the opposite side of the room, Centipeder emerged, his towering form blocking the only exit. His many limbs moved in a synchronized wave, creating a living barrier between us and freedom.
I wanted to call out on out reunion but Edgeshot's voice cut through before mine. "Put them down. Now!"
Sheet's of paper erupted wrapping tightly around the frames in our possession like a cocoon. The one I was most concerned for of course was the Himemiya family. I stepped closer toward Miku, we edged toward the center of the room.
"Back-to-back," I muttered.
She obeyed without question, her breathing shallow and erratic as she pressed against me.
Edgeshot advanced slowly, his form shifting like liquid steel. "You can't win this one Soryu," I could hear voices outside the building. "Surrender, and no one will be hurt."
My jaw tightened, and my paper rustled in anticipation. "Yeah right."
The tension in the room snapped like a bowstring as Edgeshot lunged again, his form twisting into an impossible blur of sharp lines. He aimed straight for me, his speed so blinding that I barely had time to react.
With a flick of my wrist, sheets of paper shot out from my sleeves, layering in the air between us like a shield. His strike hit the paper wall with a metallic hiss, slicing clean through but slowing just enough for me to leap back.
"Miku, keep moving!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the confined space.
She didn't hesitate. Her stingray-like wings unfurled, catching the air with a sharp, fluid motion. She glided upward, the glow of her electric discharges crackling faintly around her. In her arms, she clutched the portrait of the Himemiya family like a lifeline, her grip unyielding.
Centipeder charged in from the side, his many limbs extending and writhing toward her like a living net. Miku twisted midair, narrowly avoiding the grasping appendages, and fired off a small burst of electricity. The crackling arc struck one of Centipeder's limbs, causing him to recoil momentarily, but it wasn't enough to slow him down for long.
Edgeshot shifted his attention back to me, his body reforming into a sleek, humanoid shape. "You're only making this harder on yourselves," he said, his voice calm but edged with authority.
"So are you," I shot back, launching multiple paper knives in his direction. "We're not hurting anyone, we just admiring the paintings."
He darted between the blades effortlessly, his movements so fluid they seemed to defy logic. I clenched my teeth, willing more paper to form around me. The sheets folded and twisted, taking the shape of long chains that coiled through the air like serpents.
As I manoeuvred the chains toward him, Centipeder closed in again. His limbs lashed out, forcing me to split my focus. I swung one of the paper chains in his direction, wrapping it around two of his appendages and pulling hard. He stumbled slightly, but his sheer size made it impossible to topple him completely.
"And I owe you one bug," I said louder. "You're the one that exposed my identity as Soryu to the media during the Overhaul raid."
It wasn't hard to figure that one out. He was very irritated during our encounters, he probably felt that exposing me in such a way would make it easier to draw me out and reign me in.
Well he failed, he failed big time.
"Kobe!" Miku's voice rang out from above.
I glanced up to see her swooping low, barely dodging a strike from Kamui woods who had entered the fray. His wooden tendrils snaked through the air, aiming to trap her in a cage of twisting branches.
I gritted my teeth and sent a burst of paper upward, intercepting the tendrils before they could reach her. The paper folded into jagged spikes mid-flight, slamming into the wood and forcing Kamui to pull back.
"Thanks!" She called out, her wings fluttering as she adjusted her trajectory.
"No time for gratitude!" I snapped, my attention going back to Edgeshot, who had closed the distance between us.
He struck again, his form morphing into a razor-sharp edge that sliced through my defenses like they were nothing. I barely managed to sidestep, the tip of his attacks grazing my arm. Pain flared, but it wasn't something that I'd dwell on.
"You're good," Edgeshot said, his tone was almost admiring, like being proud of a student of his. "But your tyranny will come to an end."
Before I could respond, another hero entered the room—a man I didn't recognize. He looked to be dressed in a military styled uniform, sleek and black, accented with silver, and he carried a long Obi belt coiled around his waist. With a flick of his wrist, the belt stiffened and extended, transforming into a gleaming blade.
"Stand sharp Haruma," Edgeshot said without looking back.
Haruma nodded, his expression focused. "Understood."
He quickly moved, the obi was moved like a solid and sliced through the air. I ducked under the first strike and countered with a burst of paper shards, but he deflected them easily, his weapon moving like an extension of himself.
"You're not bad," he said, his voice calm and measured.
I shaped paper into a long and massive hammer. I swung it in a wide arc, forcing Haruma to leap back, but his retreat was calculated, leaving me exposed for just a moment.
The moment was all Edgeshot needed. He darted in from the side, his blade-like form aiming for my shoulder. I twisted at the last second, the attack grazing me but missing it's mark.
From above, Miku fired another burst of electricity, aiming to create an opening. The crackling discharge forced Centipeder to halt his advance but Kamui Woods quickly stepped in to fill the gap.
"Miku, we have to go." I shouted, launching a flurry of paper constructs to create a smokescreen.
I had guessed that Arata and the rest were probably outside by now. It has been long enough and there was enough noise being made in this quiet section of the city.
"Miku," I said, I seen her nod in the direction of the door. Good. She gripped the painting tighter.
We surfed through the paper, I could feel every bit of movement within the falling paper edges that I let fall around us. Edgeshot was moving soundlessly with speed and precision that would be hard for most people to follow.
He was a hero in the top ten after all.
Through some of the pieces of paper I created specific movements to slow him down and make bait him into thinking we were there.
We had made it to the door and slipped out of the warehouse. I thought everything would be good, that I would just have to slip past a few more hits and then get out of here.
But as soon as I stared in the eyes of the hero Nighteye, I froze.
It wasn't out of fear, there was nothing about the man that was frightening, nothing about him that screamed power over me. I froze because something in me felt like it froze, and then switched off.
It wasn't subtle. A sudden emptiness, like a muscle I didn't know I'd been flexing so much had gone slack. My instincts—sharpened to a razor edge by experience and something otherworldly—dulled in an instant.
My second quirk, Intuition, had gone silent.
"What the hell?" I whispered, my chest tightened as I began piecing together the reason. When I looked at Nighteye it looked like he had already landed on an answer. I barely even noticed that Ryukyu was beside him shielding him from Ren's punches.
Nighteye, he must have some kind of powerful precognition quirk.
I learned of this before, if two precog quirks come in contact with each other, then the likelihood that both will shut down is 100%. Like the quirk just disappeared.
'Shit, now he knows I have another quirk.' Intuition was just that, a stronger and sharper intuition that was always on, I never would have classified it as a precog, but being able plan and guess things at a much higher level than most would almost work in such a way.
Miku stepped up beside me, her wings twitching nervously. "What's the plan, Kobe?" she whispered.
I didn't answer. My mind was racing, my usual clarity was muddied.
But then, in the corner of my eye, I saw it—One of the paintings we'd carried was glowing softly, the digital surface rippling like water. Before I could say anything, the figure inside began to take shape, it was the mother of the Himemiya family. Her form emerged slowly, hesitantly, as if shaking off an invisible shroud.
My breath caught. "They're turning back."
"What?" Miku followed my gaze, her eyes widening. "Holy, how?"
I looked around and it was clear to me, Intuition or not, I could put together whatever was necessary.
"Once they were taken out of the warehouse they start turning back." So Daigo Kiyoshi must have done something to the building or with how he turned them all together.
There, a solid distraction just showed itself.
I slammed my palms together, summoning paper that was still in the building following Edgeshot and Haruma as they were making their way out of the warehouse. The papers formed into tendrils and wove through the space, seeking out the paintings.
The paintings were like frames coming out of the warehouse on a conveyor belt. Each one started to shimmer as it crossed the threshold, the figures inside slowly regaining their true forms.
It wasn't just individuals but many group portraits had come out to and were slowly crowding the place.
"Where did they all come from?" Ryukyu muttered in a low groan.
Nighteye wouldn't be able to figure out our next moves since he can't use his quirk.
I tapped Miku's shoulder as we were crouched as the crowd around us was growing even more. "Go,"
With a flick, I shaped the remaining paper into a massive, intricate bird. A robin. It's wings unfurled with a deafening snap, and it lowered it's head, inviting us to climb on.
I grabbed the family we had set out to get initially. My paper formed big hands and grabbed them. I slid through the crowd and got on board another bird I conjured and we took flight. Arata, Ren and Nagant were already in the air.
The plane Arata had called in to take us home was already there waiting for us.
Ryukyu roared, her dragon form lunging at us.
This whole mission didn't take much out of me, considering two of the top ten heroes were our opponents.
I raised my hand, a big paper fan formed and once I swung my hand down, the fan flapped and generated enough wind to hold her back until eventually she started falling back. Kamui Woods even tried to reach out for us, I could see his branches below were holding the civilians freed tight.
With that I launched off into the air with the family in "hand", and the back of the jet opened up allowing me to glide into it and see Arata, Ren, Nagant and Miku who had just got in before me.
"We did it." She said as I got on with the family.
"Well done Kobe." Arata congratulated. "You just keep on coming in clutch." He slapped his hand on my shoulder as he welcomed me.
I didn't want to be happy at the praise, there was no way I would become attached to these people. I don't align with their silly mission, I don't care how quirks are used in modern day society.
Minus all that happened within the Eden Project, I've been doing completely fine. Even then, at the Eden Project I got skills that even though they hurt so badly to get, I wouldn't give them up, I got an education better than anyone else in the country too, that includes kids at UA.
That place wasn't a home, I couldn't feel at home with my mother, and this place, Deika city with the Meta Liberation Army, that place is not my home either.
I looked up to Arata and gave him a nod. "Thanks."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The rain came down in heavy sheets, drumming against the makeshift canvas roof of the station tent set up on the outskirts of the warehouse district. The light from the hanging lanterns cast a soft glow, their flickering reflections pooling in the rainwater that had gathered in the muddy puddles.
A low murmur of voices filled the space, punctuated by the occasional hiss of static from the police radios. The tension was thick, as though the storm outside had seeped into the atmosphere within.
Detective Tsuakauchi stood near the entrance, his trench coat soaked at the hem and his hat dripping. His usual calm demeanour was strained, his shoulders hunched under the weight of failure. Nearby, Sir Nighteye adjusted his glasses, the stern lines on his face unreadable as he studied a corkboard cluttered with pinned photographs, maps, and hastily scrawled notes.
Kamui Woods and Edgshot stood to one side, their figures silhouettes against the light, while Ryukyu sat on a folding chair, her dragon-like features subdued in her human form. All eyes turned to Tsukauchi as he cleared his throat.
"We've officially lost them," he began, his voice heavy. "The Himemiya family is gone, and with them, any direct lead we had to Soryu and getting Lyra Himemiya back."
A sound of something cracking came from Kamui Woods."They got here before us and even knew where to find the family."
"Actually, we found out that they had been here for one week already searching the entire city. You guys just arrived too late." Tsukauchi said, he didn't sound as lenient as he usually did.
"And now we're also dealing with the fallout of the people that came from those paintings." Tsukauchi confirmed.
Nighteye interjected. "Forty-six. That's how many individuals were confirmed, an entire classroom of children too. All had contact with Daigo Kiyoshi. Some of them were catatonic, and some were awake but aggressive and delirious. They have most likely been trapped for months."
"Months?" Kamui asked, his voice had raised slightly. "So he can even trap people in paintings, like prisoners, but worse, they couldn't even move."
"Exactly that." Ryukyu replied, his tone clinical. "Lyra worked under proxy for over a month before her capture. If Kiyoshi's quirk are really as intricate as we suspect, some of these people could have been trapped long before that."
Tsukauchi took over the conversation again. "We don't have an identity for all of them yet. Many are unresponsive. The one's that can speak are having trouble remembering,"
The tent fell silent, save for the patter of rain. The weight of another failure hung heavy in the air. Kamui Woods' fists clenched at his sides, the wood of his limbs groaning under the pressure.
"This feels like a losing battle." he muttered. "Every time we think we're making progress on catching Proxy, or even Soryu or any villain nowadays, they slip right through our fingers. We're always a step behind."
Nighteye straightened, adjusting his tie. "Failure is standard," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "It it the nature of our work. But failure is also a lesson. It teaches us to improve. 'A warrior who fears defeat has already lost.'"
There was a growing silence as they looked around while resting and continuously keeping count of the people that were entering and leaving the tent. Ryukyu slowly nodded,
"So what's our next move?" she asked.
Nighteye's gaze drifted back to the corkboard, landing on a photo of Soryu, youthful and dangerous. "We regroup, we analyze and we prepare. Soryu isn't just dangerous because of his quirk. He's dangerous because he has a second quirk." There were gasps in the room. "A rarity but not unheard of. And if my suspicions are correct, it's a quirk similar to mine."
"A precog?" Edgeshot asked.
Nighteye nodded and Edgeshot fired another question to him in quick succession. "And how do you know?"
"Because I still can't see anything," Nighteye replied, in a very unenthusiastic tone. "It's the
Collapsed Rule. When two precogs are in proximity, their quirks interfere with each other, creating a null zone. Neither of us can see anything beyond the present. It's like the future collapse or just doesn't exist."
"Just great." Tsukauchi said, "The kid was dangerous enough already, and if he already had a second quirk like that from young and has been hiding it then there is probably nothing that anyone knows anything about it."
Kamui Woods shook his head, Nighteye looked at Edgeshot to see that he was rigid and made no movement. It only made things harder for them. Harder to capture him. His danger level was already at it's highest in the country, and it's an international level warning now just in case he decides to disappear.
"We'll come back from this." Nighteye said. "Soryu may have the advantage now. But we'll find cracks. Everyone does."
As the heroes exchanged glances, the rain outside hit harder. The search was going to be larger now, they needed plants, they needed to move things forward and set the stage. No more being behind, heroes should have never been the last one's to the scene.
___A computer monitor was the only sound in the room as Daigo Kiyoshi leaned back in his chair. A single, sharp light illuminated his figure, casting elongated shadows across the walls cluttered with schematics, digital blueprints, and towering stacks of documents. His striking angular face betrayed no frustration, only a quiet amusement, as his golden eyes flicked over a map of Yokohama displayed on the central screen.
All his paintings were gone.
Daigo's lips curled into a smile, the kind that concealed more than it revealed. "Heroes," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk, laced with mockery. "They've reclaimed them. Of course, they have. Without Lyra, I suppose I got a little careless." he rested his elbow on the chair's armrest, fingers trailing along his jawline in thought. The smile never faltered, though the glint in his eyes darkened.
Lyra's capture, was a slight inconvenience, but nothing more. She was useful, she had a strong quirk and a decent mind. He knew she wasn't loyal, she was scared and that was easier to deal with. Obedience could always be manufactured.
The Eden Project, he was taught that there, he was taught of obedience and much more. It was a bitter aftertaste that lingered in his mind. Brought together by a group of visionaries, blinded by their idealism. A wayward flock preaching unity and progress. They were dreamers trying to touch the heavens while bound to earth.
"Eden was never going to save the world." Daigo muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "But it did show me it's weakness."
He spun on his chair, his mind was already elsewhere. The key wasn't in individuals. It wasn't in cities or even nations. The key was in omnipresence, in ubiquity.
He turned to the digital wall, gesturing with an elegant flick of his wrist. Screens lit up, displaying networks, grids, and data streams. Lines of code scrolled like rivers of thought, and Daigo's gaze danced across them with near-reverence. His quirk had always been a sharp tool, but his sharpest was his mind.
"The next step of this game should be the world."
Daigo's fingers flew over a sleek keyboard, summoning a three-dimensional model of Japan. The country spun slowly before him, rendered in intricate detail. "Every household owns a television. A smartphone. A computer. Some of these devices already given by my hand, I doubt the heroes have been able to pinpoint where my sources are. I would have known that already."
Daigo knew that many of the commission would have already been figured out, so his hands there are little, but he still has many hands in the Japanese government that will be of use.
"More devices that will connect to me."
He stretched out his hands, as if to grasp the hologram itself. "A replica of Japan, yes. A perfect simulation. every city, every street, every soul will be transferred into my domain without even blinking. They'll live without limits. without death. Rebooted endlessly, free from the tyranny of time and consequences."
Daigo laughed softly, a sound devoid of warmth. "Their lives, their identities, data. And I will be their God."
The excitement coursed through him like a drug, his smile widening as he stepped back from the hologram. His plan was elegant in it's simplicity, yet monumental in scope. To achieve it, he needed more resources, networks, broadcasting stations, and most importantly, power. Power that resided in the hands of a few weak men who still owed him favours.
Daigo moved to a sleek phone on his desk, dialing a number with practiced precision. He placed the receiver to his ear, and when the line clicked, his voice turned from fervent to silky persuasion.
"Minister Hatanaka," he began, his tone honeyed and commanding. "It's been far too long. I trust you've enjoyed the gain you have gotten since my Hosu Games."
A nervous response crackled through the receiver, something about continuous donations and more, but Daigo's expression didn't waiver. He cut him off to speak. "I have a proposition. One that will secure your position in Japan's future."
His words dripped with a calculated charisma each syllable a hook designed to ensnare. "I require access. Full control of the country's broadcasting infrastructure. Think of it as... an upgrade to the system. A modernization effort. You've always been a forward thinker haven't you?"
The minister was hesitating, but Daigo pressed on. "You owe me, Hatanaka. And we both know I always collect."
As the conversation continued, Daigo's mind raced ahead, plotting his next moves with surgical precision. This was merely the first step. Soon, the pieces would fall into place, and his vision would become reality.
He ended the call, setting the receiver down with deliberate care. Turning back to the hologram of Japan, Daigo spread his arms wide, as if embracing the digital projection.
"It begins," he said softly, his eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "The age of immortality."
The room seemed to hum in response, the monitors flickering as if bowing to their creator. Daigo Kiyoshi, the architect of a new reality, stood alone in his domain, the weight of his obsession transforming into the power to reshape the world.
___Anytime I stepped into the room that was given to me in the MLA building I find myself always thinking on the Eden project, the way the furniture was bolted to the floors or the way the bed was mere inches away from the pristine white walls that matched the floors and high ceilings, it all felt too familiar.
They said we could decorate, but, I was already growing too used to the empty design. I did hate the placement of the camera right outside of the rooms entrance though, it constantly reminded me that this space was not truly mine. It was just a place I now work in.
The camera's were something to mention though, none in any private rooms thankfully, but they were all created and designed by Skeptic, a leader in this organization. Not just in the building but all over Deika, he had control over all technology within the city. His cameras were subtle, tucked in corners or embedded in walls, none like the outdated and clunky ones Overhaul had which would blink red to signify when it was in use. The lenses were so small you may mistake it for a nail head. Always watching.
I was somewhat glad with the fact that the Himemiya family had been brought back together. One week ago now, just before the heroes had got to them. It wasn't a flawless execution or anything like that, but it was fine. The media had done their own part, or maybe they hadn't known of our involvement, they had lauded the heroes for recovering countless families. Good on them, erase the failures and control the narrative.
The Himemiya's was the key that Destro needed to turn Lyra, and it had worked. Too well, if I was being honest.
Lyra was... different now. She was so thankful that she didn't even have to wait for Destro to throw an offer or persuasive words at her to join the MLA, she just viewed it as paying him back, paying back the people that saved her family. Her sudden zeal was unsettling, but I understood it. She probably wasn't loyal to Destro, not yet anyway, she was loyal to the debt she feels she owes him.
The MLA had saved her family and given them a home in Deika, and in doing so, they'd chained her to their cause. Gratitude is a powerful tool. Someone in Destro's position of power would know that better than anyone.
Still, it was strange to watch her change so quickly. One moment, she was hesitant, questioning; the next, she was fully onboard, almost singing the praise of the ideology she'd barely understood less than a month ago. It was murky and I didn't trust it, I felt like Kaede, that memory girl, had something to do with it.
I picked out the USB in my pocket. Inside the tiny drive was everything on the Eden Project, things that I'm confident the Hero Commission would burn cities to keep hidden. It was just leverage to me now... okay, maybe a little more than that.
Destro is planning something. I don't need to be a mind reader to see that. The entire city was buzzing, shipments arriving in the dead of night, meetings held in hushed tones, training drills disguised as community gatherings. It was the kind of organized chaos that spoke of preparation, of a storm gathering on the horizon.
The problem was, I didn't have proof. Not yet. And without proof, the commission wouldn't listen to me. They wouldn't even look in my direction unless I dangled something undeniable in front of them.
I mean they probably did have eyes on me, but them getting to me while I'm always surrounded was probably difficult. They were probably eyeing Nagant as well but telling her about my plans would only complicate things. Speaking to her the other day about her feelings toward the commission, she was still highly volatile against them. So that wasn't a good idea.
But how could I get the proof I needed under Skeptic's ever-present surveillance? The cameras were everywhere, I've seen the feedback from their lenses too, they devour everything. Skeptics systems were so advanced it could pick up a scrap of paper from across the room, flagging even the smallest act of subterfuge. Writing notes, dropping hints—that's impossible.
My only option was to do everything slowly and steadily. Work from the bottom.
"Think outside the box," I muttered. "But don't forget who built the box."
Destro's army was massive, and his reach extensive far beyond Deika. But every machine, no matter how well-oiled, had it's cracks. And I was going to find them.
I slid the USB back into my pocket.
I was just going to sick pieces of paper listening devices on everyone I met, people within the building, random civilians too. Although for the one's in the building I had already decided it would be best to stick them on the lower ranking members first since they all know my capabilities they probably had some form of countermeasures against that.
But soon I would have whatever information I needed.
They wouldn't even see me coming.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Weeks turned into months, and Autumn was half way over, not too long until Halloween now. I've been busy. My paper listening devices had found their way into the pockets of countless low-ranking members of the Meta Liberation Army, some even on key figures like Curious. But for all the effort, the results have been maddeningly scarce.
Every time I think I've got something, a lead, a stray whisper, the paper expires, crumbling into nothing before I can confirm. Worse, the people I have been listening to know little and never expended on anything. It's like they're all playing some big game of Chinese whispers, and I'm stuck on the outside trying to piece together rules no one will explain.
Destro himself has been a ghost lately, cooped up in solitude. He's issued orders through intermediaries, but sightings of him have become rare. The missions have been diverse, the first a kidnapping and couple day roughing-up of a major supplier from Chiba trying to smuggle drugs into Deika.
Destro despised that sort of filth in his city, and we left the man beaten and conveniently found by the police. Then came a search-and-rescue operation for and older MLA member abducted by an organized group. They were transporting him by boat, making the mission a logistical nightmare, but we got him back. Reflecting on it, I've noticed how organized crime has resurged despite All Might still being active.
The nations underbelly had only grown since the Hosu Game incident.
I've also gotten some individual assignments, they have been simpler. Spying, data retrieval, tasks tailored to my skills. I didn't mind them, they were straightforward, efficient.Tonight, however, was different. I was part of an escort mission with Nagant and Koku Hanabata, better known as Trumpet.
The event was a formal government gathering. Koku, dressed to impress in a sharp suit, was leveraging his his growing political clout. From what he has said, only few here knew of his ties to the MLA. He'd embedded himself into politics so seamlessly that he was practically untouchable. His ambition? To become the next Minister of justice. From that position, he could influence policies aligning with the MLA's goals.
Nagant and I were here to ensure nothing disrupted his image. Dressed in a tailored black suit with a mask covering the upper half of my face, I blended in well enough. My dreads which had grown some, were tied back, the tips dyed brown, a change I'd grown accustomed to.
Nagant was in a sleek evening gown that belied her lethal precision, stood beside me. The Hero Commission had done an excellent job scrubbing her history, ensuring she was just another face in the crowd tonight.
The venue was a sprawling ballroom, the air thick with wealth and power. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft golden light, reflecting off polished marble floors. Polite conversation filled the space, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Tables were adorned with white linens and elaborate centerpieces, each a testament to opulence.
The attendees were a tapestry of Japan's elite, politicians, bureaucrats, influential business magnates. Their conversations carried an air of guarded ambition, every word measured, every gesture calculated. Among them were representatives from the Ministry of Justice, men and woman whose faces served as a reminder of the Hero Commission's far-reaching influence. Their proximity to power made them formidable.
What struck me though, was the lack of mutant quirk users. Even here, in what was supposed to be one of the worlds more progressive societies, their absence was glaring. It wasn't just oversight, it was exclusion. Mutants rarely ascended to these heights, a silent acknowledgement of the biases that persisted.
As the night wore on, I began to notice something else, a feeling of being watched. It was subtle, just on the edge of my perception, but unmistakeable. my instincts sharpened, and I let my gaze wander, scanning the crowd. Yet, I found nothing. No hostile glares, no furtive movements. Whoever it was, they weren't radiating malice, and so I chose to ignore it. Still, the sensation lingered, like a faint itch I couldn't scratch.
Koku moved through the crowd with ease, his charisma drawing people to him like moths to a flame. He laughed at the right moments, offered the right compliments, and listened with an attentiveness that seemed genuine. People gravitated to him, they had envy and admiration for him.
I looked over to Nagant, she stood silent and vigilant. "Spot anything interesting?" I murmured, keeping my voice low.
Nagant didn't turn her head, but her eyes flicked toward a cluster of officials near the buffet table. "The man in the the gray suit with a red tie. Names Nishikawa. He's been cosying up to the current minister all night. Ambitious. If Koku's going going to face any real competition for the position it'll be him."
"Doesn't look like much," I said, studying the man. He was short and balding, his laugh too loud as he gestured animatedly. "But I've learned to never underestimate the ones who blend in."
"Smart." she finally turned her head slightly, giving me a sidelong glance. "Don't let your guard down, though. There's a room full of people who'd sell their families for an ounce of power."
"Not a lot of mutants here," I said.
Nagant's expression darkened. "They'll take their taxes, their labour, and their loyalty. But respect? That's reserved for the 'acceptable' quirks."
I nodded, letting the bitter tone settle between us.
As the evening dragged on, I felt that same prickle of being watched again.
"Something wrong?" Nagant asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
"Just a feeling." I said, "Probably nothing."
"Trust your instincts," she said, "They've kept you alive this long."
Koku approached us, his face a perfect mask of calm confidence. "Enjoying yourselves?" he asked, his voice smooth.
"Loads," I replied, deadpan.
Nagant's lips twitched. "You're holding court well tonight. They like you."
"They'll like me even more as their boss." Koku said, his eyes glinting. "Stay sharp. The night's just getting started."
He moved off, seamlessly blending back into the crowd. Nagant and I exchanged a look.
"I wonder if he could actually get there."
****As the night began to wind down, the grand hall softened with a hum of farewells and departing chatter. The atmosphere, once lively with conversation and political maneuvering, now carried an air of tiredness mixed with satisfaction. Glasses clinked one final time, final handshakes were exchanged, and the guests slowly trickled toward the exits.
Nagant and I stayed near the fringes of the crowd, our eyes on Koku, who moved through the thinning sea of officials with practised ease. He wore a veneer of charm, his polite smiles and knowing nods making him blend perfectly into our fabric of this society.
As if sensing our watchful gazes, Koku turned his head slightly in our direction. For a fleeting moment, his expression hardened, and then he gave a subtle nod. That was the signal.
Nagant tapped my elbow lightly and whispered, "He's heading to his meeting. Stay sharp."
I gave her a faint smirk. "If anything goes wrong I can always find a workaround."
Her gaze lingered on me, sharp and assessing. "Kobe. Don't be careless."
I rolled my eyes, but before I could offer a retort, she was already walking away, her focus locked on Koku as he disappeared into the corridor leading to a more private section of the venue.
My job wasn't to follow him, though.
Across the hall, my attention was drawn to a figure standing by the exit, engaged in polite conversation with a small group of officials. This was the other candidate that wanted the same position Koku was gunning for—Hideharu Kanzaki.
Kanzaki was the textbook definition of a moral idealist with some dirty baggage in his past, he believed in justice and from what I was able to gather done everything by the book, his dirty baggage was just who he was associated with, like a junkie for a younger brother and a father with some scrubbed case.
He had sharp features, with a clean-shaven face and short black hair streaked with gray. His tailored navy suit was immaculate, but it was his posture and the way he spoke that stood out: calm, confident, and unwavering.
Kanzaki laughed softly at something one of the officials said, his voice warm and inviting. Even from a distance, I could tell he was the type to inspire trust. No wonder Koku would want him removed. A man like that wouldn't just be an obstacle to the MLA's goals—he'd be a thorn in the side of everything they stood for.
As Kanzaki excused himself from the group and began heading toward the exit, I moved to follow, keeping a careful distance. He didn't notice me, too preoccupied with the police farewells he exchanged as he passed through the crowd.
By the time we were outside, the cold night air had settled over the city, and the streets were quiet save for the occasional rumble of a passing car. Kanzaki sat in a black sedan, which was parked smoothly to the curb.
I managed to follow by sticking to the shadows of roofs and alleys. Eventually the car pulled up to an upscale hotel in a quieter district of the city. Kanzaki stepped out, his demeanour still relaxed, and made his way inside.
So far, so good.
I lingered near the entrance, waiting for a group of other guests to walk in before slipping in behind them, blending into the flow of people. Inside, the lobby was sleek and modern, with marble floors and soft lighting. Kanzaki was already at the elevator, speaking briefly with the concierge before disappearing as the doors closed.
Taking a moment to assess, I approached the concierge desk with a casual air. "Excuse me, I'm meeting a friend here—mid thirties, black hair, suit. I think I just missed him?"
The woman behind the desk smiled politely. "Ah yes. Mr Kanzaki just checked in. He's on the twelfth floor."
Perfect.
I nodded my thanks and moved toward the elevators. Once I reached the twelfth floor, I stepped out into a plush, carpeted hallway. It was quiet, with only the faint hum of distant conversations and the occasional sound of a door closing. Kanzaki's room wasn't hard to find.
But as I approached the door, I felt something off. A presence. My instincts flared, and I froze, scanning the hallway. It was then that I saw them.
Two figures stood near the far end of the hall, partially obscured by a corner. Even from the distance, I recognized them immediately.
Gran Torino and Best Jeanist.
Gran Torino looked smaller than I expected in person, he was an old hero, one I didn't think was still active. His stature was unassuming. The old man's reputation preceded him, even if I'd thought he'd retired years ago. Best Jeanist, on the other hand, was as poised and composed as ever, his long denim-themed coat immaculate even in this setting.
My stomach twisted slightly as I realized that Kanzaki had obviously hired them to guard him. He must have anticipated this.
I leaned casually against the wall, pretending to check my phone as I thought through the situation. Why weren't they closer to him earlier? Was this a recent precaution, or had they been shadowing him the entire night? Either way, it didn't matter now since I still haven't been caught.
They were here now, and they'd make my job infinitely more complicated.
I felt a flicker of annoyance rise in my chest. I should've taken him out, before he got into the car that lead him to the hotel. Or even at the event, I could have made it work.
***The air in the hallway was still, but there was tension in the air. Gran Torino and Best Jeanist had left the vicinity of Kanzaki's room only a few minutes ago. I assumed they had stepped out to give him privacy while he showered or perhaps to coordinate something without risking eavesdropping from the candidate himself. It was my window, and I intended to make full use of it.
I took one last glance at the hallway to confirm no one was watching me before focusing on the door. Best Jeanist had threads out, thin, translucent and almost imperceptible. Subtle and meant to pick up on movement and probably sound, so it's probably in the room.
I crouched low, running my fingers along a frame of a door by my side, testing the gaps. With a slow breath, I activated it, feeling my form compress. My body flattened into a weightless sheet, bending and twisting like a slip of parchment as I slid through the bottom corner of the doorframe.
Inside, the room was dark save for the faint glow of the city outside spilling through the curtains. It was sparsely decorated but high-end—polished wooden floors, leather chairs, and an unmade bed that hinted at Kanzaki's hurried arrival.
The faint hiss of the shower drew my attention to the bathroom door, slightly ajar with steam curling into the air. It wasn't the sound of running water that stopped me though, it was the continuous glint of thread. Best Jeanist had rigged the space well. Every line was taut, creating a network of early warnings that would no doubt signal the heroes the moment one was disturbed.
I couldn't help but grin. Only someone like me or Edgeshot would be able to get through them without notice.
Carefully I moved through the threads, my paper-thin body slipping between them like a leaf caught in the wind. The shower's noise masked my movements. The clock was ticking—once Kanzaki was out the heroes would return.
As I approached the bathroom, I heard Kanzaki's voice. At first, I thought he was on a call, but it became clear he was talking to himself.
"...it's my ambition." he muttered, his voice contemplative. "Transparency, fairness... we owe the people that much."
I stopped at the doorway, peeking inside. Through the frosted glass of the shower door, I could make out his silhouette—tall and lean, his movements unhurried. He continued to speak.
"People are falling too deep into the business and politics of things, they'll eventually forget the justice. I will change that."
For a moment, I hesitated.
Killing him here and now, while the water masked the sound and the steam cloaked the scene—it was the perfect opportunity. Yet, as I listened to his words, something twisted in my gut.
'Why am I even listening to Destro's orders so intently?' I asked myself.
It made no sense, I didn't even plan on staying with that freak for long, I wanted out, I had only agreed to stay until I found Daigo Kiyoshi. That rat Destro probably thinks that I'll start "enjoying" life with them.
This guy wasn't didn't have the voice of a power-hungry politician or a corrupt official. This was a man who believed in what he was doing, someone who genuinely wanted to make a positive difference.
I've killed before, but everyone I have killed has been bad. Even people the MLA want me killing. They were all bad people. But there was absolutely nothing I could find about this guy. If I did this then who was I better than? Do I even care for that?
If Destro were to keep getting his way and gained a society where people use their quirks as they please then what? He'll probably want more, and what would that lead to? Another Eden project possibly? Searching for more powerful quirks to "aid" the nation.
Dumb shit like that.
Flattening my body I slipped under the bathroom door. The steam was thicker here, clinging to the air and obscuring the mirrors. I moved silently, positioning myself near the shower.
Kanzaki's voice continued, softer now, almost wistful. "A world where justice isn't just a word. That's what we need. That's what I want to build..."
I give up. The man's sincerity was disarming, and I hated it.
Instead of stabbing through and killing him, I reached up and pulled the shower door open slightly, just enough to see his upper body. Kanzaki turned, startled, but before he could react, I clamped a hand over his mouth, pressing the blade to his ear.
"Quiet," I hissed, my voice low and sharp. "Unless you want the heroes to find your body in pieces."
His eyes widened in shock, but he didn't struggle. The paper knife was enough to keep him compliant.
"Listen carefully," I continued. "People are trying to kill you. I was sent to do it."
Kanzaki's breathing quickened, but he managed to keep silent. After a moment, he whispered against my hand, "I hired heroes..."
"And they're not here, are they?" I shot back, smirking. "I walked right past them. They don't even know I'm in the room. Some protection."
His expression hardened, a mix of fear and determination. "What do you want?"
"First, you are going to help me fake your death," I said, releasing his mouth but keeping the knife close. "I need a scene, something convincing enough to keep my boss off my back."
Kanzaki hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Fine. Do what you need to."
He wasn't as panicked as I'd expected—if anything, he seemed to sharpen, his mind working through the situation. A good sign.
Using the steam and a bit of blood that I slit from his hand, I created a convincing scene of struggle. Kanzaki cooperated without complaint, even suggesting ways to make it look more realistic. By the time I was done, it looked as though he'd been fatally stabbed and left for dead in the shower.
I stepped back, snapping a few pictures with my phone before turning to him. "Here's the deal. You tell the heroes and the cops what I just told you. Then you disappear. Hide until the people who want you dead are dealt with."
Kanzaki frowned. "Who's behind this?"
I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. Let's just say I have a good feeling about you. So I don't plan on killing you."
"Soryu..." He sputtered. "You're Soryu...?"
I sighed, but I nodded and before he could say anything else I slipped out of the bathroom, instead of going out the door like I had entered I jumped out a window and glided away.
I think that was the first time I truly went against an order from the MLA.
I should start finding away to progress further and get out of there now.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In the class 1-A dorms of UA, Izuku Midoriya sat slumped on the big maroon shaded couch with a small weight in his hand that he had been curling. It had stopped in motion as he stared at the TV.
The news anchor had just reported that HIdeharu Kanzaki, a candidate for the head of the ministry of justice had been killed more than a week ago after a meeting with other politicians and board members. Shame was being thrown to the heroes that had been supposed to be guarding him.
Best Jeanist and, "...Gran Torino," he muttered absentmindedly.
"That who you interned under?" He almost jumped and immediately ridiculed himself for it, he had stopped being so jumpy ever since getting out of the hospital, he made an oath to himself that he was done playing around, he didn't want to just catch up to what All Might once was, he wanted to completely surpass it.
But he turned his head, a mix of emotions like anger, envy, cowardice and shock all flooded his mind. How could he not jump, Bakugou just came out of nowhere.
Izuku nodded but refused to speak. Bakugou hadn't acted as he had done in middle school, although verbally he was still rude, but Izuku could take that. But it had been so long since there was any kind of conversation between them. Last time was just felt like a conversation to Izuku that they were never really friends.
"Well, my crappy mentor failed too," Bakugou said out loud.
It was only the two of them in the common area. Izuku was hoping someone would just burst in, but then he started ridiculing himself again for being so cowardly, he shouldn't need anyone to save him.
"Yeah, well, whoever got past a hero in the top ten as well as someone like Gran Torino, must be incredibly skilled." Izuku responded, he spoke in a dim tone, and continued his motion of curling, just with his other hand now.
"That old man's already got a foot in the grave, why's he even still active?" Bakugou snorted out. He clearly didn't know who he was.
"That old man is actually one of All Might's old teachers," Bakugou looked like he froze, Izuku felt something bubble in his chest, seeing his old bully freeze at the mention that the same old man who trained him, trained his favourite hero. "Even though he's old, he's still very capable. All Might recommended me to him."
At that, from Izuku's periphery he could see Bakugou's face seemingly twist, but instead of the typical anger he usually displays, he looked envious, Izuku could spot it, it was a face that he himself wore when they were younger and he would see Bakugou's quirk in action.
The clock in the room was ticking, it was nearly two o'clock, All Might had agreed on more intensive training with him today. Izuku was now capable of controlling 18% of One For All he could push it higher though, to which All Might was both surprised and a little worried about his dedication.
The news station switched topics detailing that there may be a spike in organized crime as many villains captured recently are low tier one's or vigilantes of some kind and that no big names have been seen in public for some time.
Midoriya dug in his bag to pick out a notebook, it looked well-used with some little rips and dampness on the cover which were covered by a big hero card, it was merchandise that was still very popular. His card was one of All Might, he could see Bakugou looking at it from the corner of his eye, Midoriya's card was rare, and what made it even more rare, was the fact that it was signed by the man himself.
"It was a gift for my thirteenth birthday," Izuku said without turning to look at the man sat away from him. "Barely a year after I left you back in Aldera-"
"Where the fuck do you get off?"
Midoriya stopped moving and finally turned to look at Bakugou, he saw rage, it was almost a constant when it came to the explosive boy. But it didn't scare him as it did when they were younger.
"You run off with you tail between your legs, or better yet a quirk hidden so far up your ass..."
Izuku tried ignoring him, but he knew what was coming. He had been on the receiving end for far too long.
"... and now you're back in town acting so high and mighty. Get off your fucking high horse!"
There was silence now. Barring the huffing sounds that came from Bakugou, Midoriya still stumbled internally, he didn't know what he was to say to him. Anything he does say will only make him jump at the chance to strangle him.
But maybe that's fine. He can try, but Midoriya isn't the same as he was back in Aldera. He is strong now, he has power and can fight back, he has a quirk, All Might's quirk.
"Bakugou," he started. "I don't know what your problem with me is. We haven't spoken since we were twelve and I'm completely fine with that." He watched as Bakugou's face changed and showed a slight shock and confusion. "But in the end of the day we're both just here to graduate as heroes. So don't get in my way and I won't in yours."
And just like that he was already up and ready to start marching over and throw his assault.
"I'm sure Aizawa wouldn't like to hear about how you were in middle school. You know, any respectable teacher wouldn't want to know they were teaching someone who so easily threw out the term "Kill yourself" and even more." And now his motion stopped again,
Bakugou wasn't moving but he continued to glare, not as if testing Midoriya, but, his face held so much, disappointment. He wanted something else and he just didn't get it, not here. They were in another moment of silence, and then Bakugou's face hardened again, he opened his mouth but before he could speak the elevator doors chimed and out came Uraraka, Todoroki and Iida.
Uraraka was the first one to notice, Midoriya seen her face change to a more tense expression as she spotted Bakugou.
"Is everything alright Izuku?" she asked with a hardness in her tone as she stepped past Bakugou and intentionally hit into him, causing the boy to stutter in his step while also giving her a sharp glare.
"Yeah, everything's fine. We were just talking." he responded. "I was just about to head out to train with All Might."
It looked like a sudden jolt in expression, his friends knew that he trained with the number one. Bakugou was not his friend.
He seen Bakugou turn on his heal and head up the stairs, ignoring the other two in the room, seemingly shaking in fury with each step.
A sudden cheer seemed to return back into the room as Midoriya let out a quick sigh of relief.
"Well have fun."
________The room was dark, the only light that got through came from the edges of the thick black curtains. As well as the yellow light of my desk lamp.
On the desk in front of me was a little paper man. Folded with precision, he looked almost alive, it had clear slits where it's stomach would be and through the staticky sounds coming from it, it was a listening device. I managed to place one on a leader within the MLA, one that had been making more of an appearance within the base than normal.
His name was Sanctum, one of the supposed oldest members of the MLA.
The first voice I heard didn't come from him though, it was Destro's smooth and calm voice. "Hideharu Kanzaki is no longer a problem. The plan proceeds without further resistance. Sanctum, you've ensured there are no loose ends?"
Why was he asking him? Maybe this old man had backtracked to make sure he had really died before the news even came out. It would make sense, to have someone watch over my back whenever I was given a mission, Nagant probably had someone following her too.
"Of course," came Sanctum's reply. The man sounded rough, worn, and completely devoid of hesitation. "It's clean. No trails that would lead to Koku or Soryu."
Destro hummed in approval. "Good. Kanzaki's fall paves the way for Koku to step into the Ministry unchallenged. The old system is breaking apart piece by piece. Soon it'll collapse under it's own weight, and we'll be there to sweep away the rubble."
Destro's praise of me, indirect as it was, felt like acid eating through my skin. I wonder what he'll think if he see's the guy alive and well.
Sanctum's voice cut through my thoughts. "When do we move?"
"Not yet," Destro replied. "The timing must be perfect. Let the cracks widen. They're still chasing after Proxy as are we. It is better for them to capture him, when the moment comes, we'll strike with precision, not haste. Hero's Eve will provide exactly what we need, as long as Proxy is out of the picture anyway."
Hero's eve? I knew that. Everyone in the country did. I been to one when I was younger, it's one of the most celebrated days of the year, supposed to be a day to champion heroes as well as a prosperous future. A day of hope and unity.
I didn't think Destro would attack something like that, I don't get where he see's the wrong in something like that.
"And the army is ready?" Sanctum asked, his tone was skeptical. "This isn't just the MLA's fight anymore."
"Everyone will be ready," Destro said with conviction. "They have no reason to hold back."
"But what about you sir?" Sanctum asked, "If things go wrong and people see you."
"No need to worry, I won't actually be showing myself. Plus we have help on this." Destro replied.
Sanctum didn't respond but I could tell he was also intrigued on who it was. I could hear what was most likely Destro crack his knuckles and stepping up out of his chair.
"I've recently acquired the support of a figure whose reputation precedes him—a man of legend. All For One."
That name again. It had been some time since I heard it, it hadn't appeared in my mind since a little while after the Hosu Games but I wouldn't forget it. He seemed much too dangerous to just simply forget.
My phone had been out now, recording the entire conversation now.
"Not just him. He is in control of the League, he also has supposedly been rounding up many villains into groups that work with the league, many from the Hosu Games as well as prisons all over the country that still don't have their prisoners."
This didn't just feel like a simple attack or a raid. It was like preparing for a war, one that Destro would benefit from on most if not all fronts. All for One and the League just seem like standard villains that want to topple society for unknown reasons with no great plans afterwards, Destro already planted seeds within politics and government.
So if things were to go the villains way and faith in heroes continue to topple, then of course there will be major calls for change, as well as that, since Destro is not showing himself he can still continue to operate from his standard position and the MLA has a big enough army to fight for him, all with a vast array of different quirks and figures you would not expect.
And even if All for One and the League came out of it arrested or dead, there will still be a shift that Destro can take control of. Thinking of who this All For One is makes me a little disappointed, someone who has supposedly lived for so long cannot see he is clearly being used like an instrument. Or maybe he is just allowing this for a greater goal he has.
"What about the heroes?" Sanctum finally spoke. "Won't they figure it out soon enough? Since the Hosu games end, there was an expected rise in villainy for a week but then it all just disappeared and it's not like they ended up back in prisons. The heroes will be expecting this won't they?"
"Doesn't matter," Destro answered. "The heroes are weak. Their clinging to their image and All Might. Them catching Proxy could help them in morale but when we hit them on Hero's Eve, they'll fall like the brittle structures they have become."
My recording was still ongoing, this was what I needed. I couldn't send anything from this phone under the servers in this city though thanks to Skeptic, so I still needed to find some trustworthy heroes that can get me in contact with the commission.
"And after all that, everyone will be looking for solutions. The people will turn to the Ministry of Justice and the Commission. If things go well that day, then the current head of the Ministry of Justice will also be killed, I haven't figured who to give that job to yet though." Destro mumbled that last part lower. "Eventually it would be liberation sanctum."
The conversation moved on, I stopped recording and saved it on multiple files with duplicates in different files under different names, I didn't think that would help me if Skeptic were really searching but it made me feel more secure.
My fingers flickered against the paper figure, and I allowed myself a small exhale. Then, with a flick of my hand, the figure crumbled into dust. It was done.
We were in the middle of September now, after a long month and a half I had finally gotten something useful. Although I felt a little worried. It all felt like too much at the same time. The villains were too well organized and the heroes were far behind.
Although I always felt like it was supposed to be like that. Heroes always come in to "save the day", implying shit was already hitting the fan and they were just there as clean up. So maybe they were just on the right track, but with the amount of time heroes and villains have been duking it out now, have there even been much progress in lets say, spitting out less villains?
It's not like something that is predestined or written in someone's DNA, but there are factors, one easily being discrimination. Statistics show that mutants face discrimination at almost every level. They are most likely turned away from decent jobs, treated as threats far younger than most, and are even left out of safety zones when major attacks or earthquakes and the like are happening.
Of course as mutants there are still some different social categories. Those with standard and more acceptable mutant quirks like those who look like pups as children, grow up and still have some of that charm that a standard family dog would, which in itself is bad because it's just people infantilizing them or happily satisfying some type of fetish leading to even greater issues.
Hero leader boards and such are about popularity, in some cases more so then actual heroism. There is a reason why a top hero like Gang Orca does so many campaigns along with his hero work and barely manage to scrape top ten in "popularity" compared to Mirko who hardly does a thing but her solo travelling hero work.
Luckily for society, Gang Orca chose heroism. For those that don't, well they all site that it just felt like 'society keeps kicking you down', so what do they do? You break or you find your own way to fight back. Some just become what everyone fears them as anyway because they were never given any alternatives.
And let's not pretend 'heroes' help much with that.
But heroism is still just a business, so for the agents of heroes and designers of the merchandise, they obviously want for them to receive as much recognition as possible for taking down these 'dangerous villains', so it probably just gets to a point where they just don't raise the issue, and the one's at the top are just too dumb or uncaring to make it a point.
I know myself well enough, and even though I can think up all this, I just let it sit there and fester. I too am part of the uncaring crowd.
I'm not a good person, and that's okay. I don't even strive to be one.
So then why? Why am I even still here?
I could probably sneak out of Deika, leave Nagant and continue journeying through Japan. So why am I here? Why did I let Hideharu Kanzaki go? Why did I stay for Eri? Why did I save who I saved in the Hosu Games?
It was hard to come up with an answer.
My body just moved on it's own...? That's bull... that's an answer that just doesn't suit me.
"So was it Eden...?"
For all it was, it was still a place that was raising heroes.
A place that selfishly instilled the thought of acting as a hero, using your power to help people in cruel and selfish ways, as long as the job is done. I hate it.
I hate that place.
All this wandering, it's for a dead place that housed broken dolls that aren't even achieving their function. Who have I met from there? No one.
Is anyone even alive? What would they even be doing? Hero work... I almost laughed.
I felt a metaphorical sickness anytime I said the word hero, if any more of them were like me, they would probably want far away from it... the opposite.....I don't know why, but I feel so weak right now. I'm shaking uncontrollably.
So, the reason I'm still here then... I think, I think that no matter how far I try to stray from this life, one foot will always be over the line helping or destroying in some capacity.
... that's because I'm just another doll it was programmed into.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The streets were bustling with life, but Daigo Kiyoshi only had eyes for the wide screen mounted high on the outside walls of a big shopping center, it is one that is used for promotions. It loomed over the crowd like an unblinking eye, broadcasting a live feed of UA's campus. Pedestrian's walked by, glancing up in curiosity as the image of UA's fortified gates filled the display. The live feed looked oddly still, as though holding it's breath. Daigo smirked, his sharp features lit by the bluish glow of the screen.
The crowd began to grow as more people noticed the peculiar broadcast. A murmur rippled through them, an undercurrent of unease creeping in as they started to pick up on the strangeness of it all.
The camera feed flickered once, twice, and then shifted. The gates disappeared, replaced by views of UA's interior: classrooms, training rooms, and bustling hallways. Students and teachers appeared, caught unawares. Some were mid-conversation; others froze as they noticed the invasion. One by one, the figures on screen reached for their phones, their faces shifting from confusion to outrage as they realized they were live without consent.
The tension in the crowd thickened. Voices rose in alarm and anger. It was the perfect symphony for Daigo, who thrived in chaos. He stepped closer to the edge of the group, his dark coat swaying slightly as he moved. His sharp eyes scanned the faces, settling on a teenage boy lingering near the back, wide-eyed and unsured.
With an unsettling grace, Daigo strolled up to him, his hands casually in his pockets. Leaning down slightly, he whispered with mock camaraderie, "Want to know how to create a suicide bomber?"
The boy's head jerked toward him, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. He stammered, "W-wait..., aren't you... Proxy?"
Daigo's lips twitched into a faint, dismissive smile, ignoring the question entirely. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial murmur, low enough that the surrounding crowd didn't catch the venomous words.
"It's easier than you think," he said, his tone playful yet chilling. "You start finding cracks. People always have them, a weak point, a moment of vulnerability. Take this woman, for instance. A copilot, married with two kids, and a cheating husband. She'd just found out about his infidelity, and the weight of it? Crushed her. She didn't know what to do, so she booked a hotel room instead of going home. Needed to breathe, I suppose."
Daigo's eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as he continued. "That's when I made my move. I had a young man approach her. Not just any young man, a sixteen year old with a beautification quirk. Mature looking, charming, perfect bait. She thought she was escaping her pain, but what she didn't know was that their little rendezvous was recorded. Every desperate, guilt-ridden second."
The boy's breath hitched, but Daigo pressed on, his words tumbling out like poisoned honey.
"When I showed her the footage, her face was... Panic. Horror. Fearful. She realized she'd just slept with the governor's sixteen year old son. That's statutory rape, in case you're wondering. I laid it all out for her, how she'd lose her job, her children, her freedom. She'd be nothing but a headline, another disgrace. She was... pliable after that."
Daigo chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth. "But I didn't stop there. I needed more. First, I had her seduce businessmen, politicians, anyone I pointed her toward. Every encounter recorded, every step deeper into the abyss. Then came the murders. At first, just low-level scum, crooks, thugs. She was shaking when she stabbed the first one. By the third? She didn't even flinch. And oh, how I recorded everything."
The boy's face was pale now, his hands trembling. Daigo leaned in closer, his voice a whisper that cut through the noise of the crowd.
"Do you know what happens when someone has nothing left to lose? When the secrets they've been hiding pile so high they can't see over them anymore? They'll do anything. Anything to make it stop. She started killing without question, no longer mentioning her children, her cheating husband, nothing. She was mine. A puppet on strings she didn't even know were there."
Daigo straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. "And that, kid, is how you create a suicide bomber."
The boy opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was frozen in place, his fear palpable. Daigo's gaze shifted back to the screen. The UA feed was gone, replaced by a close-up of a cockpit. Inside was a pale blonde woman, her face streaked with tears. She gripped the controls with white-knuckled hands, her lips trembling as she mouthed silent words.
The camera feed shifted, revealing the nose of the plane. It was diving. The crowd erupted in panicked cries as they realized the plane's trajectory, straight for UA.
Pandemonium broke out, people shouting and pointing at the screen. The boy turned back to Daigo, but the man was gone. In his place was a cold void, the space he'd occupied now filled only with dread.
The boy's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of the man who'd just vanished. But Daigo was nowhere to be found, leaving behind only the weight of his words and the horrifying reality unfolding on the screen above.
______The morning was calm as All Might strolled through the halls of UA High School. Dressed in his signature yellow suit, even with everything negative going on recently within the nation, he hummed a cheerful tune, the feint echo of his footsteps accompanying the rhythm. The world felt lighter in moments like this, small pockets of peace that let him forget, just for a moment, how fragile everything had become.
He turned the corner, heading toward the staff room, when he noticed Denki Kaminari leaning against the window, staring into the open sky. All Might slowed his pace, the hum in his throat dying away as he approached the student.
"Young Kaminari?" he called out, his voice warm but curious. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?"
Kaminari's gaze didn't waver from the sky. "The teachers are going nuts," he replied, his tone surprisingly subdued. "Apparently, 'someone' hacked into the school's surveillance system. Everyone is being watched. Some people just... left class. They're tired. Annoyed."
All Might's brow furrowed as he stepped closer. "Are you alright?" he asked, placing a reassuring hand on Kaminari's shoulder. "This will all be resolved before the day ends. I promise."
But even as he spoke, an unease settled in his chest. His thoughts drifted to a name he didn't want to think of in the moment. Daigo Kiyoshi: Proxy. It was clear that even Kaminari believed it to be him.
Kaminari finally looked at him, his usual spark of humour absent. "It's not just that," he said. "My quirk... it feels like it's going crazy."
All Might straightened. "Crazy? How so?"
Kaminari gestured toward the sky. "I... I'm really good at sensing big hubs of electricity. It's like a radar in my head. And right now, I can feel something huge coming. Fast."
The unease in All Might's chest turned to alarm. He followed Kaminari's gaze to the sky. For a moment, all he saw was the endless blue. Then, a small dot appeared on the horizon, growing larger with every passing second.
It was a plane.
A massive passenger plane, it's nose aimed directly at UA, descending at terrifying speeds.
All Might's body moved before his mind could process the full scope of the situation. He scooped Kaminari into his arms and dashed through the hallways. His powerful legs propelled him toward the school's underground bunker, a space designed for emergencies like this. As they reached the reinforced doors, he set Kaminari down.
"Stay here," All Might ordered. "Do not move until it's safe."
Kaminari barely had time to nod before All Might vanished, a blur of yellow and determination. He sprinted through the school, his voice booming as he called out orders to staff and students alike.
"Everyone, to the bunker! Move quickly but stay calm!"
He doesn't know why he even said that. He could imagine being in their position, with the number one hero in the nation shouting at everyone in a fearful voice to stay calm, he couldn't even get his act right.
He carried clusters of students and staff in his arms, using his diminished strength as efficiently as he could. Each trip back and forth left him winded, but he refused to stop. Sweat dripped down his face as he pushed his limits, his mind racing with calculations.
'How many can I save?'
He gritted his teeth as he realized the bitter truth: not everyone would make it to the bunker. He had always rejected thoughts like that because he was the one with the power. But now all he could do was hate the fact that he was no longer in his prime, that his body could no longer keep up with his will.
As he set another group down in a relatively safe corridor that would lead to the bunker, he paused, a single tear escaping down his cheek.
"Forgive me," he whispered, a silent prayer to the ones he couldn't save. Then, steeling himself, he raced outside.
The plane loomed larger now, it's massive frame casting a shadow over UA. The engines roared like an approaching storm, the sound rattling his bones. All Might jumped into the air, his body soaring upward as he met the plane head-on. For a brief moment, he hovered there, suspended between earth and sky, as he took in the full scale of the disaster.
It's too big. The thought struck him like a blow.
The impact will destroy the entire school. Not only that, it will kill everyone.
His mind raced, searching for a solution. He cocked his fist back, unleashing a powerful blast of air aimed at the plane's nose. The force slowed it's descent slightly but didn't stop it. The plane shuddered, veering slightly off course but it continued it's deadly plunge.
All Might surged forward, his hands slamming against the plane's metal frame. The heat from the engines burned his palms, but he held firm, pushing back with all his might. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he fought to redirect the massive aircraft. Sweat poured down his face as the strain threatened to overwhelm him.
"Come on... Move!" he roared, his voice mixed with desperation and determination.
The ground beneath him crackled with the air between him and it, the plane barely budged. His heart pounded as he realized he was running out of time. The school was just below, filled with students—his students—who trusted him to protect them. His mind screamed for a solution, a miracle, anything to stop the impending disaster.
Then, without warning, the plane exploded.
The shockwave hit him first, a wall of force that sent him tumbling through the air like a ragdoll. Flames erupted in every direction, a fiery inferno consuming the sky. The deafening roar of the explosion drowned out all sound, leaving only a ringing silence in it's wake. All Might crashed to the ground, his body skidding across the dirt and debris.
Pain shot through him, but it was nothing compared to the anguish clawing at his heart
'Did I... fail?'
His heart sank as he looked towards the school, bracing himself for the worst.
He struggled to his knees, vision blurred by the smoke and tears. His suit was torn, revealing a torn up costume. His body was battered, but none of that mattered. His eyes darted towards the school, bracing himself for the worst. Through the haze, he saw that much of the building still stood—miraculously, the explosion had torn through the air above, scattering debris across the campus but sparing the heart of UA from total destruction.
But the relief was short-lived.
As the smoke began to clear, All Might's breath caught in his throat. The ground around the school was littered with wreckage—twisted metal, shattered glass, and... bodies. Students and teachers alike lay motionless, some buried under rubble, others sprawled across the ground. The air was thick with the smell of blood and burning flesh, a smell that he would remember for the rest of his life, a scent of failure.
His eyes locked onto a familiar figure near the edge of the blast zone. Aizawa, his face pale and bloodied, was crouched over a student—Midoriya. The boy's body was limp, his green hair matted with blood. Aizawa's hands trembled as he pressed them to Midoriya's chest, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but it was clear the damage was too severe.
All Might's heart shattered.
No. Not him... not my boy.
He stumbled forward, his legs unsteady, his mind refusing to process the scene before him. Aizawa looked up as All Might approached, his eyes sharp but shadowed with guilt and exhaustion. "I tried to stop him," Aizawa said, his voice tight and rushed. "He saw you struggling with the plane and ran out to help. I told him it was too dangerous, but he wouldn't listen. He said he couldn't stand by and keep watching you fight alone."
All Might's breath hitched. He dropped to his knees beside Midoriya, his hands hovering over the boys battered form, unsure of where to even begin. It wasn't even long ago when he seen him in a worse state which was after the Hosu Games.
The sight of his successor, broken and bleeding was almost too much to bear. Midoriya's face was pale, his freckles standing out starkly against his ashen skin, but he was alive. Barely.
"He's strong," Aizawa said, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. "He'll pull through. But we need to get him out of here—now."
All Might nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He carefully lifted Midoriya into his arms, cradling him like something fragile, something precious. The boy stirred faintly, a weak groan escaping his lips, and All Might's heart ached with relief and anguish.
Uraraka's sobs cut through the noise, her hands pressed to her mouth as she stared at the destruction. Iida was shouting orders, his voice cracking under the strain, while Todoroki stood frozen, his expression unreadable but his fists clenched so tightly they trembled. The weight of the moment pressed down on all of them, a suffocating reminder of how close they had come to losing completely everything.
All Might's gaze swept over the ruins, his jaw tightening as a storm of emotions raged within him.
'This was done by Daigo Kiyoshi!'
All Might knew that it must have been that man. Main point being the school was going through a cyber attack just minutes before the attack happened, it wasn't long before the media would show up. What was he to do? Give another speech? Attend more social welfare events?
No. He knows what he has to do. He is a hero. The number 1 hero.
'I will catch you PROXY!'
His fists clenched so hard they shook. His eyes blazed with fury and then in a flash of golden light... he was gone.
_____The sky above Japan shimmered with an eerie luminescence, casting unnatural hues of teal and violet across the sprawling landscape. Towering skyscrapers glitched and flickered, their neon lights pulsating as if synchronized to an invisible rhythm. Every screen in the nation, from billboards to handheld devices, displayed the same image: Proxy, standing against a backdrop of code cascading like the rain. His face was calm, but his eyes burned with unrelenting intensity.
"Good evening Japan," his voice reverberated across every corner of the nation, augmented with a digital distortion that made it resonate unnaturally deep in the listener's chest. "Welcome to the final stage, we will now be entering humanity's next stage."
Crowds gathered in public squared, their expressions a mix of horror, confusion and rage. In the streets of Shibuya, people froze mid-commute, staring up at the towering displays. In rural towns, televisions in family homes flickered with his image. Hospitals, airports, schools—all were halted by the same broadcast.
"For years, you've all played your roles in this broken society. Heroes, villains, the downtrodden masses, and the elites who profit off your misery. But now, the game changes. I will do what no one else could: unify this fractured world. Starting with the grounds you all stand on, Japan."
He raised his arms, the image behind him shifting to reveal a pristine mirror of the nation—a surreal Japan with clearer skies, perfect architecture, and streets bustling with avatars of the very people watching.
"I have transported over a million of you already. Every minute, eighty-five thousand more to join this paradise. By the end of 24 hours, every living being within this nation will be digitalized, merged into this flawless world. Here no one will suffer. No one will starve. No one will die... unless I decide otherwise."
Gasps and murmurs erupted across the real Japan. The streets of Tokyo filled with frantic whispers as some looked at their hands, watching faint, glitch-like distortions creep up their skin before vanishing. Other's voiced out that they could see health bars in their right periphery, closed off to others but themselves if they think of it.
Daigo's voice continued, unwavering.
"You're injuries will fade. Your weaknesses will disappear. You will be perfected, your flaws erased. Once the process is complete, my Japan will replace the broken one you've lived in. No heroes. No villains. Just balance. Order. Perfection.... Eden."
In the crowd, a bedraggled man clutched his chest as the gaping wound from a recent car crash began to close. "What is happening?" he muttered, his voice trembling.
The face of a villain that just stepped out of his hideout, his face twisted in confusion as his burns from a recent battle faded, leaving behind smooth skin behind. "Even I don't like this."
The broadcast continued, Daigo's voice taking on a more sinister edge.
"I know many of you must be asking, 'Why?' The answer is simple. Humanity has failed itself. Your so-called heroes perpetuate this cycle of chaos, and your villains only accelerate the descent. But I've transcended that. I am your salvation. I am Proxy. And I am eternal."
In Musutafu, All Might stood frozen in his torn gear, dread and anger etched on his face. An anger he only ever had for one particular villain.
Across the nation, heroes of every caliber—Endeavour, Hawks, Mirko, Gang Orca—all stared at the screens, fists clenched, as the realization hit them: every second mattered now. This was no longer about casual heroism or villainy. This was detrimental to the survival of an entire nation.
Daigo leaned closer to the camera, his smile widening. "Heroes, villains, even civilians—I invite you all to stop me. Unite against Proxy. Let's see if your strength, your cunning, your willpower can overcome perfection."
The screen eventually cut to black, replaced by a timer counting down from 24:00:00. Across the nation, panic erupted. People cried, shouted and scrambled to find some kind of answer. Heroes coordinated over emergency channels, their voices grim. Even villains looked at each other uneasily.
Far away. In the heart of this digital world, Daigo Kiyoshi stood atop the Tokyo tower, arms crossed, watching everything below. He smiled.
The world held it's breath.
"Let the games begin!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The chambers had an uneasy energy. Shadows clung to the cracked walls, flickering erratically with the sputtering light of the few bulbs in the room hanging on the ceiling. There was a scent of damp concrete.
The League of Villains, fractured but not broken, gathered in tense silence. Daiki Tenma leaned against a far wall, the leather jacket creasing slightly. His angular features were set in a frown, and his yellow eyes glinted with a barely restrained frustration.
Nearby Saya Kurotsuki sat cross-legged on a battered crate, her gaze fixed on the ground. Her long, crimson coloured hair framed her face, giving her an air of a detached menace.
"This is bullshit." Daiki snarled, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "I was interested in seeing UA in our attack. Now we're stuck in this freak-show's world."
Twice twitched nervously, muttering to himself in overlapping tones. "Death trap? Funhouse? Death Funhouse!?" Toga giggled softly at his outburst, but even her usual cheer seemed muted. Spinner's clawed fingers tapped against the hilt of his sword, his expression one of simmering anger.
Miyu Ogawa, a recent member, sat atop the hulking figure of a previous member of the eight precepts along with a smaller figure sat on her shoulder. Another recent member who had joined the crew from the last games, Cipher was seated in another corner, his slender fingers steepled as he watched the room with a calculating gaze.
Saya finally tilted her head, her voice soft and lost that same playful and menacing charm that Toga usually had too. "I feel like a pawn again."
"Pawns? Speak for yourself," Daiki shot back, his voice laced with venom. "I'm not playing Proxy's dumb game. I'll kill him before the 24-hours."
"Kill Proxy? Sure, why not? Easy Peasy!" Twice chimed in, his manic grin stretching wide. "Oh wait, except he's a goddamn lunatic with powers that make him think he's a God."
Cipher's calm voice interjected, cutting through the rising tension. "Well obviously, we wouldn't be the only ones. Every hero and any other individual that wants to fight their way out will be gunning for him. But still, we've all underestimated him for far too long."
Shigaraki, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke. His raspy voice carried an unsettling calm as he adjusted the severed hand atop his face. "Enough." The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward their leader. "Proxy... that man before was just a small thorn that I can partially credit for the growth of the league. But his delusions of Godhood are pathetic, and I'm sick of hearing his name."
He stepped forward, his sneakers crunching against the debris on the floor. "We stick to our plan. UA is still our target, and we'll take what we want from them. Proxy's games are an obstacle, nothing more."
Toga tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Then what do we do about him? Just let him keep playing?" Her voice carried a playful lilt, but there was a sharp edge to her words.
Shigaraki's lips curled into a chilling smile beneath the hand. "No. Daiki, Saya, you'll deal with Proxy. I don't care how you do it, but make sure he's out of the picture."
"Yeah get lost!" Twice roared. "Wait, those two alone?" He pointed worryingly.
"I don't want the rest of us distracted," Shigaraki replied, his tone final. "Proxy's games are his playground. If you can't find a way to turn his rules against him, don't come back."
Saya rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and measured. "Understood," she said simply, her cold demeanour unshaken. She glanced at Daiki, who rolled his eyes but pushed off the wall with a resigned shrug.
"Understood boss," Daiki muttered. "But let's hope to having something better to work with when this is over."
As the two turned to leave, Toga's voice rang out. "What about us? What do we do?"
Shigaraki's smile widened, the unsettling glee in his expression sending a chill through the room. "We're still going to go after UA. So... lets take Katsuki Bakugou."
"The loud explosive one..." Toga giggled at that, "This is going to be fun." She let out a louder laugh that sounded wild in the chamber.
_____We were flying hundreds of feet off the ground. My paper constructs beneath us shifted with every gust of wind.
We had all been interrupted by that huge cyber attack that even Skeptic was wary about. We had watched as UA was attacked by a plane that most of us were certain was sent by the culprit that trapped us in here again. Daigo Kiyoshi, Proxy. He really is just an enemy of the entire nation.
I looked over my shoulder, catching the faintest smirk on Nagant's lips as she scanned the horizon. Her rifle out.
"Back in Proxy's domain," she muttered. Her voice was a low drawl that carried easily over the rushing wind. "Feels like a bad rerun, doesn't it?"
I scoffed, forcing my eyes forward. My grip on the paper constructs tightened as I adjusted it's course slightly.
Arata cut in sharply. "Focus. The order is clear. Proxy needs to die. Whatever this is," he gestured to the warped sprawling landscape of the fake world we were in, a twisted version of Tokyo. "it's not going to serve our organization's cause."
I nodded, though the words sat heavy in my chest. The Meta Liberation Army were moving at a quickened pace as they did not expect to be in such a situation. Proxy was a wildfire, threatening to burn down everything in his path. Destro's order's had been direct, eliminate him. Yet, as we soared closer to the city, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were walking into something far bigger than even Destro could predict.
Nagant was perfectly balanced on top of on of the paper birds despite the turbulence. "You think the heroes are already closing in on him?" She asked, her tone was deceptively casual.
"Of course they are," Ren cut in with a louder voice from behind me. "Heroes are always near, and I think Endeavour's base would be closest. And then Hawks and All Might would just get there the quickest." She spat out.
Ren was too hyper, she was strong but she was acting as though she could fight in the same ring as the aforementioned. I have been with this team for some time now, and Ren most definitely is the strongest out of those three, but I could piece her up with very little effort. She does not qualify to compete with anyone in the top ten.
Arata would have a better chance since he is much smarter and knows how to use his quirk really well.
My thought's drifted to Daigo's announcement, his voice was echoing in my mind.
"This world is the new Eden." He said something like that. Eden. The word twisted something in me. It wasn't too far-fetched to believe he may have been like me, a lab rat founded by the Eden Project.
But what did that matter? I didn't feel any sympathy. He could have ended up like this anyway... as an enemy of mine. That just brought me back to previous thoughts I had about people from the Eden project acting out like this.
Would I end up like that?
The thought doesn't scare me. It doesn't rile up anything within me.
It doesn't matter.
If there's any higher rank a villain can go I'd probably end up there.
And my execution would be called.
But I don't care. That's fine....
"Are we there yet???" Ren asked in a childish and jarring tone.
"We'll be there in a minute." I responded.
The city was coming into view. Tokyo but not Tokyo. I could already see colourful suits below us signifying heroes were already gathering in Tokyo en-masse. Ready to carry on their duty and fight to lead everyone back home.
"Get Ready!"
_____The rush of wind roared in Yuki Arakawa's ears as Ryukyu's massive wings beat powerfully, propelling them closer to their destination. The city sprawled beneath them, chaotic and weirdly fractured. There was a lack of people unless they were teleported in mass groups in various corners.
Light's flickered ominously across the skyline, and the unnerving stillness of Tokyo Tower ahead loomed like a sinister monolith. Every second felt like a countdown. It had been an hour since the announcement.
Yuki sat near the base of Ryukyu's neck, her hands gripping a leather strap tightly as she scanned the horizon with sharp, unyielding eyes. Beside her, Nejire Hado hovered slightly above Ryukyu's broad shoulders, her spiralling energy surrounding her, keeping her steady despite the relentless speed. Gang Orca stood behind them, his hulking frame balanced with practiced ease, his commanding presence grounding the urgency of their mission.
The silence between them wasn't just physical; it was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Yuki's mind was a storm of calculations and distant memories. She had been trained to focus, to push everything else aside, but even she couldn't entirely ignore the weight of what they were flying into.
"This is reckless," Yuki finally muttered, her voice cutting through the wind as her dark eyes remained locked on Tokyo Tower. "With the top three heroes in the country most likely heading towards Proxy we should be appeasing the civilians and going after villains that may be taking advantage of this situation."
Nejire glanced at her, her expression unusually serious, the light in her eyes dimmed. "Yeah but, even with as arrogant as Proxy is, I doubt he'll just wait for them in one spot. He'll find ways to slow them down and run the clock or else he would have been caught by now. He probably has many working for him too, people that may get in the way of those heroes."
Getting in the way of All Might didn't seem possible, but underestimating that villain was something even Yuki had done for far too long now, and now look at the situation. It hurts.
Gang Orca's voice boomed, steady and firm, carrying over the rush of air. "It isn't ideal, Genesis. But this man has been left unchecked for far too long, and this may be our only chance to do what has to be done."
Yuki didn't respond immediately, her jaw tightened.
Nejire broke the silence, her voice tinged with a rare edge of frustration. "I hate it too. Leaving people behind to fend for themselves—it's the opposite of what we stand for. But this... it got too big too fast."
Gang Orca nodded his head, his sharp eyes glancing toward Yuki as Ryukyu's wings shifted for a sudden descent. "Yuki," he began, his voice softer now, almost regretful. "We spoke briefly about this before, but I need to make it clear. You've trained for this scenario. Killing as a hero—it's not something we ever want to face, but sometimes..." he hesitated, the words heavy with the burden of his experience. "Sometimes it's the last resort. And I'm sorry that you may have to confront this reality in a place like this."
Yuki's grip on the strap tightened, the leather biting into her gloves. Her face remained stoic, but her voice betrayed a flicker of something deeper—understanding, perhaps, or resignation. "I understand. I've known for a long time that being a hero isn't just saving people. It's making the hard calls. If Proxy doesn't fall here, we're all going to pay for it."
Nejire glanced at her with a sad smile, her energy sparking faintly. "You're strong, Yuki. Stronger than most of us. But it's okay to hate to think of doing this too. I do."
Yuki gave her a small nod, the gesture as close to reassurance as she could muster.
Gang Orca's voice broke through again, resolute. "Remember, this isn't just about following orders. It's about stopping something that could destroy countless lives. We're heroes, even if today feels like we're crossing lines we swore we wouldn't."
Ryukyu let out a low rumble, her voice deep and filled with determination. "We're almost there. Prepare yourselves."
The group braced as the towering structure came into full view, it's peak disappearing into the ominous sky above. Yuki's heart pounded in her chest, but her face betrayed nothing. She wasn't afraid—not of Proxy, not of what they might have to do. She'd made her peace with it long before this moment.
"Right. No hesitation."
Ryukyu dove fast as the wind screamed around them.
_____The blaring sun of the alternate Tokyo rained down heavy, it felt like a blanket. Daiki Tenma moved through the streets with a predator's grace, his leather jacket was off and tied to his waist leaving a tightly fitted short sleeved black T shirt on.
His yellow eyes scanned the shadows. He hated this—the waiting. Proxy's game and delusions felt like a waste of time to him. But if there was one thing Daiki learned from the Eden project, it was how to turn a distraction to an opportunity.
He didn't care for Proxy. Not really. The man was clearly a lunatic with a God complex, and Daiki had no patience for his type. What he wanted was to fight. The thrill of testing his limits, of pushing himself against someone who could match him. Someone who could make him feel alive.
'Strength.'
The word echoed in his mind, a mantra that had driven him for as long as he could remember. It wasn't about being a hero or villain. It wasn't about saving people and doing good or doing bad. It was about being strong. Strong enough to crush anyone who stood in his way. Strong enough to prove himself and always be right.
Daiki remembered his parents, he didn't like that. He thought that after all this time he would have forgotten them by now. But he remembers, he remembers the way his father looked at him with cold and dismissive eyes that always told him,
"You'll never amount to nothing." "I'm smarter than you, and this is all I am, so what can you do?"
He clenched his fists when he thought of the memory. He hated them. Hated how weak his dad was, and how passive and quiet his own mother was. It made him feel like nothing, like he would be nothing.
Life wasn't going so great until he turned nine anyway, that was when he got his quirk. Late incredibly so. The quirk doctor's named it 'Thunder', he was able to absorb and control momentum.
Daiki Tenma wasn't weak. He wouldn't be like his parents.
He didn't know why his father was so bitter with everything. It started when Daiki watched more heroes fight, like All Might, but his favourite was Endevour, he wouldn't admit it back then but he was a fan of many a villain too. Not because of their acts but because of their power.
It was when he was brought to the Eden project he got to know more about villains that the public wouldn't know of, in fact the other subjects of that project weren't even in the know of what he knew.
All For One.
The only reason Daiki joined the league was because of that man.
But even then, he didn't think he would still be thinking of the parent's he had killed so long ago now.
The Eden project was like a new start for him, a new promise. A place where all that mattered was strength. Daiki had thrived there, his quirk making him an unstoppable force, 'the next All Might,' they said.
Since he was more privy to details that others weren't he found out he was number one in some rankings. Saya, a girl with crimson hair that he had fought many times now, was number two. But even though she could be fun to fight with, she could get a little one-dimensional.
It was number three that captured his attention. The boy with pecan skin and light brown eyes.
Daiki couldn't remember his name, but he remembered the face. The short growing dreads, the quiet intensity, the way he moved as quiet as the shadow beneath his feet, always adapting, always improving. He remembered the fights, the way Kobe had pushed him, forced him to dig deeper, to be better, in ways that neither Saya nor his parents ever could.
And he remembered the silence. No anger. No fear. No frustration. Just acceptance. Like losing was just another quiet step forward.
Daiki's lips curled into a smirk. That boy had been different. Special. He knew he had been enjoying it in his own way, even though he never looked like it. And now after all these years, he had caught glimpses of him—Soryu. The name in the news didn't matter.
Daiki stood atop a rood on a skyscraper, his eyes scanning the horizon. The had left the air crisp and dry, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off the glass of the buildings like a thousand tiny stars.
And off in the distance he caught something, not one of the mindless heroes or civilians he had been speeding past.
It was in the sky, something diving downwards, a massive paper bird, it's wings cutting through the air with unnatural precision. Daiki's eyes narrowed, his heart pounding in his chest. There were three figures on the birds back, their silhouettes faint against the city lights. But one of them... one of them stood out.
Daiki's breath hitched. It was him.
The boy from the project. The one who had never stopped challenging him, even in silence. Daiki's hands clenched into fists, his quirk hummed beneath his skin in excitement, ready to be unleashed. He could feel the momentum building, energy coursing through him like a live wire.
"Finally!"
The word echoed in his mind, a single thought that carried the weight of years of waiting, pointless fights, of searching for the right opponent. Proxy didn't matter, nor did the League and Tomura's baseless threats. It was this moment.
"You've been hiding long enough,"
his eyes locked onto the figure off in the distance.
"But I found you. And this time, you won't be holding back or walking away."
He could feel the excitement building, a fire in his chest that threatened to consume him. This was what he lived for. This is what made him feel alive.
"A dance that defies the laws of this false world."
Daiki crouched low like an animal in the jungle eyeing down it's prey before attack. His muscles coiling like springs. The air around him seemed to still, the world holding it's breath as he prepared to move. His quirk activated, he didn't need to touch anything to absorb momentum, he absorbed it from movement. He could feel it all, a symphony of energy waiting to be unleashed.
And then he was gone.
The rooftop shattered beneath him as he launched himself into the air, his speed rivalling that of All Might in his prime. The wind roared in his ears, the city blurring around him as he closed the distance in an instant. His eyes never left the figure on the paper bird. His target.
As he soared through the sky, the name finally popped into his mind. He had finally remembered, just at the right time. And he screamed it out so loud it tore through the buildings surrounding them.
"KOBE!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The wind roared in my ears as the massive bird I'd crafted cut through the sky, it's wings slicing through the air with precision. The city sprawled beneath us, a labyrinth of glass and steel, it's lights flickering like distant stars. My hands gripped the edges of the bird's paper feathers, my mind focused on the task.
But something prickled at the back of my neck, a faint unease that I couldn't shake. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even doubt. It was anticipation... but of what.
And then I heard it.
A voice, raw and guttural, tearing through the night like a thunderclap. It wasn't just loud—it was violent, carrying a weight that made my chest tighten. He screamed my name, akin to an old excited friend.
"KOBE!"
The sound of it sent a jolt through me, like a spark igniting a long-dormant memory. My head snapped toward the source, and there he was... it was number 67. The number one ranked in the Eden project. His hair was the same greenish blonde and he had the same animalistic yellow eyes blazing like the sun, it was Daiki Tenma.
The intensity in his eyes told me one thing. He was hunting me.
The memories came flooding back, unbidden and unwelcome. The Eden Project. The fights. The fights that I had never won. Him always demanding more. Daiki was relentless. An unmovable force that thrived in conflict, on the thrill of the fight. He always looked at me as a challenge, as a vase he wanted to shatter.
And now he was here.
My hands tightened on the paper birds back, my mind racing. I couldn't fight him here, not with my team on board. Not in the air, where his speed and strength would only give him an overwhelming advantage. I needed to drop them. I needed to think.
"Hold on!" I shouted to the others, my voice cutting through the wind. The bird dipped sharply, it's wings folding as we descended toward the rooftops below. The city rushed up to meet us, a blur of lights and shadows. I could feel Daiki closing in, his presence like a storm on the horizon. He was fast—faster than I remembered. The only thing close to that speed which I had fought in recent times was that fake All Might.
The bird touched down on a rooftop, it's paper form dissolving into a flurry of sheets as I stepped off and onto another one and continued on in the air. I knew Daiki would ignore them and follow me.
"Just go!" I shouted to them.
I didn't need them in my way.
But something shifted. A crack of destruction, a sudden shift in the balance of the world around me. A presence, a force, something fast, something deadly.
I barely had time to react before something collided with me.
The impact wasn't just forceful—it was devastating. A shockwave of momentum burst through my body, twisting my insides as I was hurled through the air. The world spun, buildings becoming blurs of steel and glass as I crashed through them, one after the other, each impact jarring, rattling me to my bones.
My mind screamed, trying to process what had just happened. The hit had been clean, precise. No hesitation. This wasn't some amateur trying to prove a point—this was a killer's strike.
I gasped, forcing my body to twist mid-air, pushing off a shattered floor as I attempted to slow myself. My hands grasped onto a broken steel beam, momentum still coursing through me like electricity. My body screamed in protest, but I forced it to obey. I skidded along the debris, my breathing ragged, my vision clearing just in time to see the figure land beside me in an instant.
My chest tightened.
I exhaled slowly, my body adjusting to the pain. No matter how much 'fight for the people' propaganda that the Eden Project tried stuffing down their golden boy, Daiki was built for destruction.
And he looked like he wanted this fight badly.
Daiki landed with a crash, the rooftop cracking beneath his feet. He straightened slowly, his yellow eyes locking onto mine. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt. Just pure, unbridled excitement.
I didn't respond. There was no point in words. Not with him. Daiki wasn't here to talk. He was here to fight.
He moved first, a blur of motion that was too fast to follow His fist came at me with the force of a freight train, the air around it rippling with momentum he had built up. His fist moved in speeds that I could barely follow. My hands moved quickly and instinctively as I created a paper shield and dived out the way as it was of little use as his hand tore right through it with little effort.
Daiki didn't give me a moment to recover. He was on me again, his movements fluid and precise, each strike carrying enough force to level a building. I dodged and weaved on instinct, my body signalling me to move before I could even think. It was like fighting a hurricane—no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't predict where the next blow would come from.
I crafted a paper spear, it's tip sharp and deadly, and I thrust it towards him. He caught it mid-air, his hand closing around the shaft with ease. The momentum I'd built up vanished in an instant, the spear stopping and staying still in air.
'He stopped it's motion.'
I already knew about his quirk. I fought him enough times to know, he's spoke loudly about it back then for everyone to know.
"Do better!"
I backed away and formed multiple paper birds, sending them spiralling toward him in a chaotic flurry. He swatted them aside with ease, his control over momentum rendering them useless. But I wasn't trying to hurt him.
As the birds swarmed around him, I folded a paper sword into existence, it's edge was razor sharp. I lunged forward, aiming for his side. He dodged at the last second, his movements almost too fast to follow. But I wasn't done. I pressed the attack, my sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. He blocked each strike with his arms, the momentum of my blows dissipating as soon as they made contact.
I lunged closing the distance. My fists swung, aiming for his ribs. He twisted at the last second in a blur at the last second, my knuckles grazed his side before he retaliated. A knee to my gut—sharp and precise. Pain lanced through me, but I moved with it, using the force to propel myself back, regaining distance.
Daiki grinned. "Better. But not enough."
He shot forward again, a blur of motion. I ducked, my senses screaming as his arm barely missed my skull. I countered with a sharp kick, aiming for his knee, but he caught it, twisting me mid-air and hurling me back into the remains of a shattered wall.
Dust filled my lungs as I rolled to my feet, my mind working overtime. He was overwhelming. I had to adapt. Find an opening. Use his own speed against him.
Daiki charged again, his fists a flurry of strikes. I dodged, barely, feeling the rush of air as his blows missed me by inches. I struck out where I could—elbows, knees, anything to slow him down. But none of it fazed him. His grin widening with each exchange.
I needed to change the game. Daiki was too fast, too strong, too everything. If I kept playing by his rules, I'd lose. So I stopped trying to match him and started thinking like
me.
My mind raced, calculating, strategizing. Daiki was a force of nature, a hurricane of momentum and raw power. But I wasn't powerless. I can't overpower him, so I'll just outthink him.
I flicked my wrist, and a paper clone of myself materialized in front of me, it's form identical to mine. It charged at Daiki, a decoy meant to buy me time. Daiki didn't hesitate. His fist shot forward, a blur of motion, and the clone disintegrated into a flurry of paper scraps. But by the time he realized it was fake, I was already moving.
I folded myself into a paper glider, the thin sheets of paper forming wings that caught the air as I slipped away silently. Daiki's head snapped toward me, his yellow eyes narrowing. He grinned, that wild, unhinged grin that sent shivers down my spine.
"Running already, Kobe?" he taunted, his voice carrying over the chaos. "I thought you were better than that!"
I didn't respond. Instead, I soared higher, my glider cutting through the air as I positioned myself above him. My hands moved in a blur, folding and shaping paper into small, compact bombs. I rained them down on him, each one exploding with concussive force. The rooftop erupted in a series of blasts, the shockwaves rippling through the air.
Daiki dodged most of them, his movements impossibly fast. But one caught him off guard, the force of the explosion sending him skidding across the rooftop. He laughed, the sound wild and unhinged, as he wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Now we're talking!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos. "This is what I've been waiting for!"
But I wasn't done. I folded the glider into a massive paper hammer, it's head the size of a car. I swung it down with all my might, the force of the blow enough to shatter concrete. Daiki caught it, he absorbed the momentum. For a moment we were locked in a stalemate, the hammer trembling between us.
Then he smirked.
With a roar, he redirected the hammer's momentum, sending it—and me—flying into a nearby building. The impact was brutal, the structure groaning as I crashed through multiple floors. Pain shot through my body, but I forced myself to move, to think. I couldn't afford to stay down. Not with him coming for me.
The fight escalated, the surrounding's within the city bared the brunt of it. Fortunately it wasn't even real.
At one point I created a massive paper dragon, it's wings slicing through the air as it lunged at Daiki. The beast descended on him with it's claws outstretched. Daiki met it head-on, his fists moving faster than I could track. Each blow shattered a part of the dragon, it's fragments scattered like confetti.
But I wasn't done. I used the fragments to create a swarm of paper wasps, each one sharp and deadly. They didn't make a sound but they were able to sting and cut, they just did little to no damage.
Daiki just swatted them away. He laughed as he done so, "Seriously Kobe? Just bugs?"
He didn't let me move on the offensive anymore, I realized that from another powerful blow to the gut that I wasn't able to dodge in time before being sent through another set of buildings. This time as I was landing I spotted some heroes and civilians below me and some in the same building that I had just landed in.
"Hey—"
"Get out of here!" I screamed as I rose, I didn't care if they did or not.
The hero was stomping over to me while civilians ran out the room, he looked like he was angry, he got in a stance as if wanting to fight me... Jeez, sometimes I just forget that I'm Soryu.
Before the prick could do any more, he was splattered into meat paste, and splotches of blood splashed the walls and even parts of my clothing.
Daiki was back, stronger than ever, not holding back any more.
There was a maniacal grin on his face as he slowly turned to look to me.
As he faced me, he dodged a elongated spear aimed at the center of his head. Next he ran straight for me in a crouched position, using the momentum of his dodge.
I jumped and flipped over a fast strike he delivered and struck downwards with a knife of paper.
He wasn't even in that position anymore, as I touched ground I followed my instinct and dropped to the ground placing my hands on the ground and I kicked my legs upwards and spun, catching his chin.
The blow wasn't strong enough, in fact my foot stopped as my shin hit his shirt. It was hard.
It was rock solid, still in place. He stopped motion on his shirt, when he stops an objects momentum the object is indestructible through force. If I hit any harder or wasn't trained any harder, my bone would have shattered easily.
But now I'm vulnerable. In the split second that I am now caught between the floor and him, his momentum is back up and his fist is inches away from my fist.
BANG!
A gun shot came and was less than a second away from penetrating his skull. He, of course, was able to back away before it became a problem for him. The bullet embedded itself into the wall. His yellow eyes turned towards the source of the shot.
"What the—" he muttered lowly with danger in his tone.
I followed his gaze, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Standing on a nearby rooftop was Nagant, her sniper rifle trained on Daiki. Her expression was calm, almost bored, but the sharpness remained in her eyes that told me she meant business.
"So another want's to join—!"
"AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!"
A loud and guttural scream came from the distance, a fair distance from where Daiki and I had just been.
The scream was clearly of pain. And the sound of the voice was... The number 1 hero. All Might.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The air was a sickly colour of of green, swirling with unnatural clouds that seemed to pulse with energy. The ground beneath his feet felt unstable, as though it might collapse at any moment.
All Might clenched his fists, his massive frame trembling with barely contained rage. His iconic smile was long gone now, replaced with fury and pain. His body ached from injuries, he clutched his right side.
The memory of the plane flying down into UA, he couldn't completely protect everyone. He, the number 1 hero. He wasn't able to protect children, it all played in his mind and depending on what was to come next, he doesn't think he will ever wake from such a nightmare.
And Midoriya... young Midoriya. The boy had been caught in the crossfire, trying to protect his classmates. All Might had seen him fall, bloodied and broken, he couldn't even completely make sure he was alright, he was instantly teleported to a world that Proxy had just created.
The thought of his successor, his
son in all but blood, lying there helpless, filled him with a rage he hadn't felt in years.
A voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
"All Might. I was wondering how long it would take you to come charging in like some kind of... what's the word? Oh, right A
hero."
All Might's eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. "You're a coward, Daigo." All Might growled, his voice was low and dangerous. "Hiding in this fake world, manipulating people, hurting children... You're more than simple villainous scum. You're a monster that I will personally put down!"
All Might had only fought to kill once in his life, and even then he wasn't able to fulfill his task. So Proxy... no Daigo Kiyoshi will be his first. Something that he really hoped he would never have to do, but due to the craziness of this reoccurring nightmare it was something he couldn't hold back on anymore.
The laughter that followed was cold and hollow, sending a chill down even All Might's spine. "I never thought I'd hear that from the number 1. But All Might, this isn't all about villain or hero. It's more about who wins. And in my world I intend to be the winner."
The ground beneath All Might's feet suddenly gave way, and he plummeted into a dark abyss. The fall felt endless, the void was swallowing him whole. But All Might wasn't afraid. He twisted his body mid-air, landing in a crouch on a platform that materialized out of nowhere. The platform was small, barely big enough to hold him, and it floated in a void of endless darkness.
Before he could react, a sword slash materialized out of thin air, aimed directly at his chest. All Might barely managed to dodge, the blade grazing his side and drawing blood. He hissed in pain, his hand instinctively going to the wound.
"What's the matter All Might?" Daigo's voice taunted. "Not so invincible now, are you?"
All Might's eyes darted around, searching for the source of the attack. But there was nothing—just the void and the platform. Then, another slash came from behind, and another from above. All Might moved with the speed and precision even greater than a fighter jet, dodging and weaving through the onslaught. But the attacks were relentless, each one appearing out of nowhere, each one aimed to kill.
"You won't win All Might," Daigo sneered. "In my world, I control everything. The rules, the terrain, the very
laws of physics. I will win."
All Might gritted his teeth, his body screaming in protest as he pushed himself to the limit. He couldn't keep this up forever. He was already injured, his stamina draining faster than he'd like to admit. But he couldn't stop. Not now. There was too much at stake.
All Might's eyes caught a flicker of movement in the distance—glowing faintly in the darkness. He doesn't know what it is but he pays close attention as he feels it is off.
And then suddenly. Proxy appears from the glow with a sword pointed right for All Might's heart area, All Might dodged and swiped back but Proxy seemingly was back in his position to sprout out again in the same vain.
All Might was quite an older man and didn't entertain himself with games that often, but he knows enough to see what was happening here.
The sword strikes and Proxy's quick movement's that seemed like teleportation.
It was like he was appearing from a save point, the slashes too. They just came from these unnatural and awry glows that were near him. Since he was in the light before it was a lot harder to see, but in the shade and dark area that Proxy had dragged the fight to it was easier.
'Well if that's it...' All Might thought that all he needed to do was get to them and destroy them before Proxy could attack, he didn't know how well it would work, but he had to try.
With a burst of speed, All Might launched himself toward a save point. But before he could reach it, Proxy erupted in front of him, with his sword midair and thrusting in quick succession toward his head.
All Might had to skid to a stop before spinning out of the way.
"Nice try," Daigo's voice mocked. "But you're not the only one who can think on their head, number 1."
All Might didn't respond. Instead, he focused his energy, his muscles bulging as he prepared to unleash a devastating punch. The air around him crackled with power as he swung his fist, the force of the blow shattering wall in front of him and sending shockwaves through the area.
But with that... there was a series of explosions. All Might leapt into the air. As he landed, a barrage of kunai came at him from all directions. He dodged and weaved, his body moving on instinct as he tried to close the distance between himself and Proxy.
But every time All Might got close, the villain would teleport away to a new location, leaving behind an attack or some kind of trap.
He was able to leave attacks in these save points which made everything regarding him even more difficult.
His arm was cocked back and he threw it to the ground shaking the earth beneath them and uprooting roots and nearby buildings. He then blitzed across the field using the uprooted debris as footholds as he jumped from each of them.
Proxy was midair but he would be touching the ground again within moments so he had to reach him before he could set a trap again.
All Might's fists were clenched, he was ready to deal what he thought may be the last blow, strong enough to snap the mans neck and if aimed lower would crush his rubs and pierce his heart.
He loathed doing this and being so calculated in plain murder. It was sickening, it split him apart endlessly.
But then it happened...
Proxy appeared in front of him, his hand glowing with energy. Before All Might could react, the villain slammed his palm into All Might's chest, unleashing a devastating blast that sent the hero flying.
The pain was unlike anything All Might had ever felt. It was as though his very soul was being torn apart. He crashed into the ground, his body skidding across the ground before coming to a stop at the edge of a pit.
All Might couldn't believe it, he couldn't even understand what had just happened and for where the strength had come from.
"It was another save point..."
His brain stuttered, he wondered if he spoke out loud. His mind was hazy. He feels so much weaker than he should be.
"I was able to catch a few of your attacks as well as some of mine in a save point and I thought that I could add them all into one powerful attacks. And it actually worked. Who would have thought?"
Proxy let out a simple laugh as his hand glowed again, he flicked it around and a long and shiny silver sword appeared.
He aimed it toward All Might.
There was little he could do, even with his senses coming back, he just felt a hit that was basically from himself square in his chest. He raised his leg, ready to slam it down with intensity, but he couldn't, the next thing he felt was cold metal digging into the right side of his chest.
The edges weren't as smooth as he thought, it was like a razor edged blade and Proxy... Daigo just get digging it in slowly while twisting it in circular motion.
Daigo stood over him, his expression unreadable, his eyes were cold and held a detached malice. He twisted the blade slowly, the motion deliberate and calculated, as though he were carving into stone rather than flesh. All Might's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he fought to suppress a scream. But the pain was overwhelming, a white-hot agony consumed every thought, every sensation.
It felt like he was being put under surgery, wide awake and fully conscious, forced to endure every cut, every twist, every excruciating second. All Might's vision blurred again, tears of pain and frustration welling in his eyes. His body trembled, his muscles straining against the unbearable torment. He could feel the blade grinding against bone, the sensation sending shockwaves of pain through his entire body.
Daigo leaned in closer, his voice a low, mocking whisper. "This is what it feels like to lose, All Might. You couldn't stop my Hosu Game, you never were able to find Lyra again, you barely even stopped that plane. And now here you are, at my behest. Every step of the way, I was able to beat the number 1. The epitome of heroes."
Daigo looked him squarely in the face and there was a big wide grin on his face. "What even is the point of heroes when their big representative is so pathetic, powerless?"
All Might's hand shot up, grasping Daigo's wrist with what little strength he had left. His grip was weak, his fingers trembling, but the defiance in his eyes was unyielding. "I'm not... not... done," he growled, his voice strained but resolute.
Daigo smirked, his free hand reaching up to grip All Might's wrist. With a sharp twist, he forced All Might's hand away, the sound of bones cracking echoing through the air. All Might's arm fell limp at his side, his body convulsing as another wave of pain washed over him.
The blade twisted again, deeper this time, and All Might couldn't hold back the scream that tore from his throat. It was a raw, primal sound, filled with pain, anger and defiance. The ground beneath him shook, the air around him crackling with energy surged uncontrollably. But it wasn't enough. The pain was too much, the damage too severe.
Daigo leaned back, pulling his blade free with a sickening squelch. All Might's body jerked, a fresh wave of agony coursing through him as the jagged edges tore through his flesh once more. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the ground a dark, ominous red. His breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, each exhale a shuddering gasp.
Daigo stood over him, the blade dripping with blood, his expression one of cold satisfaction. "You're finished, All Might. The Symbol of Peace... reduced to this."
All Might's vision darkened, the edges closing in as unconsciousness threatened to take him in.
***Endeavour soared through the sickly green sky, his flames trailing behind him like a comet. His mind was a storm of rage and frustration, his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached. The memory of the plane he watched on the tv screen diving down to topple UA high.
The school he had went to, the one where he had graduated from to become the hero he is now, the school his son is attending.He'd been flying toward the school, his thoughts consumed by Shoto—his son, his legacy, his failure. He'd been close enough to reaching them, and then... nothing. The world shifted, and he'd found himself here, in this hellish imitation of reality.
"Damn it all." Endeavour muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl. His flames flared brighter, the heat intensifying as his anger boiled over. He didn't have time for this. He didn't have time for games. His family was out there, members of his agency, and he was trapped in this... mockery of a world.
His thoughts were cut short by a sound—a raw and guttural scream that echoed across the desolate landscape. It was a sound of pain, of defiance and of desperation. Endeavour froze mid-air, his flames flickering as he turned his head toward the source. He knew that voice. He'd know it anywhere.
"All Might," he muttered, his voice tingled with disbelief. The Symbol of Peace, screaming like that? It was unthinkable. And yet, there was no mistaking it. All Might was here, and he was in trouble.
Endeavour's mind raced, his thoughts sharp and calculating. If All Might was struggling, then the enemy—this Proxy—was far more dangerous than he'd anticipated. He couldn't afford to waste time. Every second counted.
Endeavour's flames roared to life, the heat around him intensifying as he prepared to move. He didn't have the luxury of hesitation. He needed to reach All Might, and he needed to do it fast.
He'd done the math in his head, calculating the distance, the time, the energy required. It was risky—pushing his quirk to it's limits always was—but he didn't have a choice. All Might didn't have time for him to play it safe.
Endeavour's body tensed, his muscles coiling like springs as he prepared to launch himself forward. His flames condensed around him, forming a blazing aura that crackled with raw power. He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the horizon.
"Lets go!" he growled.
With a deafening roar, Endeavour shot forward, his flames propelling him through the air at unimaginable speed. The world around him blurred, the ground below becoming a smear of colours and shapes. The air itself seemed to scream in protest as he tore through it, the heat of his flames leaving a trail of scorched earth in his wake.
The number 2 hero's eye's locked onto the scene below as he approached. All Might was on the ground, bloodied and broken, while Daigo stood over him, a blade dripping with crimson. The sight sent a surge of fury through Endeavour, his flames flaring brighter as he descended.
Daigo looked up just as Endeavour reached him, his eyes widening in surprise. But it was too late. Endeavour's hand shot out, flames erupting from his palm as he aimed a devastating blast at the villain. Daigo barely managed to dodge, the flames grazing his side as he teleported away, leaving behind a feint shimmer in the air.
Endeavour didn't waste time chasing him. Instead, he dropped to the ground beside All Might, his flames dissipating as he knelt beside the number 1. The position he had been fighting to reach for so long. His eyes scanned All Might's body, taking in the extent of the damage. It was bad—worse than he'd expected. The wound in All Might's chest was deep, the blood pooling beneath him staining the ground a dark, ominous red.
"All Might," Endeavour said, his voice sharp and commanding. "Stay with me. Talk to me. What happened?"
All Might's eyes fluttered open, his breathing ragged and laboured. He managed a weak smile, though it was strained with pain. "Endeavour... you're late."
Endeavour's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. "Shut up and listen. I'm going to cauterize your wounds. It's going to hurt like hell, so grit your teeth."
All Might chuckled weakly, though it quickly turned into a cough, blood spilling from his lips. "Do... what you have to..."
Endeavour nodded, his expression grim. He placed his hand over All Might's chest, his flames flickering to life as he prepared to seal the wound. The heat was intense, the air around them shimmering as Endeavour focused his quirk with surgical precision.
"This is going to hurt," Endeavour warned, his voice low and steady. "But it's the only way to stop the bleeding."
All Might's jaw clenched, his body tensing as Endeavour's flames seared the wound shut. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and All Might's scream echoed across the battlefield, raw and primal. But Endeavour didn't stop. He couldn't. Not until the wound was sealed.
When it was done, Endeavour leaned back, his flames dissipating as he assessed his work. The wound was closed, the bleeding stopped, but All Might wasn't completely okay. His breathing was shallow, his body trembling with pain and exhaustion.
"You won't die here today All Might." Endeavour said, his voice was firm.
All Might managed a weak nod, his eyes closing as he fought to stay conscious. Endeavour stood, his flames roaring to life once more as he turned his gaze toward the horizon. Daigo was still there, and Endeavour wasn't going to allow him to leave.
"All Might!" Endeavour said loudly, "You lay here, but not for long. I will go after Proxy, but I expect you to be up and ready to bring him down also. This may be the only time that the two of us will fight together, so do not miss out on it."
Endeavour turned his back to him, not looking for a response, his flames burst to life and he shot into the sky, ready to unleash hell on the man who started all of this.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Endeavour's flames roared around him, blazing with determination. The ground beneath felt unstable and shaky, as though it may collapse with a strong step. But Endeavour didn't care. His focus was razor-sharp, and his eyes locked on to Proxy.
Proxy stood with his blade in hand, the weapon dripping with blood. His eyes gleamed with a cold malice, the same he held when looking at All Might. His expression was one of detachment. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Endeavour," Proxy said, his voice calm and mocking. "I was wondering when another hero would show up. All Might looked like he needed a babysitter."
Endeavour's jaw tightened, he was wishing he had found a way to have tracked this mad man down much sooner, before it even became the situation that it is now.
Proxy chuckled, "Oh Endeavour. Always so serious. Let's see if you can back up that big ego that seem's to come with the number 2 position."
Endeavour shot forward. With a roar, he launched himself forward, his flames propelling him at blinding speeds. His fist, wreathed in fire, shot toward Proxy's face with the force of a freight train. But the villain was ready. In the blink of an eye, Daigo vanished in a shimmer of light, reappearing behind Endeavour with his blade already swinging.
Endeavour twisted mid-air, his flames flaring to life as he deflected the blade with a burst of heat. The clash sent shockwaves throughout the air, the ground cracking beneath them. Endeavour didn't let up. He pressed the attack, his flames surging as he unleashed a barrage of fireballs, each one aimed with deadly precision.
Proxy dodged and weaved, his movements unnaturally fast. He blinked from one place to another, 'save point', he heard him explaining to All Might, he left traps in the form of slashing attacks that were invisible save for the feint sheen of silver that glowed briefly.
He couldn't afford to hold back, not against someone like Proxy.
The fight was a blur of fire and steel, each clash more brutal than the last. Endeavour's flames scorched the ground, turning it into a battlefield that would eventually look like an inferno. The two combatants moved with inhuman speed, their attacks creating shockwaves that shattered the surrounding terrain.
Endeavour's flames roared as he unleashed a massive firestorm, the heat so intense it melted the ground beneath them. Proxy zapped out of harms way, reappearing above Endeavour with his blade poised to strike. Endeavour barely managed to dodge, the blade grazed his shoulder and drew blood. He retaliated with a fiery uppercut, the blow connected and the force of it sent Proxy flying.
Of course he wasn't done though. He landed on his feet, his blade glowing with energy, he plans on using the same attack he used on All Might.
A culmination of strong attacks absorbed by him and then unleashed.
A massive sword slash tore through the ground and travelled towards Endeavour. The hero crossed his arms, his flames forming a shield that was supposed to absorb some of the impact. The force of the blast sent him skidding backward, his boots digging into the ground.
Endeavour's body ached, his stamina draining with each passing second. But he couldn't stop. Not now. He charged forward, his flames condensing into a spear of pure fire. He thrust it toward Proxy, the heat so intense it warped the air around them.
Proxy teleported again, reappearing behind Endeavour with his blade aimed at the hero's back. Endeavour spun around, his flames erupting in a fiery explosion that forced Proxy to slide back and retreat. But the villain was relentless. He teleported again and again, each attack more precise, more deadly.
Endeavour's flames flickered, his body pushed to it's limits. He could feel the burns on his skin, the cuts and bruises that littered his body. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. Not while Proxy was still standing.
Proxy appeared in front of Endeavour, his blade thrust forward, glowing, and aimed at the hero's heart. Endeavour tried to dodge, but his body was too slow, too exhausted. The blade pierced his side, the pain searing through him like a white-hot flame.
Endeavour gasped, his flames flickering as he struggled to stay upright. Proxy leaned closer, his voice a cold whisper. "You're finished Endeavour. Just like All Might."
But before Proxy could deliver the final blow, a massive fist slammed into his chest, sending him flying across the battlefield. The force of the impact shattered the ground, sending debris flying in all directions.
Endeavour looked up, his vision blurred with pain. Standing over him, was All Might, his body battered and bloodied, but his eyes burning with defiance. His fist was still clenched, smoke rose from what he believed to be the impact.
"You're not... finishing this... alone," All Might said, his voice strained but resolute.
Proxy skidded to a stop, his body crashing through buildings as he was sent flying into the main section of the city. The impact created a massive crater, dust and debris filling the air.
Endeavour brought his flames flickering to life once more. "Took you long enough."
All Might extended a hand, helping Endeavour to his feet. The two heroes stood side by side, their eyes locked on the distant crater where Proxy had landed.
"Let's end this here and now. Plus Ultra!" All Might's voice was filled with a vengeance.
Endeavour nodded and his flames roared to life. "Here and Now!"
***The air in the makeshift safe zone was thick with fear, there was an unnatural glow to it as well which they all thought was an effect of the fact they were in a fake version of the outside world. The once bustling campus of UA High now felt like a ghost town, the destruction followed them into this fake world.
Uraraka Ochaco sat on a cracked bench, her hands clasped tightly together as she tried to steady her breathing. Her chest felt heavy, her mind racing with thoughts of chaos that had unfolded just hours prior.
Beside her, Ashido Mina and Iida Tenya were deep in conversation, their voices low but urgent, their usual energy subdued by the gravity of the situation.
"Did you see the plane?" Ashido asked, her usual bubbly tone replaced by a somber seriousness. Her pink hair, usually so vibrant, seemed dull under the unnatural light of the game world. "It just... came out of nowhere. I've never seen anything like it."
Iida adjusted his glasses, his expression grim. His usual composed demeanour was frayed at the edges, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "It was a calculated attack," he said, his tone was laced with anger. "The fact that someone could be so evil to plane an attack like that on us, it's terrifying. It's an attack on everything we are training for... on everything we stand for."
Uraraka nodded silently, her mind racing. The memory of the plane diving toward UA played on repeat in her head, the screams of her classmates echoing in her ears. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Some of out friends... they got hurt," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I saw Izuku...he got hit bad..."
She trailed off, unable to continue with that line of thought. The image of Midoriya, bloodied and broken, flashed in her mind. He'd been so close to the impact zone, shielding other's with his body while also trying to make it to his idol. Everything, this whole situation just made her chest tighten and leave a lump forming in her throat.
Ashido reached over, placing a reassuring hand on Uraraka's shoulder. "Hey, don't think like that," she said, her voice softer now. "Midoriya's tough. He's not going down that easily. None of us are."
Iida nodded in agreement, though his usual confident demeanour was tinged with worry. "We need to stay focused," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Right now, our priority is getting to the safe zone and regrouping. Once we're there, we can figure out our next move."
Uraraka took a deep breath, forcing herself to nod. "You're right," she said. "We can't afford to panic. Not now."
The three of them stood and began making there way toward the marked safe zone, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence of the game world. The streets were deserted, the buildings around them crumbling to debris from the plane crash, it was a big plane that extended far outside UA's bounds due to All Might's intervention, although that may not have been a good thing.
As they walked Uraraka's mind wandered. She thought about Midoriya—Champion—and how he always seemed to find a way to push through no matter what. He'd been her friend, her inspiration, and now... now she didn't even know if he was alive. The thought made her chest tighten, but she pushed it aside. She couldn't afford to fall apart.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden buzz from her phone. She pulled it out, her eyes widening as she read the emergency message that had just been sent to the UA group chat that was made as soon as this incident happened, to help people regroup and find safe places.
Emergency Alert: The League of Villains has breached the UA safe zone. All students and non hero staff that have not yet arrived are advised to find alternative hiding locations. DO NOT RETURN TO THE UA SAFE ZONE. Targets for the League of Villains attack have been identified as hopeful kidnap victims: Bakugou Katsuki and Tokoyami Fumikage. Proceed with extreme caution!
Attached to the message were two pictures: One of Bakugou and the other of Tokoyami.
Uraraka's stomach churned as she stared at Bakugou's picture. She'd never liked him—not after finding out how he'd treated Midoriya when they were younger. The memory of being trapped in the last game from Proxy where she ran into some dummy that told her of his circumstances back then, she tracked him down again to make him tell her how bad it was since Midoriya feigned ignorance whenever she brought it up.
She didn't want to hurt him by bringing it up, but she just couldn't understand why someone like Midoriya would be a victim to bullying since he was such a nice person.
When she found out, she knew she was invading his privacy, but it made her blood boil. And then she started paying more attention to Midoriya... she seen what looked like fading burn marks that he would explain away as damage from his quirk when he awakened it.
That may have been true, but you couldn't hide a burn mark, especially with someone like Todoroki even acknowledging it as such.
She noticed how judgemental—not in a bad way—his mother was the first time she met her and some of his other friends, as though she were watching to make sure her boy hadn't ran into any more people that intended harm to him.
She noticed how he would flinch at certain points of his body, or if he were touched from behind with a tap on his shoulder.
The bullying he endured must have been great. And it made her wonder why his main bully even attempted to try and play hero. He just didn't seem suited for it.
The message never said that the villains were looking to kill him, so honestly she was almost tempted to completely follow through with the direct order, Bakugou Katsuki was not a good person in her eyes.
Even now, nearly an entire school year in, he is rude and looks at everyone as lesser than him, even those that call themselves his friends. It made her sick. If the villains had him, maybe he would show his true colours and join them, maybe he would never come back, maybe he would die....
She couldn't believe it. Her, Uraraka Ochaco was thinking such thoughts.
"They're after Blasty!" She heard Ashido squeal from her left, right, one of Bakugou's 'friends'.
Uraraka was stuck in her own mind again, she had already thought back on what she was thinking of previously as something wrong, horrific even, she knows that it is something Midoriya may even despise her for.
It's not something Midoriya would think, even to someone he hates... is supposed to hate anyway.
Midoriya wouldn't have wasted any time. He would already be on the move if he had seen that alert and was up and ready.
"Let's go!" she said.
Iida grabbed her shoulder as she started to move forward.
"Go where exactly?"
"You know exactly where Iida." Ashido said sternly. "We're getting Blasty and Tokoyami."
"No we are not!" Iida said loudly and with authority booming in his voice. He aimed to shut this down immediately so he cut in the conversation before a refute came. "I almost done it too, with Stain."
The two of them stopped and their eyes widened in shock.
"When I heard he attacked my brother, I was filled with rage and vengeance, I ignored my friends and the heroes. I went after him on my own and nearly died. And do you know who it was that saved me?"
They both shook their heads, ideas floated around but they couldn't give him an answer.
"It was Midoriya. He saved me, and I am eternally thankful for that moment. I placed him in unknown danger that could have easily killed him too yet he forgave me and showed me that I can still journey toward heroism. And that is by following the law of the land to the T." He glanced at Ashido and then to Uraraka. "I don't want the two of you to follow the same mistakes that I made."
There was a silence that ate away at the previously growing tension rising in them that rid any of their fear.
Uraraka raised her head and stared straight in Iida's cold eyes.
"Iida." he raised his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Izuku gave his life to save you. And I'm sure he would again, just as he would for Tokoyami and someone like Bakugou," that last part came out with venom. "I understand that you don't want us falling into a bad path like you did but we won't. We plan on going back and helping however we can, with the crash that happened there are already great number of people down, so I'm sure our help will at least be appreciated, and maybe we'll run into the other two before they get taken and lead them to safety while we let the heroes fight off the villains."
Iida had his head down, she could see his teeth clench, she could see the subtle shake he was giving, fumes raising from his exhaust. She seen Ashido tense in her peripheral.
Iida wanted so badly to say no, but there was also a part in him that was consuming him to try and follow along. To go back and see if his friends are safe, to fight off villains attacking innocents if need be, to be a hero like he had set out to.
Eventually, the shaking stopped, and he let out a deep breath and slowly raised his head.
"Alright." Ashido almost jumped but held herself still. "But we won't just jump in all willy nilly. We are going in with a plan, a plan for retrieval and nothing more. Leave the fighting to the heroes understand?"
Both of them nodded their heads.
"Good. Now let's go, We'll plan on our way there!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Bakugou Katsuki moved through the halls like a storm, his footsteps sharp and deliberate, each one echoing against the cracked walls. His hands were clenched into fists, small explosions crackling in his palms, the sound sharp and sporadic, like the ticking of a bomb counting down to detonation.
His teeth were gritted so hard his jaw ached, his crimson eyes burning with a fury that had been simmering since the moment the plane crashed into the school.
The memory of it played in his mind like a broken record, each detail etched into his brain with painful clarity. The sound of the plane's engines roaring overhead, All Might speeding through the halls grabbing as many as he could and leaving them at the entrance of the underground bunker, the crescendo that drowned out everything else.
The screams of his classmates as they realized what was happening, their voices rising in a chorus of panic and fear. The deafening crash as the plane tore through the building, the shockwave sending debris flying in all directions, the world collapsing around him in a blur of smoke and chaos.
And then... Deku, reckless, dumb, nerdy, stupid, Deku. Throwing himself into the chaos like the self-sacrificing idiot he was. Bakugou had barely caught a glance of what had happened to him but he did see the blood. He seen him lying in a heap of his own blood, still alive he was sure...
He was angry.
Hot, searing anger was bubbling up inside him. He hated this. He hated all of it. The sickly green sky that loomed overhead, the ground that felt unstable beneath his feet, the air thick with the stench of smoke and ash. It was literally like being trapped playing a bugged video game.
But what pissed him off more, was that Proxy was still out there, pulling strings like he were a puppet master. Bakugou clenched his fists, explosions popping in his palms. He wanted to find the lunatic and blow him to pieces. He wanted to make him pay, for everything.
Bakugou's phone buzzed in his pocket, the sound was sharp and instant. He pulled it out, it was an emergency message, the League were here, they had broken in, and... they're after him.
"Those bastards think they can just waltz in here and take me? Like hell!"
Before he could fully process the message, a loud crash echoed from somewhere below, followed by screams. Bakugou's head snapped toward the sound, his instincts kicking in. He didn't wait. He didn't think. He just moved, his feet pounding against the floor as he sprinted down the hall, his explosions propelling him forward with a force that left scorch marks in his wake.
As he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with Jiro, who was leaning on the wall with her right shoulder, her breathing was heavy. Her earlobes—usually extended in situations like this to pick up distant sounds—were oddly still, and her expression was tense, her dark eyes flickering with something Bakugou couldn't quite place.
"Bakugou," she said, her voice strained. "You okay?"
Bakugou glared at her, his hands still crackling with explosions. "What the hell do you think? Of course I'm fine. Though the League are coming for me and birdbrain. What the hell are you doing up here?" There was sarcasm in his tone.
Jiro shook her head, her dark hair swaying slightly. "I was trying to find a place to hide. The message said—"
"I don't give a damn about the message!" Bakugou snapped cutting her off. "I'm not hiding from those losers. If they want me, they can come and get me. I'll blow them to hell!"
Jiro's eyes narrowed, but she didn't argue. Instead she just shrugged and said, "Whatever,"
Bakugou's eyes narrowed in suspicion. That wasn't like Jiro, although he'd be the first to say that there are very few people he actually has a good enough read on.
But he know's that Jiro wouldn't back down super easily unless she were just uninterested, and again, her earlobes...
Bakugou felt something was off.
He know's about one of the League's members that can shapeshift—Himiko Toga. Was this her?
"Hey Earphones," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Can you hear anything down the hall? Any sign of anyone walking by?"
Jiro blinked, her expression unreadable. "Uh... no. It's quiet. Why?"
Bakugou's eyes flickered to her earlobes again. Still no movement. His suspicion only grew. If it really were Jiro, she'd be using her quirk to listen for danger. But she wasn't, now he knows she didn't need to focus a ton to hear things from a distance, but he knows that whenever she stutters like that and gets fidgety she usually twirls them with her finger. But she wasn't...
His hands twitched, he could feel a ripple, or more accurately, a bubbling sensation beneath his skin. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. "You sure about that? Because I thought your quirk was supposed to be good for stuff like this?"
Her expression tightened and shifted slightly, a flicker of something—nervousness?—crossing her face. "I... I just don't hear anything, that's it. I'm a little scared now."
Bakugou didn't buy it. He took another step closer, his hands outstretched, explosions building in his palms. "Yeah? Well, let me help you wake up."
Before the fake Jiro could react, Bakugou unleashed a blast, the force of the explosion sending her flying backwards. The scene ended with the sound of the blast echoing through the halls, the air thick with smoke.
He knew it wasn't Jiro.
"No need to take any chances with you League of Freaks."
The smoke from Bakugou's explosion hung thick in the air, swirling in chaotic patterns as it slowly began to dissipate. Bakugou stood amidst the haze, his hands still crackling with small explosions, his crimson eyes narrowed and scanning the area where the fake Jiro had been blasted backward. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his body tense and ready for whatever came next.
He took a step forward, his boots crunching against the debris scattered across the floor. His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of where the imposter had gone.
But before he could react, a sharp, high-pitched laugh echoed through the hallway. It was a laugh that sent a chill down his spine—a laugh that was unmistakably belonging to a psycho.
"Oh Bakugou~!" Toga's voice sang out, playful and taunting. "You're so much fun! I love how fiery you are!"
Bakugou's head snapped toward the sound, his eyes locking onto the figure of Toga as she emerged from the shadows. She was no longer disguised as Jiro; her blonde hair was tied up in messy buns, her golden eyes gleaming with manic energy. In her hands, she twirled a pair of knives, the blades glinting in the dim light.
"You think you're so clever, don't you?" Toga said, her voice dripping with mockery. "But you're just playing right into our hands!"
Bakugou's lips curled into a snarl. "Shut up, you psycho! I'll blow you to pieces!"
He launched himself forward, his explosions propelling him at blinding speeds. Toga giggled, her movements quick and erratic as she dodged his attacks. She darted around him, her knives slashing through the air with deadly precision. Bakugou growled, his explosions roaring as he countered her strikes, the force of his blasts sending her skidding backward.
Toga was relentless. She moved like a shadow, slipping in and out of his reach, her knives leaving shallow cuts on his arms and shoulders. Bakugou gritted his teeth, his anger boiling over. He hated this—hated how she danced around him, how she seemed to be toying with him.
"Stand still and fight damn it!" Bakugou roared, unleashing a massive explosion that tore through the hallway. The force of the blast sent Toga flying backward, but she twisted mid-air, landing gracefully on her feet.
"Oh Bakugou," Toga said, her voice sing-song. "You're so much fun, but you're not the only one I get to play with today."
Before Bakugou could respond, the ground beneath him shifted, the walls around him twisting and warping. He stumbled, his explosions faltering as the hallway transformed into a labyrinth of shifting walls and dead ends. The air grew heavy, the light dimming until he was surrounded by darkness.
"What the hell!?" Bakugou shouted, his voice echoing in the confined space. He turned, his expressions lighting up the area as he tried to find a way out. But the walls seemed to move on their own, closing in around him, trapping him in a maze with no exit.
A slow and deliberate clap rang out, the sound bouncing unnaturally through the warped corridors. Bakugou whirled toward it, his hands sparking as he prepared to blast his way free.
"Fascinating," a voice mused, calm and analytical. "You react with aggression even when faced with the unknown. Predictable from what we know of you Katsuki Bakugou."
Bakugou's scowl deepened. "Who the hell are you?! Show yourself, bastard!"
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward. He was tall and thin, his unkempt ash-brown hair falling over sharp, calculating eyes that gleamed with an eerie green glow. He adjusted his glasses, there were digital motifs running along the sleek black suit he wore pulsing faintly.
"I guess you are welcome to my own personal domain." the man's voice was dripping with condescension.
Bakugou bristled. "Tch, another freak. What kind of stupid quirk is this one then?"
The stranger tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. "Stupid? Hardly. You're inside my mind maze, your brute force is irrelevant here." He snapped his fingers and the walls suddenly pressed inward.
Bakugou snarled, launching a massive explosion at the nearest wall. The blast detonated with thunderous force, sending shockwaves through the space. But as the smoke cleared, the wall stood unscathed, unchanged, as if the explosion had never happened.
"What the—?!"
"You can't break what doesn't exist in the way you understand," the man continued, idly twisting a small puzzle cube in his hands. "This place is a reflection of your mind, shaped by perception, molded by thought. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink."
Bakugou clenched his fists. "Like hell I'm playing your dumb games! I'll tear this place apart!"
Another explosion erupted from his palms, but instead of meeting resistance, the fire and force were swallowed by the maze itself, vanishing as if they had never been.
The stranger smirked. "You're not listening. Here, raw power means nothing. Only those who can outthink their situation escape. Are you capable of that, or are you just another muscle-headed brute?"
Bakugou's breathing turned ragged, frustration seething beneath his skin. His mind raced—if explosions didn't work, then what the hell was he supposed to do? There had to be a way out. There was always a way out.
The walls shifted again, the passages twisting in on themselves like an optical illusion given form. Shadows slithered along the edges, creeping closer, whispering in voices that weren't his own.
And then, the stranger's voice cut through the chaos again, steady and mocking. "Let's see how long you last, shall we?"
***
"Great," a cheery voice spoke out. "He's down, but I didn't get to do much."
"You playing around with this twit wasn't the objective Toga."
"Stop being so mean Cipher,"
"This time I wasn't referring to you as a twit so relax." The tall man referred to as Cipher bent down and opened one of the closed eye lids of the UA student, his signature green question mark showed up on his eye ball, signifying that he was really out and locked in his world.
"That's so creepy."
He ignored Toga and explained his conditions he set him in.
"I placed all control on him so he can wake up any moment now, it was just the easiest one to do right now. Let's get to compress already, they may have the other one—!"
A loud crash was heard and the ground rumbled shaking the floor they were on.
"That must have been Muscular." Cipher liked the power that someone like Muscular had, but that was the only thing he could respect about him. "That meathead. With All Might gone, there shouldn't even be anyone he should be using so much power on."
Toga didn't respond to him, she was busy with her own little task.
"So heavy..." Right, she was to carry Bakugou until they found Compress.
***"Tokoyami was captured, Midoriya's still out and no one's seen Bakugou or Todoroki," A shrill and cowardly voice rung out. "We're screwed if they see us. We can't fight them. That big guy just took out Tokoyami with only a couple hits."
Mineta was shaking as he was crouched in between a wall and a couch that belonged in a lounge area. Beside him was his froglike classmate.
"Oh my God!" Tsuyu whispered lowly while gripping the hairs on her head. "Why is this happening to us? And All Might's not here either, where are the rest of the teachers?"
Both students shivered in fear while keeping as still as they could, they didn't want to just watch their friend get taken away, but they also did not have a clue on what they should do. They didn't have the muscle to fight someone like a Muscular like their other greenette friend did, or the balls like their explosion friend.
They felt bad, they felt a pit in their stomach growing darker at the thought that they would have to just let it happen and alert the teachers later.
All of this, ever since the start of the year, they have been targeted.
"I'm starting to regret this," Mineta whispered lowly, the shivering was slowly stopping.
A large stomp got them to raise their heads again. They were of the belief that Muscular had already left.
But again, his footsteps were too loud to be disregarded.
"Now I'm pretty sure I heard something from this corner..."
Their hearts skipped a beat before drumming against their ribs as they heard the killers voice much closer than it should have been.
He then let out a low gargled laugh.
"You know with my quirk I just enhanced the muscles in my ears and then I instantly heard the racing heartbeats of two young students."
Another laugh, this time louder and more proud. They were found. What were their options? Confront? Or just stay there showing off their cowardice and hoping he would just leave?
"Don't worry I'm not asking you to come out..." An option was being made for them. Tsuyu didn't feel it were right. "I'm just gonna push this couch in and crush you both like the pathetic worms you are!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The world felt like a cacophony of ruin. The once-proud halls of UA High school lay in shattered fragments, their skeletal remains jutting like broken teeth from the earth. Smoke coiled in the air, thick and suffocating, carrying with it the scent of burning wood, melted metal, and something far more primal.
Todoroki Shoto moved through the devastation like a specter, his mismatched eyes scanning the chaos with a cold, calculating precision. Frost crept up along his left arm, delicate tendrils of ice forming and dissolving in rhythm with his breath, while his right side radiated a subdued heat to balance him out, it was a promise of violence upon anyone tempting to ambush him on any side.
Beside him, Vlad King was like a mountain of muscle and resolve, his crimson blood quirk already swirling around him in intricate patterns, hardening into jagged constructs that glistened like wet blood in the dim light. The Pro Hero's face was set in a grim mask, his jaw clenched tight as he surveyed the destruction. They had been too late to stop the initial assault, they hadn't even noticed it coming, All Might couldn't get to them quick enough but Todoroki came up with something to shield them and those nearby. Now they just had to be there to save the one's that remained.
A scream pierced the air—high-pitched, desperate, and unmistakably human. Todoroki's head snapped toward the sound, his body moving before his mind could fully process the command. Vlad King was already ahead of him... "Get Ready!" he shouted to him.
Todoroki nodded as he rounded the corner only a couple steps behind Vlad King. What greeted them was a sight of horror.
Muscular stood at the center of the devastation, his grotesque enhanced body a monument to unchecked power. His muscles bulged and pulsed, veins writhing beneath his skin like serpents trapped in a cage. In his hand, he held Mineta by the collar, the small boy dangling like a ragdoll, his face pale and tear-streaked. Tsuyu stood a few feet away, her wide eyes filled with fear.
"You're all so pathetic," Muscular sneered, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very ground. "You think you can be heroes? You're just children playing dress-up!"
Todoroki didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, a jagged spire of ice erupted from the ground, slamming into Muscular's side with enough force to send him stumbling. The villain roared, his grip on Mineta loosening just enough for the boy to wriggle free and scramble toward Tsuyu.
"Get behind us," Vlad King commanded, his voice a thunderous boom that brooked no argument. His blood constructs surged forward, forming a protective barrier between the students and the villains. Mineta and Tsuyu obeyed without question, their relief palpable but short-lived.
Muscular's laughter echoed through the ruins, a sound that was equal parts amusement and malice. "Two more heroes to crush? This just keeps getting better!"
Todoroki's eyes narrowed, his breath visible in the frosty air. "You talk too much."
The battle erupted in a blur of motion and chaos. Todoroki's ice surged forward, encasing Muscular's legs in a frozen prison, but the villain tore free with a roar, his muscles expanding grotesquely as he shattered the ice with ease. Vlad King's blood constructs lashed out like whips, striking Muscular with enough force to crack stone, but the villain shrugged off the blows as if they were nothing.
"Is that all you've got?" Muscular taunted, his voice was booming like thunder. He lunged forward, his fist aimed squarely at Vlad King, but Todoroki intercepted with a burst of flame, the heat forcing Muscular to retreat momentarily.
The fight was a chaotic dance of fire, ice and blood, each move calculated but desperate. Todoroki's mind raced, his dual quirk working in perfect harmony as he alternated between offense and defense. But Muscular was relentless, his raw power overwhelming even their combined efforts.
Then, with a sudden burst of speed, Muscular grabbed something from the ground—a dark, crumpled figure. Tokoyami. The shadowy hero hung limply in Muscular's grasp, his quirk subdued, his body battered.
"I can't play all day long with you guys." Muscular growled, his voice low and dangerous. He turned and bolted down the hallway, his massive frame tearing through walls and debris as if they were paper.
"After him!" Vlad King shouted, already sprinting forward. Todoroki followed without hesitation, his heart pounding in his chest. They couldn't let Muscular escape. They couldn't let him take Tokoyami.
The chase was a blur of destruction. Muscular's path of devastation was easy to follow, but catching him was another matter entirely. Todoroki's ice surged ahead, creating barriers to slow the villain down, but Muscular smashed through them with ease. Vlad King's blood constructs lashed out, trying to ensnare Tokoyami and drag him back, but the villain layed a tight grip on him and his strength was too much.
Finally, they burst into a large, open area—what was left of UA's central courtyard. The scene that greeted them made Todorki's stomach drop.
The League of Villains were waiting.
Tomura Shigaraki stood at the center, his hand resting casually on his neck, his red eyes gleaming with malice. Twice muttered to himself, his mask shifting between expressions. Magne leaned on her giant magnet, Spinner adjusted his grip on his sword, and Cipher stood slightly apart. At the edge of the group, Mr Compress adjusted his mask, his gloved hands holding up a small, blue marble.
And in Muscular's grasp, Tokoyami hung limp, his breathing shallow.
"Took you long enough," Shigaraki rasped, his voice dripping with disdain and what sounded like boredom. "We were starting to think you'd given up"
Was there seriously no one else? No other hero teachers? Or heroes in the area?
Todoroki was starting to feel much more worry than when he had even seen the plane and had a feeling he was going to die.
"Twice, how many of your clones are still in their fighting?" The gears in Todoroki's head moved faster than they ever had before. That would be why the teacher's are not here yet,
"Just a few, No a lot!" he gave his answers. "They'll be all gone soon."
Shigarki nodded his head slowly and scratched his neck, lacking the intensity that Todoroki had associated with him whenever he notices the man doing said action.
Vlad King stepped forward, his blood constructs swirling menacingly. "Let the boy go. This ends now."
Shigaraki chuckled, the sound dry and brittle. "Oh, it's already over. You just refuse to acknowledge that you heroes are on a losing streak."
Before anyone could react, Muscular tossed Tokoyami's body over toward Mr. Compress, who caught him with a theatrical flourish. In one smooth motion, Compress tapped Tokoyami's shoulder, and the boy vanished, replaced by a small, blue marble. He held it up, the light glinting off it's surface.
"One down," Compress said, his voice smug. "And one to go."
From the shadows, Toga emerged, dragging an unconscious Bakugou behind her. She dropped him unceremoniously at Shigaraki's feet, her golden eyes gleaming with excitement. "He put up a good fight, but... well you know I guess."
Todoroki's fists clenched, his flames flickering to life. "You're not taking them."
Shigaraki tilted his head, his grin widening. "Oh but we already have."
Compress reached down, tapping Bakugou's shoulder. In an instant, the explosive hero student was reduced to another blue marble, joining Tokoyami in Compress's gloved hand.
"Another failure for you heroes," Shigaraki said, his voice rising with mockery. "How many students have to leave, die or disappear before you realize you're out of you're depth?"
The air around the League began to warp, a dark portal swirling to life behind them. Kurogiri's presence was unmistakable, his golden eyes glowing from within the void.
"This was fun," Toga said, waving her knife playfully. "Let's do it again sometime!"
Todoroki was on the move and running forward trying to catch up. "Get back here!"
Before he could act, a sudden roar of engines filled the air. A blur of blue and silver shot past him, too fast to follow. In an instant, the marble in Compress's hand was knocked free, flying through the air before shattering on the ground. Tokoyami tumbled out. disoriented but alive.
Tenya Iida skidded to a halt, his engines smoking, his glasses slightly askew. "I won't let you take them!" he declared, his voice was firm despite the exhaustion in his eyes.
From above floating debris and parts of the carcass of the plane had floated just above the League, there was some ruckus from them and then laughter.
Shigaraki held a wide grin, wider and more deranged than ever.
"Too little, too late heroes!"
The portal swallowed them whole and the falling debris just caused a big smoke screen for some moments. But that was it.
The League were gone.
Bakugou was gone.
Todoroki stood frozen, his flames flickering out, his ice melting into nothing. The courtyard was silent, save for the crackling of distant fires and the faint sound of Iida's engines cooling down.
They had lost Bakugou.
They had failed.
***Yuki had her hand on the hilt of her katana, there was subtle tension in her shoulders, the cold gleam in her eyes cut through the previous haze she had like the blade on her waist.
As they dropped to the ground they heard a scream, one that came from such a familiar voice.
A voice of their childhood's, of hope and inspiration. One that always reassured anyone that heard it. All Might was hurt.
As they approached the scene, they ducked and dived away from civilians in the area that had just appeared in the game world, and as they arrived at the scene of the fight all they scene was something of unparalleled intensity.
All Might and Endeavour, the two pillars of hero society, were locked in a battle that defied comprehension. Their movements were a blur of speed and power, their quirks colliding with such force that the air itself seemed to fracture.
And at the center of it all was him—Proxy. The enigmatic villain moved with an almost casual grace, his every action calculated, his every move a step ahead. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered, the buildings around them reduced to rubble as the three titans were clashing.
Yuki's hand tightened around her katana, her knuckles turned white. For a moment, the urge to join the fray burned within her, a fire that threatened to consume her icy exterior. But she was not one to act on impulse. She assessed the situation with the precision of a strategist, her mind weighing the risks and rewards.
"We'd only get in the way," she said, her voice low and steady.
Nejire glanced at her, her usual cheer replaced by a rare seriousness. "But... we can't just do nothing, can we?"
Ryukyu's voice cut in, calm and authoritative, echoed in their minds. "Our duty is to the people. We can't help them if we're caught in that crossfire."
Yuki nodded, her violet eyes scanning the surrounding area. The city was in chaos, it's streets filled with panicked civilians and the eerie glow of people just being forcefully brought in to this world. The sky looked as if it were getting darker, and that only made the scene look more horror-like.
Yes. All they could do was leave it to their strongest and hope for the best.
"We help them," Yuki said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We get them out of harms way."
The others nodded, their resolve hardening. Ryukyu descended with a grace that belied her massive form, her wings cutting through the air like a blade. As they touched down, the group sprang into action, each of them moving with a purpose that mirrored Yuki's own.
***All Might and Endeavour stood side-by-side, their bodies battered and bloodied, but their resolve unshaken. Their eyes were locked on the figure before them—Daigo Kiyoshi, Proxy. His blade dripped with blood, his expression one of cold detachment, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that might have been amusement, or perhaps even respect.
Endeavour's flames roared around him, a blazing inferno that illuminated the battlefield with an intense, golden light. His jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding together as he fought to suppress the pain that coursed through his body. His side was bleeding profusely, the wound from Proxy's blade a constant reminder of how dangerous this man swordsmanship was also.
All Might on the other hand, was a shadow of his former self. His muscles were trembling with exhaustion. His iconic smile was gone, replaced by a grim determination that burned in his eyes. His right arm hung limply at his side, the bones shattered from a previous clash with Proxy. But even in this state, he was a force to be reckoned with. The Symbol of Peace was not so easily broken.
Proxy tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. "You two just don't know when to quit, do you?" he said, his voice calm and mocking. "It's actually admirable."
Endeavour's flames flared brighter, the heat intensifying as his anger boiled over. "Shut up," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're done talking."
All Might didn't respond. Instead, he focused his energy, his muscles bulging as he prepared to unleash a devastating punch. The air around him cracked with power as he swung his fist, the force of the blow shattering the ground beneath him and sending shockwaves through the area.
Proxy teleported away, reappearing behind All Might with his blade already swinging. But Endeavour was ready. His flames surged forward, forming a barrier of a heat even more intense than he had already been using, the heat melted the blade causing Daigo to make it disappear in a flash and back away to bring out another one.
The heroes pressed on their assault.
All Might's mind raced as he analyzed the situation. He had noticed Proxy's movement's were slightly slower after each teleport, as though the act of warping space and time took a toll on his body. If they could exploit that, they might have a chance.
"Endeavour," All Might said, his voice was low and steady. "We need to limit his movements. Force him into a corner."
Endeavour nodded, his flames flaring brighter as he prepared to execute the plan. He unleashed a massive firestorm, the heat so intense it melted the ground beneath them. The flames surged forward, creating a wall of fire that again forced Proxy to retreat.
All Might took advantage of this opening, his body moving with the speed and precision of a seasoned warrior. He launched himself forward, his fist aimed directly at Proxy's chest. The villain teleported away, but All Might anticipated the move. He pivoted mid-air, his fist slamming into the ground and creating a shockwave that disrupted Proxy's teleportation.
Proxy reappeared a few feet away, his body momentarily unstable. Endeavour was already there, his flames surging forward to create a barrier that trapped the villain. Proxy's eyes widened as he realized what was happening... All Might was already in motion.
All Might was coming down fast, his fist connected with Proxy's chest, the force of the blow sending shockwaves through the air. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered, the impact creating a massive crater. Proxy's body crumpled under the force, his blade falling from his hand as he was sent flying backward.
This is the point where the villain would be down and All Might would raise his hand in the air screaming 'Plus Ultra!'
But no, he didn't stop. He followed through with the attack, his fist slamming into Proxy's chest again and again, each blow more powerful than the last. The sound of bones cracking through the air, the sickening crunch of flesh and bone a testament to the sheer force of his punches.
Endeavour watched from a distance, his flames flickering as he caught his breath. He knew this was it—the final blow. All Might was unleashing everything he had, his body pushed to its absolute limit. The Symbol of Peace was not holding back.
Proxy's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, his chest caved in from the force of All Might's punches. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the ground a dark, ominous red. His breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, each exhale a shuddering gasp.
All Might stood over him, his body trembling with exhaustion. His fist was still clenched, smoke rising from the impact. His eyes burned with a fierce determination, but there was also a hint of sadness. This was not how he wanted it to end.
This was not a moment he would happily scream 'Plus Ultra.'
Proxy looked up at him, his eyes filled with a strange calm. He smiled, a gentle, almost peaceful expression on his face. "You did it," he said, his voice barely above whisper. "You won. The hero wins again."
All Might didn't respond. He simply stood there, his body trembling with exhaustion, his mind racing with the weight of what he had just done.
Proxy's smile widened, his eyes closing as he took a final, shuddering breath. "Even though there may have been a lot of bad," he said, his voice fading, "I really enjoyed this life. Maybe in the next one... I'll truly find a Eden."
And with that, Proxy... Daigo Kiyoshi took his final breath.
The scene fell silent, the only sound was the crackling of Endeavour's flames and the distant rumble of collapsing buildings. All Might stood over Proxy's lifeless body, his fist still clenched, his body trembling with exhaustion. He had done it. He had ended the nightmare.
Endeavour approached, his flames flickering as he caught his breath. "It's over," he said, his voice low and steady.
All Might nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and sorrow. "It's over," he repeated.
The two heroes stood side by side, their bodies battered and bloodied, but their resolve unshaken. They had faced the impossible and emerged victorious. But the cost had been high—too high.
As the sun began to set below the horizon, casting a deep tan light over the battlefield, All Might and Endeavour turned and walked away, their heads held high. They had done what needed to be done. And in the end, that was all that mattered.
Eventually, they started shimmering. Their bodies were glowing and they felt like they were fading away... they were returning back home, to the real world.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"That's something I never thought I'd see." The voice that spoke beside me sounded happy but also a little disappointed.
"Honestly, I really wanted to be the one to see if I could make All Might get his first kill." Daiki spoke with a poetic tone that would make many people think he is of high class, but obviously I knew that weren't the case.
None of us were dead. And we were finally back in out real world. I was alive, so was Nagant, So were the rest of the small crew that was sent out.
That was surprising. But the reason for it cleared it all up.
"Well since we're basically allies Kobe, I might hold off on trying to kill you." He spoke while putting his hand out, he was looking for me to shake it. "But know, alliances between big villain groups like ours, do not last."
That was something I believed, people naturally are filled with too much hubris, so a self-proclaimed villain would obviously live like that too.
I shook his hand, the adrenaline was gone so the pain arrived. Daiki was powerful, how did the League of Villains recruit someone like him?
If I were fully on the heroes side I think that I would be feeling a little scared for my future.
Daiki then looked to the people in the distance which were part of the little Proxy elimination squad and waved to them.
"Next time we meet will be around the week of the Hero's Eve."
With that he blitzed away without even leaving a trail of wind.
Thank God for that. I still had a small window of opportunity before without the chance of getting caught. Due to the power of both my quirks I have a pretty good sense of danger and when people intend to do me harm and how close they may be.
Near us right now, far above the clouds looking down and getting ready to swoop in with a lethal kill-shot, was Hawks.
There was no way or reason to risk a fight with him now. And I already had a way to stop that and it was being sent in his direction.
"How do you know him?" Nagant asked me, her arms were crossed and she seemed to calm down.
Ren, Miku and Arata were all analyzing me intensely too waiting for an answer. Well I obviously wasn't going to give them a real answer.
"Just an old friend I guess." There was no way I'd actually call Daiki a friend, he was a madman that I didn't want anything to do with, hoping he would die out on his own without bothering anyone.
Miku scoffed and Ren shrugged her shoulders, I heard Arata repeat what I said in a low mutter. This is something that would be reported to Destro, I wonder if he'd call me in to try and figure out my past with him. That would just tell me that Destro knows more people that I wouldn't expect him to know.
The attack on Hero's Eve, well I noticed that Hawks stopped his movements and due to the paper bird landing on a nearby building it should be following my next instructions now. Which were to unravel and give him the information that I have found out, like the attack that will happen on Hero's eve.
"Let's head back to the base." Arata announced.
"Wait—" Nagant halted everyone. "Since Proxy is dead, we're not obligated to follow you guys anymore."
True, but why would she bring that up now. If these guys wanted to fight it would just cause noise that the heroes would pick up on and pounce on us.
"We believe it may be best to head back to the base first and then discuss that." Arata started with a cool motion. "But it's understandable if you don't want to do that and just leave now. But where would you go?"
Nowhere.
She has nowhere to go and a shoddy ambition at best. Staying with the MLA or going back to the commission are her best options.
She sighed and resigned letting herself be lifted up by a paper dragon this time.
Anyway, as I was saying. The information in Hawk's hand now details that the League are working with the MLA as well as the fact that many villains and organizations have decided to also work under the league and all plan to show out during the Hero's Eve attack.
Information on the fact that the MLA have at least 50000 members, although less than a quarter of that population is capable of mobilising and fighting as Destro wouldn't deploy all his people for All For One.
And lastly, I left some information about the Eden Project, information that tells him I was a part of it and that I know the commission is keeping it a secret... soon he or someone else close to him will find a way to get in contact with me.
And that was the goal.
Now I'll have to wait for a contact and then start planning a way out of this dumb organization. But then again, with the way things have been for the heroes I don't think they have it in them to get the win if they went up against the combined forces in a couple months time.
***
November 1st
National Broadcast | 7:00 PM JST
It was the day after Halloween but you wouldn't be able to tell looking at the streets of Japan. It was only a few days after the nationwide incident and no one wanted to be out in big groups for too long out of fear. They didn't know what would happen.
Information about the outcome with Proxy was never stated, some people started having manic episodes believing they were still in that world, that we were all brainwashed into thinking they were home, alive and well.That only added to the fear but today's news should clear all doubts.
The screen flickers, shifting from a brief weather report to the main evening news segment. The set is pristine, polished and sterile in it's perfection. Behind the anchor, a digital display looms, showing a solemn montage of the Pro Hero commission's emblem, flickering images of a devastated U.A. campus, and a shadowed figure labeled "Proxy."
The nation watches in silence as the anchor, a poised woman in her mid-forties with an expression carefully schooled into professional solemnity, straightens her papers and begins to speak.
"Good evening Japan. This is Kiyomi Tanaka, bringing you the latest on what is now being called the single most decisive victory in our nation's battle against villainy. One week ago, on the evening of October 25th, Japan's greatest heroes engaged in a critical battle against one of the most dangerous threats in recent history, Daigo Kiyoshi, the villain known as Proxy. We can now confirm Proxy has fallen and was slain in battle.
The Hero Commission has declared this a momentous victory for out country, citing the efforts of our heroic forces, particularly out Number 1 and Number 2 heroes, for ensuring that justice was served. The Commission urges the nation to stand in gratitude, as this battle has prevented further catastrophic loss.
They would also like to apologize for the delayed response regarding this matter, while also reassuring you that everything was handled with the necessary efficiency to ensure the nations safety.
In other news, U.A. High School, one of Japan's most esteemed institutions for hero education, has officially announced indefinite closure following the brutal attack that has been confirmed to have been orchestrated by Proxy himself. The assault, which came from an aircraft in command by another unfortunate victim of his, left countless injured and resulted in four confirmed deaths. While identities of the victims remain undisclosed out of respect for their families, it has been reported that students, faculty members and Pro Heroes alike have suffered losses.
In response, the government has declared that the remainder of the day, November 1st, will be observed as a day of silence to honour our saviours and the fallen.
Stay safe Japan. And remember—Heroes will always fight for us."
The screen fades to black, transitioning into a montage of flickering candle flames, a silent homage to the lives lost.
***Stress lines were on the face of the head of the commission, Rika Amamiya. She never got transported but she was waiting for it, only to then be glad to see Hawks appear back in his position with news that the madman Daigo Kiyoshi had been killed.
But that joy didn't last long. She knew it wouldn't she was only waiting for the calls and complaints to start rushing in, she had barely even thought of the incident that happened in UA. But what Hawks brought back had set her off even more.
Soryu, or better yet, Kobe Arakawa. He knows all about the Eden Project, he knows that the commission has been hiding it and even more, he brought information about an attack being planned by the League of Villains and the remnants of Destro's army, by a supposed heir.
Everything was going wrong.
She had turned off the Tv projection that she laid on the desk in front of the necessary people in the room so they could get started on their meeting. Those in the room were few, one of the people being Hideaki Kurogami, the towering bear-like figure was sat in silence with a look of shame on his face.
He had been a major investor in the Eden project, wanting to curry up favour while also testing his limits. He has claimed to be a changed man, but how was she to tell when he couldn't even bring the information of all the project had done to her himself.
Across from him to her right was Hawks with his feet on the table as he leaned back on his swingy chair, he whistled out a tune as the news segment ended. Beside him was Best Jeanist and across from him was Edgeshot.
Hawks had gathered them all and decided that it would be best to not include Sir Nighteye, stating that he looks like he's going manic whenever he speaks about the bad future that is to come. And he seems to obsessive on his target Soryu.
"Some people are still out there worrying and I would like to be out there helping any way I can." Best Jeanist said in a cold tone.
Before Rika could speak, Hawks interrupted.
"Hold it, many people are actually still inside, scared. Any minute now and the old man will be here and then we can start."
Hawks had also decided to go and fetch someone else and told Rika that it's a surprise. She didn't like it, how he was so casual and playful in situations like this, she knew deep down he probably felt as terrible as they did, but he was raised to suppress that side of himself.
A few seconds later the door opened slowly, without a knock, and in came a little old man in a white hero suit with yellow accents, a yellow cape and thick yellow boots, in his hands was a bag of crisps that he lifted up and tilted to finish the remainder. He then dumped the bag in the bin and let out a loud burp which Hawks laughed at and Rika and the rest found disgusting.
This little old man was a hero named Gran Torino. Someone who had been fighting crime for many years now, and some even believed he had stopped.
He walked over to the space to the left side from Rika's perspective, he sat beside Edgeshot.
"Nice to meet all you youngins. You can all address me as Torino." He said as he sat down quietly.
"Hawks," Rika said in a curious tone. "Can I ask why you decided to scoop him up and not just leave it at us five."
"Well he worked with Nighteye for a long time so if need be he could give us a certain perspective that is similar."
She sighed and lifted up her papers and welcomed the elder hero. He nodded in response.
She didn't know which to start with, the heroes eve incident that she wants to cancel, or the news about the Eden Project.
A rumble and low cough came from her left, it was Hideaki. So he wanted to start it.
"To start, I want to remind you all that everything said in here is confidential and will have it's time to reach the outside world. A time that is not now. So for now you will be briefed on a topic that heavily revolves around the young man known as Soryu."
"Ooh that young skipper," Gran Torino interrupted. "he was a classmate of the brat that interned with me."
That was information they already knew, but it was still welcome. The old man seemed to be in bliss, less aware, maybe it was age, Rika didn't know since he had hardly done any interviews that she could compare it to.
A cough came that stopped all speaking.
"I will be speaking about this subject," Hideaki interjected. "The Eden Project."
There were curious faces among the heroes that knew nothing. And Hideaki satiated that curiosity.
"This was an initiative set forth by the previous head of the Commission, Tatsuo Kanzaki. Kanzaki sought to craft the next generation of heroes, ones who could dominate the top ten, specifically to create the next All Might." He let that sit in for a moment, his gaze lowering. "He needed investors. Those who funded the project were granted untouchable positions within the commission, securing their influence indefinitely."
Best Jeanist's hand curled into a fist on the table. Edgeshot's eyes narrowed, his normally tranquil presence shifting into something colder and sharper.
"They sourced their subjects from orphanages and reformatory schools," Hideaki continued. "Children with no guardians, no one to report them missing. Some were labelled delinquents, destined for behavioral correctional camps that were, in reality, fronts for the project."
Gran Torino's eyes, sharp despite his age, flickered with recognition. "That's like those orphanages that get found out trying to create super soldier's after some big war."
The elder man was right, but he was mainly referencing history from long ago, even before the first quirk was sighted. They were big in Europe, mainly Germany and countries it borders.
"The similarities are undeniable," Hideaki admitted. "The methods used in the Eden Project were... unforgiveable." He drew in a breath. "The children were subjected to conditions designed to erase weakness, both physical and emotional. They were tested under extreme duress—starvation, sensory deprivation, and prolonged exposure to hallucinogens to distort their perception of reality. Isolation rooms, pitch black or blindingly white, were common. Physical endurance trials meant to push them beyond their limits often resulted in fatalities."
Rika remained composed in her chair. Hawks had gone still, watching the others with quiet calculation.
"The children were required to kill," Hideaki continued. "Only once, but if they did not do that then they would be made to watch others die in their place. They were assigned numbers instead of names, reducing their sense of identity. When they killed, they were made to deliver eulogies for their victims—and for themselves, as if they were already dead."
A sharp intake of breath came from Best Jeanist. "Monstrous," he uttered, barely containing the revulsion in his voice. "How is that supposed to create heroes. That's not humane."
"Many of them lost the ability to feel fear. To feel sorrow. Those who showed hesitation were broken down further," Hideaki admitted, his voice quieting. "They were made to disassociate. Anything unnecessary was removed."
Edgeshot's gaze bore into him, unreadable but filled with something fierce and restrained. "And you invested in this," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You put your money into this horror show?"
Hideaki flinched. "I did. At the time I didn't see anything wrong with it. And I was promised a position of high rank within this organization, we were just at the tail end of an oncoming mutant war and I wanted to be in a place where I would hold influence. And more than that I thought it was needed."
"How?" Best Jeanist snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. "You were complicit! You sat and watched while children were abused and left each other broken and you thought it was for some good?"
Hawks just sighed, lifting his hands. "Relax Jeanist. We're not here to rip the guy apart just yet."
"Yet?" Edgeshot repeated. "Are you suggesting we let this go?"
"I'm suggesting we listen," Hawks corrected, still calm but his eyes sharp. "We can tear into him later, plus he's not going anywhere. Have any of you met his daughter?" Hawks jeered, Hideaki shown no visible reaction to that.
"Oh God." Gran Torino breathed out, he already knew where this was going.
"She was a part of the project too." There was a sudden freeze from the previous heroes in the room. Hideaki nodded and continued while staring down at the table. "But she only came under my care after the current head came into position and shut the project down."
There were no more words they could add to show how much they did not like the man that sat so near the head of the table. So he carried on.
Hideaki exhaled and steeled himself. "The first subject of the Eden Project... was Daigo Kiyoshi. Proxy."
Silence. The weight of the revelation was suffocating.
"He was Kanzaki's son," Hideaki finally said, watching as the others reeled from the revelation. "The first experiment. Kanzaki had been performing these experiments long before he came into his position as head of the commission so there was very little rough work he had to conduct before getting straight into it."
"Really," Gran Torino drawled. "I'd say the boy turned out shit."
"I never met the last commission head. How was he like?" Best Jeanist asked.
Rika felt that this time she could give an answer, she had been politically battling him for long and had met with him and had plenty conversations with him over the years.
"He was slimy." she started. "He was able to keep his persona clean for the public but he was more deranged, I never thought it could get so far that he would be conducting experiments on his own child, but he was obsessive and never actually cared for public safety or anything close to it. He just wanted to get as much power as he could and live life as he pleased."
"Was his funeral secret, cause I never seen his name in the death index?" Jeanist asked again.
And that's when things got weird.
"As far as I know, the man isn't dead, but in hiding."
A look of shock and worry was etched on the faces of the heroes in the room, all except Hawks of course, as her right hand Rika couldn't have him lag behind like that.
"I've had Hawks and a small team of commission trained individuals to follow any leads that we have come across but there's been nothing about him."
Best Jeanist was about to ask another question but Hawks cut him off, "Let's get back to Hideaki please."
All eyes went back to the bear and let him carry on.
"Another name we all know is Soryu, or Kobe Arakawa. He was brought into the program when he was nine years old." His voice was heavy with knowledge. "He was one of the most promising subjects, ranking among the best. His potential... was assessed to be capable of reaching at the very least the number three hero ranking when it came to power. If not higher."
Edgeshot's fists clenched. "That boy was meant to be a hero."
"They all were." Hideaki looked at everyone with dark eyes and remorse. "But from what we can tell, our training certainly didn't make any of them want to follow in that path, instead they all seemed to have an aversion to it."
"How were they lost?" Rika asked, this was something she didn't even know. She shut down the project but she never sent any operatives to guide the children out.
"I don't know," That answer certainly disappointed the small crowd that was there, "All I know is, when I got there the only person I could find was Akari, hiding in a cupboard. I then decided to take her in after that. From the mess that was left I assumed the children all worked together or fought each other when they seen no one watching over them and then found a way to escape together. But we won't know unless one of them tell us."
"Your kid has nothing to say?" Hawks asked.
"As I said, she was hidden when she said fighting and screaming started so she didn't know what went on other than a sudden silence before everyone just started to leave."
There were a few cracks and pops of relief and heads shaking at the news they had heard. The silence was unbearable and Gran Torino decided to speak up first.
"What's the deal with Soryu then?" He asked. "Are you really gunning after him with such a high villain ranking? There are only a handful that have ever received the nationwide threat level on their heads."
Rika looked to Hawks and the other two top ten heroes.
"Well, I really didn't know what to do about him. Nighteye came in one day and said he seen a terrible future with him in it and saying that his capture is top priority." She answered honestly.
Gran Torino looked to be contemplating something for a minute.
"The fact that he came out and told you of his quirk is a surprise, but that also means he is truly taking the boy incredibly serious." The old man then started scratching at his head. "But knowing his past and even getting detailed reports about the boy, he may be someone that still thinks being a hero would be worth something, even though he's a little brutal."
Hideaki started rummaging around and then picked out a USB and plugged it into the table to show up on the holographic display that rose up.
"This will show you all the members of the Eden project that did make appearances." he said. "All of them became involved in crime some way or another."
The screen flickered to life, projecting a series of images and data files. One by one, the names and faces of those who had emerged from the Eden Project were revealed. Each file grim, each story a tragedy.
Shinji Masaru - The Flesh Architect
Crime: Organ Trafficking, experimental surgeries on live victims.
Status: Killed by rival crime syndicate.
Notes: Shinji ran an underground operation, using his quirk
Graft to transplant and modify bodies at will. He was found brutally dismembered, his own organs harvested.
Rina Eguchi - WidowmakerCrime: High-profile assassinations.
Status: Suicide after cornered by law enforcement.
Notes: Rina's quirk,
Hollow Point, allowed her to accelerate and redirect projectiles with deadly precision. She was found in a hotel room, with a single bullet wound going through her skull.
Tetsuya Fujioka - Phantom
Crime: Serial Kidnappings, human hunting games.
Status: Found torn apart in a custom-made trap. Believed to be part of the creation of said trap.
Notes: Tetsuya possessed Predator's Gift, a quirk that gave him heightened senses and monstrous physicality. He ran an underground 'game' where captives were forced to evade him for sport. When heroes finally closed in on him, they found him mangled in a trap as he was attempting to evade capture.
Aira Momose - Silent Swan
Crime: Mind control, Extortion, high-profile political manipulation.
Status: Executed by a hero in the field.
Notes: Aira's quirk,
Echo Chamber, allowed her voice to override the will of others. She had manipulated several politicians into passing harmful laws before she was confronted by authorities. Best Jeanist had been among those who fought her.
Hiroshi Kaname - VeilCrime: Espionage, government infiltration, blackmail.
Status: Disappeared. Whereabouts unknown.
Notes: Hiroshi's quirk,
Shroud,
made him undetectable in darkness and electronic devices. He had infiltrated multiple government facilities, stealing classified data before vanishing without a trace. His file remains open, and his last known location was over three years ago.
Hideaki let the silence stretch, allowing the weight of the information to settle in the room. Best Jeanist was the first to react, his voice cold with disbelief. "So every single one of these so-called 'projects' turned to crime. And all but one ended up dead. Tell me Hideaki, how is this anything but a horror story?"
Edgeshot's eyes narrowed. "You said this was meant to create the next generation of heroes. What it created was death, destruction and suffering. There's no justifying this."
"I'm not justifying anything," Hideaki firmly replied. "I know exactly what it is. That's why I brought it to the table. The commission's hands are covered in blood. This was the cost of their vision. And now it's our problem."
Gran Torino, who had been silent up to this point, shook his head slowly. "All that training, all that suffering... and not one of them turned out the way you wanted, maybe its rebellion. But either way it ain't just tragic, its a goddamn disgrace."
Hawks, sat their thinking. 'There's a lot more to this meeting we still haven't discussed, I'd rather get to it soon.'
"Well there's more too. Names and faces that I got last week."
"How?" Hideaki asked, this was the only time his voice seemed to be raised.
Hawks then pulled out a USB that was wrapped in 'paper. "Soryu gave it to me at the end of his battle with a young man who's name is on this named, Daiki Tenma."
Hideaki wasn't the only one with a look of surprise, but so were the rest of the heroes in the room. Three of them were part of a squad that was meant to capture Soryu, but none of them had even got close, and now it sounded to them like they were hearing that Hawks got close enough to make some kind of exchange.He corrected that.
"I'm guessing he sensed me or seen me above ready to swoop down and take him out, then he sent a paper bird to me which unravelled to be a few sheets of information on what he's up to and a USB revealing much more information about the Eden Project."
"But that's not it." Rika interjected. "We've spoken plenty about the dreadful project, we should now focus on the information that Kobe handed us, since it is incredibly important."
She placed the papers under a shining light which then showed up on the hologram with the information she had wanted them all to see.
"This is about an attack on the Hero's Eve." Hawks said, his voice serious. "Soryu's intel confirms that both Destro's faction and the League of Villains are planning a coordinated attack on the festival. More than that, it details and unprecedented level of organization among criminals." He tapped the screen. "All For One's name is all over this."
At the mention of that name only Gran Torino reacted visibly. The others were oblivious, but the weight in the air was undeniable.
Gran Torino exhaled sharply, leaning forward with his fingers steepled. "So he's still pulling strings from the dark."
Rika nodded. "That's correct. And this document confirms that he has unified nearly all active criminal organizations under his influence. The attack on Hero's Eve won't be a rogue act, it will be a large scale assault.
"Then we cancel the event," Hideaki said, his voice firm.
"It's not that simple," Rika replied. "The festival is deeply ingrained in tradition. It's more than just an event, it's a political statement. Cancelling it requires full agreement from the government and multiple parties within the commission. There's already a chance they know that we are onto them for the entire Eden Project and working with Proxy since the beginning, so they would just view that as a chance to escape."
There was a moment of silence.
"Then what's the play here?" Best Jeanist asked.
Hawks tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table, then smirked. "We work with Soryu." he said.
"You're joking right?" Jeanist narrowed his eyes. "We've spent months trying to capture him, and now you're suggesting we ally with him?"
"Somewhat, more just a continuous trade of information." Hawks clarified. "He's already given us more than we've uncovered on our own regarding the Eden Project, add on the incoming attack. Now it's time to stop hunting him or we'll really be pushing him towards the villains. He has eyes on things we don't. Let's use that potential... the right way, right Hideaki?"
The bear nodded his head in agreeance. And the Commission head took back over the conversation.
"And Nighteye?"
"We keep him out of the loop as best we can," Hawks said bluntly. "He's slipping into obsession. Every time Soryu comes up, he loses focus. I don't trust him to see the bigger picture anymore."
A murmur of reluctant agreement followed.
"So how do we prepare for an attack we can't officially acknowledge?" Gran Torino asked.
"We slowly drop hints," Hawks answered. "Nothing direct until we're closer to the day. In case some we're being listened in on by traitors. Also," he paused while glancing at everyone in the room. "We're going to have to include students in this."
There was a subtle tenseness in the room but nobody spoke up again.
"They'll already be there anyway, most likely. So it's best we key them in so they don't get in the way and instead work in conjunction and do their part."
They all nodded their heads at that. Heroes like those in the top ten will come to know this information within the coming days of course, it was far too important not to include them early on.
Although they didn't want to disturb those close to UA right now, they were going through enough troubles already. They had lost their home ground, many were injured, some even died and now one of their top first year students had been kidnapped by the League.
Jeanist let out a tired sigh but then spoke again about something he was planning to stay quiet about.
"The hit that was on the Ministry of Justice," The news reported the man as assassinated but few in the room knew of his actual status. "Soryu faked the man's death, but he didn't say who targeted him."
"We can make assumptions." Rika said, "Regardless, it's one more thing we owe him for."
The room sat in contemplation, the weight of their decisions pressing heavily. Finally, it was decided, Hawks and Gran Torino would be tasked with tracking Soryu down, establishing a line of communication, and planning their next moves.
As the meeting drew to a close, the sense of unease lingered. They were balancing on the edge of a blade, and the next few weeks would determine if they could prevent another disaster, or crumble and be swallowed by it.
***A single, flickering light buzzed overhead, casting eerie, distorted shadows along the cracked concrete walls. The League of Villain's hideout smelled of stale smoke, old wood, and something faintly metallic, blood, maybe rust from the damp air.
The room itself was dim, a cluttered space that seemed neither here nor there, a forgotten corner of society, perfect for people who lived in shadows.
And in the center of it all, tied to a chair with thick ropes that dug into his arms, ankles, and torso, was Katsuki Bakugou.
He was bound with care, his wrists double-knotted behind his back and his mouth wrapped in tight bondage, silencing whatever explosive curses he had undoubtedly been hurling at them when he woke before they gagged him. His red eyes burned with hatred, fierce and untamed, scanning each and every villain in the room as if memorizing their faces for when the tables turned. If they turned.
The League members stood around him, all regarding their prize in their own ways. Toga hummed as she swayed on her heels, tilting her head with curiosity. "The media hasn't even spoke of this, it's been a week." she noted, almost disappointed. "I was expecting some breaking news by now! 'Explosive UA student missing! Could it be the League's doing?'" Her voice was airy, light, but her golden eyes gleamed with something unsettling.
Twice crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, then crossed them again. "Oh, he's not gonna join us. Not a chance. Nope, nope, nope—maybe?—Nope." He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head. "He's not too stubborn. I like stubborn, but I also hate stubborn!"
"And so what if he does," Spinner muttered, crossing his arms, eyes narrowing at the boy. "Shigaraki only wanted to prove a point."
And that point was evident in the way Shigaraki watched Bakugou with an almost childlike amusement. He didn't care if Bakugou joined them or not. He wasn't here to recruit, well he kind of did want one of UA's top students, it would make a point if everyone seen one join his team.
Kurogiri was nearby, silent as always, his mist shifting subtly in the dim light. Compress leaned against a crate, fingers tapping idly against his mask. Miyu Ogawa, seated further away paying very little attention.
"We should keep him bound," Magne stated, her arms folded as she frowned. "He's dangerous, and too aggressive."
But Shigaraki ignored her. He lifted a hand, fingers twitching slightly. "Twice, take off the bindings."
There was a pause. Toga's eyebrows raised. Spinner frowned. Even Twice hesitated. "You sure? Cause I can do that, but I also don't wanna do that, but I'll do it anyway—"
"Just do it," Shigaraki snapped, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Twice muttered under his breath but obeyed, stepping forward and unwrapping the bonds around Bakugou's arms and his mouth.
The moment Bakugou felt his arms free, he wasted no time.
His palm ignited, sparks crackling to life, but before he could unleash an explosion, Muscular's massive hand clamped over his wrist, engulfing it entirely. The explosion went off, but it was muffled, contained within Muscular's grasp, the heat licking at his skin but doing little damage.
Muscular let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh man, that barely tickled. What, you goin' soft on us, kid? Must be 'cause you've been all cooped up in that little cell of yours. Weakening already?" His grin widened, his eyes or his lone real eye gleaming with excitement.
Bakugou snarled, his teeth bared like a cornered animal. "Shitty bastard—!"
But before he could say more, Muscular swiftly wrenched his arms back and secured them once again, this time even tighter. He left Bakugou's mouth uncovered, though, as if daring him to keep talking.
Shigaraki crouched down in front of him now, resting his chin on his palm, elbows propped on his knees. His red eyes were unreadable, but there was something almost playful in the way he tilted his head.
"I'm not gonna ask you to join us, not yet anyway," he said casually. "Don't really care if you do or don't."
Bakugou scowled. "Then what the hell do you want?"
Shigaraki shrugged. "Just conversation."
Bakugou had a stupefied expression on his face. "You kidnap me for fucking conversation. Go talk to someone else you freak."
Shigaraki smirked. "You're angry. Always angry. But you're scared too, aren't you?"
Bakugou's hands twitched against the bindings, but his glare remained unyielding. "Scared? Of you rejects? Keep dreaming."
Shigaraki leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "Why do you wanna be a hero?"
Bakugou rolled his eyes. "Because I wanna be the best, and smashing your face in would be a bonus."
"Hm," Shigaraki's gaze lingered, then he asked. "Who's your favourite?"
"All Might," Bakugou replied instantly, his voice filled with certainty.
Shigaraki's fingers twitched. His lips curled ever so slightly in distaste. "Of course."
Bakugou snorted, "What? That piss you off?"
Shigaraki didn't rise to the bait. "Not really. Just keep on seeing how stupid our society is."
Bakugou sneered. "Yeah? And what do you know about society?"
Shigaraki's eyes darkened. "I know it's rotten. And it deserves to fall."
Bakugou let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "You sound like a broken record, man. Same villain crap, over and over."
Shigaraki's fingers twitched again. His expression remained unreadable for a moment longer before he straightened, glancing toward Kurogiri.
"Sedate him. Put him back in his cell."
Bakugou barely had time to react before Kurogiri's mist curled around him, and a sharp prick of a needle against his neck made his vision blur. His struggles grew sluggish, his breath uneven. His mind screamed at him to fight, but his body was already betraying him, sinking into numbness.
The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him whole was Shigaraki's unwavering stare, watching him like a piece of meat to be bought at a butchers.
And everything went dark. Again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"The eve approaches, clothed in gilded light, a night of remembrance, of honor, of triumph. The faithful gather, lifting voices to the heavens, hands clasped in prayer, in gratitude, in hope. They call upon the righteous, upon the sentinels, upon the mighty to stand unwavering against the tide. But the heavens are silent.
For in the quiet, something stirs. A prophecy unspoken, a fate unwritten—threads of destiny fray, not by the hands of gods, but by the will of men. A seer watches, his vision clouded by an ending he cannot rewrite. A titan stands, bearing the weight of a world that no longer belongs to him. In the void, a specter breathes life into a dream long denied, calling forth disciples not of faith, but of ruin. And from the shadows, a storm gathers—not to cleanse, but to consume.Tonight, the world bears witness to a revelation not of salvation, but of reckoning. The lanterns will burn, the people will sing, and the heroes will rise. But when the dawn breaks, they shall find their wings fractured, their altars desecrated, their prayers left unanswered.For the victors write the scriptures of tomorrow. And tomorrow… does not belong to the just."________________The office smelled of old leather and burnt tobacco. The walls were a deep shade of mahogany, adorned with relics of ideology—framed documents with bold declarations, old photographs of men who had long since turned to dust. A massive desk of polished black wood loomed at the center, it's surface pristine save for a single glass of amber liquor resting near the man seated behind it.
Destro—Rikiya Yotsubashi—sat in the high-backed chair like a monarch upon his throne. He was a man who carried himself with the weight of generations, shoulders squared, hands folded together in a display of patient calculation. His tailored suit, a deep navy blue, contrasted against the sharp white of his gloves.
His face was so calm yet his eyes flickered with curiosity. The only thing breaking the stillness was the distant hum of the city, lights sprawling endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He finally spoke. "Tell me, how do you know Daiki Tenma?"
The words rolled out smoothly, yet there was an edge to them, like a knife concealed between silk. The question had weight—it wasn't idle curiosity.
I didn't flinch. I had already prepared a lie the moment I stepped into this office. I let out a breath and leaned back slightly in the leather chair across from him, feigning ease. "Daiki?" I exhaled, shaking my head with a half-hearted chuckle. "We weren't exactly close. Met him a few years back when I was in Okinawa. He wasn't a friend—just some guy who liked to push me around for kicks."
A lie. A comfortable lie, seamless lie. One I had no intention of correcting. The truth was something that belonged to me and me alone.
Destro's gaze lingered on me, measuring, weighing, my answer. He tapped a single finger against his glass, a rhythmic sound against the crystal. "Interesting."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn't press further. Instead, he nodded, as if tucking my words away for later examination.
"Do you know his quirk?" he asked me next.
This, I didn't hesitate to answer. "Yeah. It's called Thunder."
Destro raised a brow, his curiosity was piqued. I continued, letting my words shape the image of Daiki's power.
"His quirk lets him control momentum." I shifted in my seat, my voice steady. "But it's not just speed, it's force, inertia, weight distribution. He can take a step forward and, if he wants, make it so that he moves three steps instead of one. He can redirect kinetic energy mid-motion, making it so that a fall turns into a slide, a punch becomes a strike ten times stronger."
"He could be standing still, and then, in an instant, launch himself across a room like a bullet. But it goes further than that. If he touches something, he can shift it's momentum too. A falling object can suddenly stop mid-air. If he really wanted, he could take all the force in his own body and transfer it into something else, like a pebble thrown with the force of a bomb."
Destro leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "A versatile quirk," he mused. "Momentum itself is an invisible force, an inevitability. To wield it, to dictate it... it changes the nature of any fight he is in."
I nodded, watching him absorb the information. His fingers tapped against the desk, a thoughtful rhythm. I knew he was already envisioning the possibilities, already measuring the worth of such a quirk.
A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thank you for the information," he said, his tone even. "It's always fascinating to learn of quirks that shape the world in ways most wouldn't consider."
I gave him a small nod, offering nothing more. Destro reclined in his chair, swirling the liquor in his glass. The clinked softly against the sides, the only sound in the room for a long moment. Then his gaze settled back on me, sharper now, more deliberate.
"Before we continue," he began, voice measured, "I want to ask you something. Proxy is dead. Your deal with us was contingent on his capture or his death. Now that it's over, do you intend to keep working with the Meta Liberation Army?"
I didn't react outwardly, but the weight of his question settled in my chest. The way he phrased it—like I had a choice. I doubted Destro would simply let me walk out the door because I decided I was done. That wasn't how men like him operated. In some regards he was quite a lot like Overhaul.
Internally, my thoughts shifted to Hawks, he had jumped on to the hero scene seemingly out of nowhere and was one of if not the youngest to be in the top ten at his age. Most people, me included, have come to the conclusion that he had received some special training from the hero commission, this was only confirmed by Nagant when I asked her.
I had already passed information along about my current position, about the things I had uncovered. The League of Villains and the MLA were planning an attack on Hero's Eve. With that already sent I predict that within two days they will try reaching out to me, I just needed to be in a position where they could find me.
But beyond that, I thought of something else.
Overhaul's group had been a test run. A group rooted in control and order, fractured from the inside by me, because I seen it's weakness behind the evil veil. The MLA, though they were different. Much larger. More deeply embedded. Taking them down would be harder if I wanted a slow approach, but I could always just stomp the head.
With Re-Destro dying that would lead all the legs of the spider scurrying around not knowing what to do. But if I did that, then I would have to go for many of the leaders too, there are many capable to keep the organization steady.
I met Destro's gaze, my expression neutral. "You still haven't given me a reason to stay," I said, watching Destro's expression carefully. "Proxy is dead. My part in all of this was supposed to end there."
Destro tilted his head, studying me. "And yet, you haven't walked away when you certainly could have."
"Maybe I just wanted to hear an offer." I replied.
A chuckle rumbled from his throat. "Kobe, you're not the type to sit around waiting for an offer unless you've already made your decision." He swirled the glass in his hand, the amber liquid catching the light. "You want to see this through."
I let the silence stretch before giving a small shrug. "Maybe. But that still doesn't mean I'm convinced."
Destro exhaled through his nose, as if amused by the exchange. "Fine. Let me be clear, then. The MLA is bigger than any one person. If you stay, you won't be playing the role of an errand boy. You'll be leading. Making choices that shape the future . Does that sound like something you want?"
I studied him for a moment. I wasn't foolish enough to believe he'd just let me walk away. And truth be told, I didn't want to—not yet. But being in the middle of such big plans to come would probably work in my favour.
"Alright," I said, "I'll stay."
Destro's smile widened, pleased. "Then lets deepen this conversation."
He set his glass down and straightened, his tone shifting into something more official. "From this point forward, you're not just an associate—you're a leader within the MLA's structure. You're rank places you closer to our most trusted members. You'll have more autonomy, missions that you'll execute alone. And, most importantly, you'll be working closely with the League."
I didn't expect that. Ranking up, was a nice surprise, I didn't think it would go that high but I was fine with that. But working closely with the League, I didn't know how I felt about that, I didn't really want the chance to be so close to Daiki anymore.
And unlike the people of the MLA, the League are actual villains. I would describe many members of the MLA as somewhat in the gray area when it came to crimes and acts of goodness. The League didn't seem to have any of that.
"I'll be working with the League?"
"That surprises you?" Destro's smirk didn't fade. "You should've seen it coming. You have a mind for strategy where many of them do not, for dismantling organizations from within. You did it with Overhaul. You have great worth."
I processed that. And I was figuring out what he was saying. Now that I really have no reason to stick with the MLA, he thinks that what I had done with the eight precepts is what I'll do with the MLA, that was the plan but I kind of believed he was just someone an ego driven leader like Overhaul and many more people in power.
So him placing me closer to the League has more than one purpose from what I can tell. The League, or more specifically, All For One came to him, not the other way round. And he wants me closer to the League so that when the whole collaboration is over I can start to dismantle the League like I had done Overhaul's crew.
And if I were to fail, they would kill me or deal with me in their own way while he would wipe his hands of me without ever touching the MLA in a negative way.
'This bastard is much smarter than Overhaul.'
"So what exactly are these future plans?" I asked.
Destro leaned forward slightly. "We are attacking Hero's Eve. An attack that will shake society to it's core. A rift that will allow us to take the forefront." He gestured subtly. "With the Ministry of Justice's head dead, Koku Hanabata, one of our own, is in position, we have the opportunity to claim our place in this world. To take more power."
I nodded slowly, keeping my thoughts guarded. This was a big power move, something that would then lead to a complete restructuring of society. He has incredibly big plans. He's happily putting me in the middle of two organizations, something Overhaul wouldn't be willing to do.
More specifically, he wants to keep me at an arms far but close enough to pull back when necessary.
I should be alarmed, maybe feel stressed out for what's to come. But bubbling inside me is a strange feeling of excitement.
***The hospital room was sterile. Quiet murmurs of hospital staff was just beyond the door, all of them were hired privately by the principal of UA, Nezu as well as the hero Recovery Girl. All Might was seated against a propped pillow, his gaunt frame barely filling out the hospital gown draped over him. His breathing was steady, but the weight in his eyes betrayed the battle within his soul.
Before him stood a cluster of UA faculty—Aizawa, Recovery Girl, and Nezu—Detective Tsukauchi was also there. Their faces, some masked in exhaustion, others in muted sorrow, only added to the suffocating atmosphere. No one spoke immediately, as if dreading the moment he would ask the question that hung in the air.
"Bakugou..." The name escaped in a whisper, barely holding onto the strength it had carried.
Aizawa's expression darkened. "The League has him. They were able to create clones to distract most of us heroes on the scene and the only ones near were Vlad King."
All Might clenched his fists, the remnants of his former strength barely registering in his weakened body. He shut his eyes, a tremor running through him. "I wasn't there. I should have been there. I failed him. I failed all of them."
Memories of the plane falling on UA flashed through his mind, he was struck thinking of the League using that time of misery to sneak in and take one of his students. While he was out struggling against a villain that still shook his soul with terror a student was taken and now he can't even imagine what is happening to him.
"Blame will not change the past, All Might. Besides you were one of the only heroes capable of fighting Proxy, and look how damaged you came back to
us." Nezu stepped up and told him.
All Might shook his head, his mind refusing to latch on to logic. "And Midoriya? How is he?" His eyes searched the room, he doesn't want to admit it but he certainly has a bias, but how could he not, the boy not only holds his power, but he has been guiding him since he was on the cusp of his teens.
Recovery Girl sighed, her aged but kind face betraying her concern. "He was hurt, but when we were all transported to the game all his injuries started to disappear, like we were all given a reset. He's alright now."
All Might exhaled heavily, a fragile relief settling in his chest. "At least he's safe."
The relief was short-lived. He remembered the news, students from UA had died. None from the hero course, two from the business course and one each from the support course and the general education course. The school had shut down and there were complaints.
There were calls for the school to be shut down permanently since it seems to be the target of major villain attacks. There wasn't a lack of reasoning.
Many of the top ten heroes came from that school, organized crime just hadn't ever thought to nip the progress of heroes so early on like that back then. Add on the fact that a lot of these villains have a strong hate for All Might, not even a third of the villains he has locked up in countless prisons like Tartarus and more have been reclaimed.
And he only has so much time left.
His fingers tightened around the hospital blanket as the news settled in, pressing against his chest like an iron weight. He felt as though the olden days where a heavy darkness loomed over all was coming back, not slowly either, with a big bang.
After all that work he put in. All Might. The number 1 hero. The symbol of piece.
He wanted to be a hero so that he can bring peace, to stop the dark ages. And he did that, he succeeded in his goal and was just about to end his career with a successor he has so much faith in. And now, just at the end of his career everything is falling back to how it started.
'No!'
He won't allow it. He will do all he can to make sure that does not happen, even if he can no longer see the future he envisions Midoriya having.
He is still the Symbol of Peace. And there is much work to be done.
Starting with finding Bakugou.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The room was too loud, too bright. Too Much.
Katsuki Bakugou sat stiffly on a plush velvet couch, his small hands gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. The scent of perfume, colognes, and the sweet scent of champagne wafted in the year. Laughter bubbled up around him, sharp and grating, like nails dragging across a chalkboard. He hated it. Hated the way the adults loomed around him, their voices booming, their smiles too wide, too fake.
"Oh Katsuki! Look at you, so grown up!" A woman with too much makeup crouched in front of him, her red lips stretching into a grin that didn't reach her eyes. She smelled like flowers and something sour, and Katsuki recoiled, his scowl deepening.
"What's the matter sweetie? Not enjoying the party?" she cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek.
He jerked his head away, his teeth gritted. "Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice low but sharp, like the crack of a whip.
The woman blinked, her smile faltering for a moment before she let out a forced laugh. "Oh my! Such a fiery little boy! Just like your mother!"
Katsuki didn't respond. He didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone.
The party was his mother's idea. Mitsuki Bakugou, the CEO of a thriving fashion agency, had decided to combine her annual company gala with her son's birthday celebration "Kill two birds with one stone," she'd said, her tone brisk and practical. Katsuki had protested, of course. He didn't want a party. He didn't want to be surrounded by strangers who talked down to him like he was some kind of pet, he didn't want to be around anyone. But his mother had brushed him off... as usual.
"Stop being dramatic brat!" She'd said, rolling her eyes. "It's just a party. You'll survive."
But he wasn't surviving. He's drowning.
The room felt like it was closing in on him, the walls pressing closer with every passing second. The laughter, the chatter, the clinking of glasses—it all blended into a cacophony that made his head pound. His chest tightened, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He wanted to get out.
He slid off the couch, his small frame weaving through the forest of legs and skirts. He ignored the voices calling after him, the hands reaching out to ruffle his hair or pat his back. He didn't care. He just needed to find a corner, a quiet place where he could breath.
Finally, he spotted a narrow alcove near the staircase, partially hidden by a large potted plant. He ducked behind it, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down to the floor. The coolness of the marble seeped through his clothes, grounding him slightly. He pulled his knees to his chest, his arms wrapping around them tightly.
For a moment, it was almost peaceful. The noise was muffled here, the light dimmer. He closed his eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. But the peace didn't last.
"Katsuki! There you are!"
His eyes snapped open, he saw the face of another one of his mother's employees—a man with slicked-back hair and a too-loud voice—approaching him. Katsuki's stomach churned. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to be seen.
"What are you doing hiding back here, huh?" the man asked, his tone jovial but condescending. "Come on, your mother's looking for you. It's still your birthday, after all."
Katsuki shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. "Go away," he muttered, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.
The man laughed, clearly not taking him seriously. "Aw, come on, don't be like that! You're the star of the show tonight!"
"I said GO AWAY!" Katsuki shouted, his voice cracking with the force of his emotions.
The man blinked, taken aback, but before he could respond, Katsuki was on his feet. He shoved past him, his small body trembling with rage and panic. He didn't know where he was going. He just needed to get away.
His vision blurred as he stumbled through the crowd, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He bumped into someone, their drink sloshing over the rim of their glass, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
And then it happened.
His foot caught on the edge of a rug, and he stumbled forward, his hands flailing out to catch himself. But instead of steadying him, his fingers brushed against something cold and smooth—a glass vase perched precariously on a stool.
Time seemed to slow as the vase tipped, teetering for a moment before crashing on to the floor. The sound was deafening, a sharp shatter that cut through the noise of the party like a knife.
Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. Katsuki froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the shards of glass scattered across the floor.
And then the whispers started.
"Oh my God, is he okay?"
"What a mess!"
"Did you see that? He just knocked it over!"
Katsuki's breath hitched, his chest tightening until it felt like he couldn't breathe at all. His vision swarm, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He didn't mean to. He didn't mean to.
"Katsuki!"
His mother's voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. He turned to see her striding toward him, her heels clicking against the floor. Her face was a mask of anger, but there was something else in her eyes, something that made his stomach twist.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet. "Do you have any idea how expensive that vase was?"
Katsuki flinched, his small body trembling. "I-I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't mean to?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "You're always so damn reckless! Can't you just behave for once?"
Her words hit him like a physical blow, and something inside him snapped.
"I didn't want to be here in the first place!" he screamed, his voice now raw and desperate. "I never wanted this stupid party! You never listen to me!"
Mitsuki's eyes widened, her grip on his arm tightening. For a moment, she looked almost stunned. But then her expression hardened, and she yanked him toward the staircase.
"That's it," she said, her tone cold. "You're done."
She dragged him up the stairs, ignoring his protests, and shoved him into a small room.
"Stay here," she ordered, her voice firm. "I'll come get you when the party's over. And don't you dare make a sound."
The door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place.
Katsuki stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with unshed tears. And then, slowly, he sank to the floor, his small body curling in on itself.
The room was quiet. But he didn't mind. He liked it. He was finally on his own.
***
(Present Time)
The room was dark, damp, and reeked of mildew and blood. The only light came from a small lamp in the corner of the room. Bakugou Katsuki hung from the ceiling, his arms bound tightly by thick, coarse ropes that dug into his wrists. His body was a canvas of bruises and cuts and dried blood. His head hung low, his spiky blonde hair matted with sweat and grime.
Muscular stood in front of him, his massive frame towering over the bound teenager. His muscles bulged grotesquely, veins pulsing with raw power as he cracked his knuckles. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he reared back and delivered another brutal punch to Bakugou's ribs.
The impact echoed through the room, the sound of flesh meeting flesh followed by a sharp gasp from Bakugou. But the gasp quickly turned into a raspy, mocking laugh. Bakugou lifted his head, his lips curling into a bloody smirk.
"That all you got, you overgrown meatball?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from dehydration. "Your punches have gotten weaker. I've had worse from my mom."
Muscular's grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He stepped back, his fists clenching as he glared at the defiant teenager. "You've got a big mouth for someone who's tied up and bleeding." he growled. "Let's see how long you can keep it up."
He swung again, this time aiming for Bakugou's face. The punch connected with a sickening crunch, snapping Bakugou's head to the side. Blood sprayed from his split lip, splattering across the floor. But Bakugou just laughed again, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
"Still weak," he sneered, his voice trembling but laced with venom. "You hit like a damn toddler. What's the matter? Can't handle a kid who's tied up? Pathetic."
Muscular's eye twitched, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed Bakugou by the collar of his ruined uniform, lifting him slightly off the ground. "You're gonna regret running that mouth brat," he snarled, his breath hot and rancid. "I'm gonna break you, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but a bloody stain on the floor."
Bakugou smirked didn't waiver. "Do your worst, you coward," he spat. "I'm not scared of you!"
Before Muscular could give his response with his fists, the door cracked open, and a new figure stepped into the room. Shigaraki Tomura, his pale dishevelled hair and his red eyes gleaming with a mix of boredom and malice, entered with his hands in his pockets. Behind him was someone Bakugou recognized from the description Midoriya gave the police.
A lean sharp figure wearing dark clothing with green accents on them. Cipher. He came in with a knowing smirk.
"Enough Muscular," Shigaraki said, his voice low and raspy. "You're wasting your energy. He's not going to break that easily."
Muscular glared at Shigaraki but reluctantly released Bakugou, letting him swing back in his restraints "Tch. Whatever. This brats not worth my time anyway."
Shigaraki stepped closer to Bakugou, his red eyes narrowing as he studied the battered teenager. Bakugou met his gaze head-on, his own eyes blazing with defiance despite his condition.
"You're a tough one, I'll give you that," Shigaraki said, his tone almost conventional. "Most people would've cracked by now. But you... you're different."
Bakugou didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he glared at Shigaraki. The villain sighed, scratching at his neck absently as he began to pace around the room.
"You know what's so dull about this society?" Shigaraki began, his voice took a lecturing tone. "It's their love and worship for heroes like they are their God. Like they can do no wrong. But the moment a hero makes a mistake, the moment they show a bit of weakness, society turns on them. They tear them down, rip them apart, and toss them aside like garbage."
He stopped pacing, turning to face Bakugou with a twisted smile. "And then there's people like us. Villains. Society hates us, fears us, but they can't ignore us. They call us monsters, criminals, but they don't understand. We're not the ones who built this broken system. We're just the ones that refuse to play by its rules."
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, his breathing ragged as he listened.
"Take Stain for example," Shigaraki continued, his tone almost nostalgic. "He saw the corruption in the hero system, the hypocrisy. He wanted to purge it, to create a world where only the 'true' heroes could exist. And what did society do? They labeled him a madman for exposing the trash abusing the system. They're happy with some dying, villains, but when it's who they view as they're saviours they will give boundless chances. They ignore truth. They just wanted to keep their precious heroes on their pedestals."
He stepped closer to Bakugou, his red eyes boring into the teenagers. "And then there's Soryu. Who know's what his goal is. But ever since the Hosu games and some people seen him killing that big shark, he's been gaining a small niche fanbase as well, bigger than Stain, probably 'cause of the flair."
Bakugou finally spoke, his voice low and dripping with contempt. "You think you're some kind of revolutionary? You're just a bunch of thugs with no purpose. You don't care about changing society. You just want to watch it all burn."
Shigaraki's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we do want to watch it burn. But isn't that better than pretending everything's fine? Than playing along with their little game?"
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Which brings me to you, Bakugou Katsuki. You've got potential. Real potential. You're strong, determined, and you don't take crap from anyone. You could be something great. Something more than just another cog in their broken machine."
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching despite the ropes binding him. "What the hell are you getting at?"
Shigaraki straightened, his expression serious. "I'm going to ask you this once. Join the League of Villains. Help us tear down this rotten society and build something new. Something better."
For a moment, the room was silent. Then Bakugou laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that echoed off the walls. He lifted his head, his eyes blazing with fury, and spat a mouthful of blood directly into Shigaraki's face.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the other villain, Cipher, place a gloved hand over his mouth hiding a deadly smirk.
"Go to hell," he snarled. "I'm not joining your freak show. I'm going to be a hero. The number one hero. And I'm going to take down scum like you."
Shigaraki's expression darkened, his hand twitching as he wiped the blood from his face. He stared at Bakugou for a long moment, his red eyes unreadable. Then, without warning, he lashed out, his fist connecting with Bakugou's jaw with a sickening crunch.
Bakugou's head snapped to the side, but he didn't make a sound. Shigaraki hit him again, and again, each blow more powerful than the last, the temptation to use his quirk to obliterate the boy was there but he held back just enough.
Finally, he grabbed a chair nearby and swung it with all his strength, the wood splintering as it connected with Bakugou's head.
The teenager's body went limp, his head lolling forward as he lost consciousness. Shigaraki dropped the broken, his chest heaving as he stared at the unconscious form of Bakugou.
"Toga," he said, his voice cold and detached. "Do as you please with him. Just make sure he's still breathing when you're done."
Toga's face lit up with glee as she stepped forward, her knife glinting in the dim light. "Finally!" she squealed, her voice dripping with excitement. "I've been waiting for this!"
Shigaraki turned and walked out of the room, Cipher following behind him. The door creaked shut, leaving Bakugou alone with Toga and the flickering light.
***The truck rumbled with a kick beneath my feet, the vibrations of the 18-wheeler's engine reverberating through the metal floor. I stood in the back, surrounded by rows of glass containers, each one hosting a Nomu. The dim, flickering lights overhead cast eerie shadows on their grotesque forms—hulking bodies, some had exposed brains, and eyes that stared blankly into nothingness.
It was like being trapped in a nightmare zoo, and I was the unwilling zookeeper.
I walked slowly between the cylinder containers, my hands in my pockets trying to look casual. My eyes scanned the Nomu. Overhaul dabbled in this madness, hadn't he? I remembered reading about the Nomu that attacked UA at the start of the school year. The news had been big, of course, it was the first big successful attack on the school.
I hadn't actually really seen these things up close before. There were so many. And this was just in one truck. Destro had mentioned that he had been aiding the league in other transports, other locations. How many Nomu were there? How many were being moved right now, under the radar while the world went about it's business? The thought made my stomach churn.
I glanced up at the cameras mounted in the corners of the truck. Their red lights blinked steadily, watching, recording. I couldn't afford to slip up. Not here. Not now.
"Hey Soryu!" Twice's voice cut through the silence, loud and grating. I turned to see him leaning against one of the containers, his mask slightly askew. "You're awfully quiet back here. What's up? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just too cool? Or are you just too cool to talk to me?"
I forced a smirk, shoving down the irritation building up in my chest. "Just admiring the scenery," I said, gesturing to the Nomu. "You ever stop to think about how weird these things are? Like, who looks at a person and goes, 'You know what this guy needs? A beak and an extra set of arms.'"
Twice laughed, a sharp, erratic sound. "Yeah, they're freaky as hell! But hey, they get the job done, right? Plus, they don't talk back... Oh wait they dooo!"
I rolled my eyes, playing along. I chuckled, "So, what's the deal with these things anyway? We just driving them to some secret lair, or is there a bigger plan?"
Twice shrugged, his posture relaxed. "Beats me. I just do what I'm told. Shiggy handles the big stuff. Me? I'm just here for the ride. And the chaos. And the—"
"Got it," I interrupted, holding up a hand. "You're here for everything."
I honestly didn't think that Shigaraki would be giving orders for the moving around of Nomu, maybe the rest of the League members don't know that All For One is the actual leader.
Well, he's kept himself hidden for quite a long time anyway so it wouldn't be surprising.
"Exactly," Twice said, pointing at me like I'd just solved a complex equation. "You get it, Soryu. You really get me."
I smirked, but my mind was racing. Twice was a chatterbox, a fool, an idiot, a dunce. If I played it right, I could get whatever information I wanted out of him. I just had to keep him talking.
"So," I said casually. "what's the League been up to lately? The day of reckoning is almost here, less than a month."
And it had nearly been two weeks since getting out of the crazed mind of Daigo Kiyoshi.
Twice tilted his head, his mask shifting slightly. "You have no idea! We've been so busy, let me tell you. Like, did you know that we grabbed a kid from UA? Bakugou Katsuki? A total firecracker, that one."
That shook me a little. Bakugou? Kidnapped? There hadn't been any news about a missing student from UA. UA must be keeping it quiet. That's bad. So much is going on, and there actually may not be enough help.
I forced a laugh, shaking my head. "Bakugou huh? He supposed to be a new recruit?"
Twice shrugged again. "Yeah, but I don't think that's gonna happen. But Toga's got a crush on him. Well, she's got a crush on a lot of people. But Bakugou is on her UA list."
I raised my eyebrows, feigning amusement. "Explosive types?"
"Oh you have no idea," Twice said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "She's got a thing for that green-haired kid too. What's his name? Midoriya? Yeah, him. And don't even get me started on that pink hero beside him, Ochaco. It's kinda creepy but also kind of cute. I don't know."
I chuckled, but my mind went to a dark place. It was disgusting, but wouldn't many expect it coming from a villain of any kind. And there has been no word or anything about Bakugou's whereabouts for any of them to find.
How many days has it been?
Doesn't matter, since I'm working with the heroes and can do more where they cannot... I'll plant a tracker on Twice.
I pushed off the container, stretching lazily. "Man, this ride's taking forever. How much longer until we get there?"
Twice checked an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Eh, who knows? Spinner's driving, so we'll get there when we get there. Or maybe we won't! Who can say?"
I groaned, playing up the annoyance. "Great. Just great. I'm gonna go crazy back here. Hey, you got anything to pass the time? Cards? Dice? A spare personality to argue with?"
Twice laughed, slapping his knee. "You're funny Soryu. But nah, no cards. Just my charming company."
I smirked, stepping closer to him. "Lucky me. Hey, you got something on your costume." I reached out brushing his shoulder like I was dusting something off. As he looked over I had already placed two pieces of paper on him, in two different locations. "There. Got it."
I only meant to place one on him but a tugging sensation pulled at the tips of my fingers to create another where he had created a blind spot.
Twice looked down, confused. "Huh? What was it?"
"Just some lint—" Just as I replied I seen the first piece of paper I placed on his shoulder to blend in with the white of his costume had started floating away and... it burned.
The smell of char instantly invaded my nose and it was so distinct it made me dizzy. Then a low cackle was heard accompanying loud aggressive footsteps.
And then, the voice came.
"That was a nice nap."
It was a voice of a cockiness, a confidence that was very similar to Bakugou's back when he first got his quirk. But this was more dangerous.
"Dabi!" Twice yelled in a celebratory tone. "I didn't even know you were in this truck."
Neither did I. It was just Nomu, I checked every clear container. I turned around to get a look of the stranger that Twice called Dabi.
"I wanted to surprise you with my new look now that the Doctor's finished toying with me."
The man stunk like he was constantly burning, but he did say he just woke up, maybe it's a side-effect of his quirk. He was tall, and had dark black hair and deep turquoise eyes. I guessed that he would be in his early twenties.
The most striking features on the guy though was most certainly the patches of gnarled, wrinkled, purple skin that covered much of his lower face and neck all the way down to his collarbone.
"Also I was just making sure to watch the new guy." Smoke rose from him like a recently burnt out candle.
So his quirk is fire related, and he just burned that piece of paper I had on Twice. I looked behind him to see a broken container, but it wasn't broken like smashed glass. It was more like it was melted through but the full effects were only showing itself now with the toxic smell in the room.
The person in front of me was strong. It would be fine as long as he doesn't notice the other piece of paper that I had placed on Twice.
But if we were to get in a fight I wondered if I would win. The man's presence somewhat reminded me of Abyss, which would be bad if he was actually as strong as him, 'cause fire was always a greater weakness for me than water.
He stretched out his hand towards me for a shake.
"In case you didn't hear the dummy over there. I go by Dabi."
I stared at it for a moment longer before I took his hand and shook it also.
"Soryu."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The room was a tomb of shadows, it's walls slick with dampness that glistened faintly under the flickering glow of a single, dying light bulb. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the cloying of sweetness of cheap perfume, a nauseating combination that clung to the back of the throat.
The floor was cold and concrete, cracked and stained with dark patches that could have been rust or something far worse. In the corner, a rusted drain sat half-clogged with clumps of matted hair and other unidentifiable debris, the remnants whatever horrors had taken place here before.
At the center of the room, beneath the swaying light bulb, was Bakugou Katsuki. He hung limp from the ceiling, his wrists bound again by rope that rubbed his skin raw. His body stripped down to his underwear, his once-proud frame now a canvas of brutality. Bruises mottled his skin in shades of purple and black, some fresh, other's fading into sickly yellows.
Cuts crisscrossed his chest and arms, shallow but deliberate, as if each one had been carved with a surgeon's precision. His head hung low, his spiky blonde hair matted with sweat and blood, his face pale and gaunt from exhaustion and blood loss.
But the most disturbing details were the marks left by Toga Himiko. Across his arms, his torso and even his thighs, were lipstick kiss imprints—bright, garish red against his fair skin. They were everywhere, as if she had marked him as her own, a twisted claim staked in the most intimate way possible.
On his stomach, just above the waistband of his underwear, her name had been carved into his flesh:
TOGA. The letters were jagged, uneven, as if she had taken her time, savouring every cut. Blood had dried around the edges, forming a dark, crusted boarder. Beside him, on a rickety metal table, sat a glass jar filled with a deep, crimson liquid—a litre of Bakugou's own blood, carefully collected and stored. The jar glinted in the dim light, a macabre trophy that Toga had earned. Next to it, lay a digital camera, it's screen still glowing faintly with the last image it had captured.
Toga stood over Bakugou, her golden eyes wide and gleaming with manic delight. She twirled a bloodied knife between her fingers, the blade catching the light as she hummed a cheerful tune. Her lips were smeared with lipstick, the same shade of red as the kiss marks on Bakugou's skin. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in short, excited gasps as she admired her handiwork. "Oh Katsuki" she cooed, her voice singsong and dripping with faux affection. "You're so much fun when you're quiet. But don't worry, I'll wake you up soon. We're not done playing yet!" She reached out, tracing a finger along one of the cuts on his chest.
He flinched and let out a low growl, his eyes remained closed. Toga giggled, a high-pitched, almost childlike sound that echoed across the walls of the room. "You're so strong," she murmured, her pitch almost dropping to a whisper. "Even now, you're still fighting. That's so... inspiring." She picked up the camera, scrolling through the photos she had taken.Each one was a snapshot of Bakugou, from when she had got him from Shigaraki until now. She had set it up to snap automatically, she didn't want to make a video, that could get lost easily, and she didn't know how to use one of those cameras.
She wanted to use this one as she liked how the pictures would just fall from the cameras, it reminded her of old movies that she used to watch with her parents. She caught a picture of Bakugou's eyes wide in fear for the first time since he arrived, another of him trying to fight her off even though he was heavily sedated, of her draining him of his blood. And many more.
She sighed dreamily, pressing a hand to her chest. "You're so beautiful like this," she said, emotion shivered through her voice like a leaf. "I wish you could see yourself. You'd understand." She set down the camera and picked up a vial of blood from the table.
Holding it up to the light, she swirled it gently, watching the liquid catch the glow of the bulb. "Your blood is special," she said, her tone reverent. "It's so... alive. It's perfect. Not like other people's blood. It's special." She uncorked the vial and brought it to her lips, taking a small sip. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out a soft moan of pleasure. "Mmm... just as good as I thought," she said licking her lips. "I could drink you forever."
'Oh yeah,' she thought back to the camera. It looked like a standard digital camera, and it acted as one. But Giran told her that she could switch it's functions to video, and Magne shown her how to. She quickly did that and positioned herself next to Bakugou who barely looked alive, her face only inches away from his as she pressed record.
"Hi Katsuki!" she said, waving at the camera with a grin. "It's me, Toga! I just wanted to show you what we've been up to. Look at you! You're so handsome, even when you're all beat up. And look—I wrote my name on you! Isn't it romantic?" She panned the camera down to his stomach, zooming in on the carved letters. "See? now everyone will know you're mine. Forever and ever!" She giggled, the sound high and deranged, before pointing the camera back to herself. "Oh and I almost forgot! I made a little souvenir for us. Look!" She held up another jar of blood, shaking it gently so the liquid sloshed against the glass. "Isn't it pretty? I'm going to keep it forever. Maybe I'll only drink it during special occasions. Like our anniversary."
She laughed again, the sound echoing off the walls, before ending the recording. She set down the camera down and leaned closer to Bakugou, her breath hot against his ear. "Don't worry Katsuki," she whispered. "This is just the beginning. This will be so much fun together.
Before she could continue, a voice called out from the hallway, sharp and impatient. "Toga! Shigaraki says to leave the brat alone." Toga pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a mock display of disappointment. "Aww, already?" She sighed dramatically.
Then she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Bakugou's cheek. The lipstick left a bright red mark, a final brand of her twisted affection. "Don't go anywhere, Katsuki," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I'll be back soon. And next time... we'll have even more fun." With that, she skipped out of the room, her humming fading into the distance. The door creaked shut behind her, leaving Bakugou alone in the silence.
He couldn't speak, his throat was dry and hoarse. But he wanted to speak, he wanted to acknowledge that he could still do that much, even if only to say, he doesn't like the silence he has been getting anymore.
It's dreadful.
He closes his eyes shut again.
***The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over Deika City as I soared through the air, my paper wings catching the last golden rays of daylight. The wind whipped past me, sharp and cold but I barely felt it. My mind was elsewhere, replaying the encounter with Dabi over and over again.
That man—if he could be called that—was dangerous. More dangerous than I initially thought. The way he emerged from the Nomu container, his body radiating an oppressive energy that made the air around him feel heavy, like the calm before the storm.
And his quirk... fire. I wonder what he could really do without holding back.
I frowned, my wings adjusting slightly as I blanked over a cluster of buildings. The League was bad enough on it's own, but with someone like Dabi in the mix, and then Daiki and Saya, which Daiki confirmed, if those were just a few of the core members of the League, then they were on a whole other level. Maybe they could take on the MLA.
The MLA just had numbers and a message that many would get behind more so than the League wanting society to burn. The MLA has the resources and fanatical devotion to Destro's ideology. Taking them both down? That was a suicide mission. Even for me. No, I needed to focus on one.
The heroes would already be on the League's case more so since they have outwardly messed with so many heroes lives as well as hero students. So they could wait. In the end I want to see Destro's army fall.
A stretched out my hand and a piece of paper formed into a small square. With a flick of my wrist, it expanded, forming a miniature map of Japan. The paper shimmered faintly, a tiny paper form that shaped into the figure of Twice appeared in a corner—the tracker I placed on Twice. I studied the location, furrowing my brow. He was somewhere in Kyushu, near Fukuoka. Not close but not far either.
I thought of sending a paper bird to the Commission's office in Tokyo but it wouldn't get that far. And obviously I couldn't risk electric communication—too easy for Skeptic to trace.
For the freedom that Destro gives me that allows me to glide into the air and be on my own, I have noticed more people in the city that have flight capabilities like I do arriving not too long after I do, whenever he hasn't sent me on a mission.
As the paper folded back into nothingness, I noticed that movement. At least it was someone I knew, it was Miku. Her stingray-like wings glided effortlessly through the air, her body streamlined and graceful. Cold, but less cruel than when I first met her. She has a sharp mind. She approached me in a calm and casual demeanour.
"Kobe," she said, her voice cool but not unfriendly. "I've been looking for you."
"Miku," I replied, nodding slightly as I adjusted my wings to match her pace. "What's up?"
She tilted her head, her dark eyes studying me. "Just making sure you're not getting lost. You've been spending a lot of time on your own lately."
I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. "Just like being up in the air."
She didn't respond immediately, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before she looked away. "Fair enough. But from afar, you looked... preoccupied."
Her eyes were better than normal. Probably because of her mutant like features, or maybe it was some other type of senses that stingray may have.
I raised my eyebrows, feigning ignorance. "Preoccupied? What makes you say that?"
She gave me a sidelong glance, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Call it a hunch. You've got that look in your eye, like you're planning something."
I hesitated. Miku wasn't stupid, and even though I am a good liar, she would figure me out and become extremely suspicious of me again. "Yeah." I admitted after a moment. "I've been thinking about the League. I don't trust them, they're too wild. And I met one recently that just seemed to embody all of that... Dabi."
Her expression shifted slightly, a flicker of interest in her eyes. "Dabi? I've heard of him. He's been part of a few small time crews but ends up killing them and leaving."
I frowned, I knew he was dangerous, but that sounded more like something Abyss would do, or that man Muscular. But I guess there are just a bunch of mad men within the League. They wouldn't mesh well with the MLA, their ruthlessness was just something that they needed right now.
"I think he somehow became a Nomu, or just has parts of one infused in him."
Miku's wings dipped slightly as she processed the information. "A Nomu? That's a claim? Do you have proof?"
"Other than what I saw last night. But it doesn't matter. I'd rather keep my distance until it's time to strike. His quirk is like a direct counter to mine."
She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "Fair enough. Be careful, Kobe." That was a surprise, a welcome one.
We flew in silence for a while, the city stretching out below us like a patchwork quilt. The streets were quiet, the usual hustle and bustle muted by the approaching evening. It was almost peaceful, in a way. But I knew better. Peace was an illusion... one that should be enjoyed when you can.
"So," Miku said after a while, breaking the silence. "Now that you're officially part of the MLA, what's next for you?"
I glanced at her, trying to gauge her tone. She sounded casual, but there was an edge to her voice, like she was testing me. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged, her wings rippling slightly as she adjusted her course. "I mean, you've got a lot of potential, Kobe. Destro see's it, and so do I. But potential only gets you so far. What are you planning to do with it?"
I didn't answer her right away. And I didn't really know. What am I to do with my potential? I was supposed to become a hero, but that wasn't really my dream. It was just a position I was in. Why do most people want to be heroes? Nah that wasn't the question to ask?
Most people now do so for the benefit of being one in this society. So maybe I should think of why certain people in my life wanted to be heroes. Like Midoriya, Bakugou and my sister, Yuki.
Midoriya, even when younger, was the one with the brightest heroic spirit, that was a way I could describe it anyway. He would always try to step up for people even when he couldn't for himself and no one would reciprocate.
Bakugou, he had an obsession with being number 1, he acted like a dick but there was some good in him, it could just be hard to find. But whenever he spoke on heroes he always did mention the one's that looked like they were putting in more of an effort to being a true hero. It would always round back to All Might though.
And Yuki, honestly, I don't really know why she thought of being a hero. I just noticed her attitude shift after out dad died. She acted cold but she did seem to enjoy helping people. She experimented with her quirk a lot, and was always told that she had the potential to be a hero.
Was that it? Her potential. Did she even want to be a hero?
From my periphery I noticed Miku was still staring straight at me, waiting for an answer.
Well, for the other two, the core of their reasoning was making a change. Helping people or changing the system to have all eyes on another.
A core that was similar to almost every organization. One found in the MLA as well, one I can use for an answer that should have been simple. Right?
"I know one thing for sure," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "I'm not here to play second fiddle. If I'm going to be a part of this, I want to make a real impact. A better tomorrow."
She nodded, her expression unreadable. "That's good to hear. We have a lot of work to do, especially with Hero's Eve coming up. 'A better tomorrow.' I like the thought of that."
She smiled. A real and genuine smile. It was melancholic and the light from the sunset made it shine in a different light that showed off a more nostalgic and sad tone to her face. She was holding in sadness.
I never thought before, she has a past just as I have one. A bad one, but I don't know anything about hers. I just know what I know of her from when meeting.
A mutant in this world will always walk on a bumpier path than they should.
***The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft tapping of Nezu's claws against the keyboard of his laptop. The glow of the screen illuminated his small frame, casting long shadows across the sterile walls. His usual cheerful demeanour was absent, replaced by a grim focus as he replied to emails—parents demanding answers, reporters seeking statements, government officials pressing for updates. Each message was a reminder of the chaos that had engulfed UA, a chaos he had been unable to prevent.
He really should have just left this to someone else in the necessary department.
He paused, his paw hovering over the mousepad as a new email notification popped up. The sender's address was a jumble of random characters, and the subject line was blank. Suspicious. Nezu's sharp eyes narrowed, his mind already racing through the possibilities. A prank? A threat? Or something worse? He hesitated for a moment, then opened a separate program, running the email through a series of encrypted filters to ensure it was safe. Once satisfied, he clicked to open it.
The screen filled with images, and Nezu's breath caught in his throat.
The first photo showed Bakugou Katsuki, bound and battered, his body a canvas of bruises and cuts. Bright red lipstick marks covered his skin, grotesque and mocking. The second image zoomed in on his stomach, where the name
TOGA had been carved into his flesh, the letters jagged and raw. The third was a close-up of his face, pale and gaunt, his eyes closed but his expression twisted in pain. And the final image was a jar of blood, labelled with a crude tag that read, "A gift from Katsuki."
Below the images was a message, written in bold, mocking text:
---------------------
"To the so-called 'heroes' of UA.
How does it feel to fail so spectacularly? Your precious student, your 'future hero,' is ours now. We've marked him, broken him, and made him ours in ways you can't even imagine. And there's nothing you can do about it.
You heroes love to preach about justice and safety, but where were you when we took him? Where were you when we carved our name into his skin? Where were you when we drained him of his blood, drop by drop? You weren't there. You're never there when it matters.
This is just the truth you don't want to admit: your heroes are weak. You don't dominate anymore! You're system is broken. And your students? They're just pawns in a game they can't win. Bakugou Katsuki is proof of that.
We'll be in touch. Enjoy the pictures.
—The League of Villains."
---------------------Nezu's paws trembled as he stared at the screen, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. Fear, anger, and a deep, gnawing guilt churned within him, each emotion vying for dominance. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he felt as though the walls of the room were closing in on him. The words on the screen burned into his mind, each sentence a venomous barb aimed at his heart.
"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "No, no, no..."
His mind flashed back to the series of disasters that had befallen UA. The League's breach during the beginning of the year, the chaos and fear that had gripped his students at the time that only All Might could stop. Then the multiple incidents with Proxy, where his students had been trapped in a deadly game world, their lives hanging by a thread.
And then the attack on the school itself, where three of his students had died and one staff member had died. And in that chaos one was kidnapped. Four souls that had trusted UA to keep them safe. And now this. Bakugou, one of his most promising students, kidnapped and tortured, his suffering flaunted like some sick trophy.
Nezu's paws clenched into fists, his claws digging into his palms. He had failed. Failed to protect his students, failed to anticipate the League's moves, failed to be the leader UA needed. The weight of that failure pressed down on him, crushing and inescapable.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but the images lingered in his mind, vivid and unrelenting. Bakugou's face, pale and lifeless. The lipstick marks, the carved name, the jar of blood. Each detail was a knife twisting in his chest, a reminder of his inadequacy.
"This is my fault," he murmured, his voice shaking. "All of it."
The emails words wouldn't leave his eyes, even when he closed them.
"Your heroes are weak. Your system is broken." Was it true? Had he been blind to the cracks in the foundation of hero society? Had he been so focused on maintaining the image of UA that he'd failed to see the threats growing in the shadows?
He thought of Bakugou, of his fiery spirit and unyielding determination. The boy had always been a handful, but he was a hero through and through. And now... now he was in the hands of monsters, his body and spirit broken piece by piece. Nezu's stomach churned at the thought, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm him.
But then, slowly, he straightened, his expression hardening. He couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity. Not now. Not when Bakugou's life—and the lives of all of his students—depended on him. He opened a new email, his paws moving swiftly across the keyboard.
"To the Hero Public Safety Commission," he typed, his words sharp and precise. "Urgent action is required. Attached are images and a message from the League of Villains regarding the kidnapping and torture of UA student Bakugou Katsuki. This is not just an attack on one student—it is an attack on the very foundation of hero society. Immediate intervention is necessary to locate and rescue Bakugou, as well as to dismantle the League of Villains. Failure to act will result in further loss of life and irreplaceable damage to the public trust in heroes."
He paused, his claws hovering over the keys. Then he added one final line: "This is a war. And we are losing."
As a hit send, Nezu leaned back in his chair, his small frame trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve. The League had made this personal. They had crossed a line. And now, they would learn what it meant to provoke the principal of UA.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The night was quiet that made you feel like you were the only person left in the world. The moon hung low in the sky, casting in a pale silver light over the empty streets of Deika City. I stood in the shadow of an abandoned building, it's windows shattered and it's walls covered in graffiti.
This place had become my refuge over the past few days—a spot where the MLA's cameras didn't reach, where I could think without feeling like I was being watched. It was rare to find a place like this in a city so tightly controlled, but I'd scoured every corner until I found it.
I leaned against the wall, my hands in my pockets. I was just about to zone out and rest but I noticed a new figure approaching from the other end of the street. Almost. My instincts kicked in, and I straightened, my eyes narrowing as I watched the man.
He was short, his frame hunched under a long black cloak, the hood pulled low over his face. His movements were strange—jerky and erratic, like he was trying to appear harmless but couldn't quite pull it off. My guard went up immediately. This wasn't a part of town where people just wandered around at night, especially not someone who looked like they were trying too hard to blend in.
I stayed still, watching him as he shuffled closer. He was muttering something under his breath, his head tilted slightly as if he were talking to himself. Weird. Definitely weird. I tensed, ready to move if he got too close. And then, without warning, he did.
The old man lunged at me, his speed catching me completely off guard. One moment he was shuffling awkwardly, and the next he was a blur, his small frame barrelling toward me like a bullet. I barely had time to react, throwing myself to the side as he shot past me, his hood flying back to reveal a shock of white hair. He skidded to a stop a few feet away, his back to me, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
"Not bad," the old man said, his voice raspy but full of energy. "I'd have been disappointed if you'd let an old man like me hit you."
I straightened, my heart still pounding, and turned to face him. He was grinning, his sharp eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He looked... familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. His face was lined with age, but there was a sharpness to his features, a kind of intensity that made it clear he wasn't just some random old guy.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked, my voice low and wary. My hands were still in my pockets, but I was ready to summon my paper at a moment's notice.
The old man chuckled, brushing a hand through his wild white hair. "Name's Gran Torino," he said, his tone casual, like we were just two strangers meeting on the street. "And before you ask, no, I'm not here to fight you. Well, not unless you give me a reason to."
Gran Torino. I knew him—or at least, I knew of him. He was a hero, one of the older generation, but he hadn't been active in years. At least, not that I'd heard. And yet, here he was, standing in front of me like he'd just stepped out of retirement.
"You're working with the commission." I said, more a statement than a question.
He nodded, his grin widening. "Got it in one. I'm as close to them as Hawks, for now. And before you start doubting me, let me stop you right there. You're still registered as an S-rank villain, and I know you've got every reason to be suspicious. But trust me, kid, I'm not here to screw you over."
I didn't respond immediately, my mind racing. He was right—I didn't trust him. But if he was working with the commission, and if he'd managed to find me here, then maybe he was the real deal. Still, I wasn't going to let my guard down.
"Prove it," I said, my tone flat.
Gran Torino raised an eyebrow, his grin never wavering. "Fair enough. How about I tell you: there was a special team assembled to capture you, but it's been almost completely disbanded. The commission's decided that you're more useful where you are. Happy?"
I frowned, considering his words. It made sense. The commission, like any organization would be pragmatic, and if they thought I could help them take down the MLA or the League, they'd be willing to overlook my past. For now at least.
"Alright," I said finally. "I'll play along. But if you're lying to me..."
"Yeah, yeah, you'll turn me into origami or something." The old man said, that's not even something I'm capable of, unless the person is dead. "Now, how about you tell me what you've got? I'm not here just for a friendly chat."
I hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the risk. "The League, I'll start off with someone named Dabi. Some strong fire user, and I'm pretty sure half his strength is cause they turned him into a half Nomu. I don't know how strong he was before that. I'm guessing the experiment has been going on for some time now."
Gran Torino's expression Sobered, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Dabi, huh? I'll make sure the commission knows. Anything else?"
I nodded. "Bakugou Katsuki. I've got a tracker on one of the League's members so I know a location that has been a constant where Bakugou may be. Somewhere in Kyushu, near Fukuoka. That's where most of the core members most likely are."
Gran Torino's eyes lit up at that, and he let out a low whistle. "Now that's useful. The Commission just got an email from Nezu a few hours ago about Bakugou. They've been scrambling to figure out where he is. This'll give them a starting point."
I threw him over a piece of paper which would unravel to the location. Gran Torino nodded, his expression serious.
"Don't worry, kid. We'll handle it. And you—keep doing what you're doing. Every few days, I'll be scouring the city for spots like this to find you. If you've got more intel, I'll be here."
With that, he turned and started walking away, his movements still jerky and erratic. I watched him go, my mind racing. I didn't know if I could trust him completely, but for now, he was the best chance I had. And that would be enough.
***The park was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like the world was holding it's breath. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grass painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Midoriya Izuku sat on a bench, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his head bowed. He hadn't been able to bring himself to look at the sky, not when it felt like the weight of it might crush him.
He hated this. His chest was aching, his thought's were spiralling in an endless loop of regret and self-loathing. He hated the way he couldn't stop replaying everything in his mind. He'd seen All Might diverting a plane away from the school and he thought that he could help, make a difference. But instead, he'd gotten hurt. Badly. He'd worried his classmates, his teachers, even All Might. And for what?
He hadn't saved anyone. He didn't stop anything. All he'd done, was add to the chaos.
His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He'd been so stupid. So reckless. He'd tried to take on something far beyond his capabilities, something even All Might had been struggling with. And what had it cost him? Almost everything.
If he'd died then... if he'd died, what would have happened to One For All? It would have just disappeared with him. Would All Might's legacy, his dream, have died because of his recklessness? The thought made him feel sick.
He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping. He wasn't even allowed to go far from his house now. The police were watching him, just like they were watching all the other hero students. They held more priority and an added likelihood of being attacked. It made sense, the League had made it clear they weren't above targeting kids, and after what had happened to Bakugou... Midoriya's chest tightened at the thought.
Bakugou. His 'childhood friend,' his... whatever they were now. They hadn't been close in years, not really. They'd barely been on speaking terms, and Midoriya was fine with that, he hated the way Bakugou treated him when they were younger, it made him feel so low, sometimes lesser than human.
But it didn't change the fact that Bakugou was out there somewhere, alone and in danger, and Midoriya hadn't been able to do a damn thing about it.
He hadn't even been awake when it happened. He'd been lying in a hospital bed, or a make-shift one, unconscious and useless, while Bakugou was taken. And now... now he didn't even know if Bakugou was still alive. The thought made him sick.
Bakugou was stubborn and strong-willed. There was literally no chance that he would choose villainy, no way he would give in to demands. But that also meant he would fight back. And if he fought back... Midoriya didn't want to think about what the League might do to him.
He hadn't been in the class group chat since he'd woken up. He couldn't bring himself to face them, not after everything that had happened. He didn't want to see their messages, their worries, their plans to move forward, if they weren't all feeling miserable.
He didn't feel like he deserved to be a part of that anymore. Not when he'd let them down so badly. The only thing he was grateful for was that Tokoyami had been saved. At least one good thing had come out of that nightmare.
"Young Midoriya."
The voice startled him, and he looked up to see All Might standing beside the bench, his gaunt frame silhouetted against the setting sun. Midoriya's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. All Might looked... tired. More than usual. But there was a softness in his eyes, a warmth that made Midoriya's chest ache in a different way.
"All Might," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
All Might sat down beside him, the bench creaking slightly under his weight. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Finally, All Might broke it.
"I'm glad you're alive." he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I know you've been beating yourself up over what happened, but I need you to understand something. I don't regret choosing you. Not for one second. I trust you with my power, Young Midoriya. Completely."
Midoriya's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest, to argue, but All Might held up a hand, stopping him before he could speak.
"No, listen to me," All Might said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You have a heroic spirit, Young Midoriya. A spirit that reminds me so much of my master, Nana Shimura. She was... she was something else. Brave, selfless, always putting others before herself. There was one time, when we were on patrol together..."
He paused, his gaze distant, as if he were reliving the memory. "We came across a villain who had taken a civilian hostage. The situation was dire, and the villain was powerful. My master... she didn't hesitate. She put herself in harms way, made a move that was reckless and dangerous, but it saved their lives. I was terrified for her, but I also... I admired her so much in that moment. She was everything a hero should be."
All Might's voice wavered slightly, and he looked down at his hands. "I'll tell you more about her another time. But the point is, Young Midoriya, you have that same spirit. That same drive to save others, no matter the cost. And I'm proud of you for it. Don't ever doubt that."
Midoriya felt a prick at the corners of his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, his throat tight. He wanted to believe All Might's words, wanted to believe that he was worthy of that trust. But it was hard. So hard.
"All Might," he said finally. "I.. I don't know if I can live up to that. I keep messing up, keep putting everyone in danger. And now Bakugou... I wasn't even there to help him. I don't even know if he's..."
He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. All Might placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm but gentle.
"We're going to find him," All Might said, his voice steady. "In fact, we may already have a lead. The Commission received some information about his possible location. We're mobilizing a rescue mission as we speak."
Midoriya's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "You... you found him? Where is he? is he...?"
All Might nodded, his expression serious. "You know very well I can't tell you that. But know this. We will bring Young Bakugou home. I promise you that."
Midoriya's heart raced, a thousand thoughts and emotions swirling inside him. He wanted to ask where he was, he wanted to know... because he wanted to be there. He wanted to beg his idol to be part of it. He just wanted to know if he was alive.
But he stayed quiet. He knew this wasn't his time. All he could do was trust All Might and the others to bring Bakugou back.
"Thank you," he said.
All Might smiled, a small and genuine smile, and squeezed Midoriya's shoulder. "We will. And when we do, I want you to be ready. This isn't the end, Young Midoriya. It's just the beginning."
With that, All Might stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the bench. He gave Midoriya one last nod before turning and walking away, his steps quick and purposeful. Midoriya watched him go, his chest aching with a mix of hope and fear. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going to let All Might down again.
***
The arts and crafts room was bright and colourful, filled with the sounds of children laughing and the occasional clatter of supplies. It was a spring holiday, and the local community center had organized a special class for kids and their parents.
The room smelled of glue, paint, and the faint sweetness of drying paper mache. At one of the tables near the back, six-year old Bakugou Katsuki sat hunched over his project, his small hands carefully smoothing out the layers of wet newspaper on his doll. His brow was furrowed with concentration, his tongue poking out slightly as he worked. He didn't look up, not even when Midoriya Izuku plopped down in the seat beside him, chattering away like he always did.
"Kacchan, look at what Hana made! It's a dragon! Isn't it cool? And Taro is making a robot! I think I'm gonna make a hero, but I'm not sure which one yet. Maybe All Might? Or maybe someone else? What do you think Kacchan?"
Bakugou didn't respond, his focus entirely on his doll. He didn't care about Hana's dragon or Taro's robot. He didn't care about Izuku's endless questions. He just wanted to finish his project in peace. But Izuku, as usual, didn't seem to notice—or maybe he just didn't care—that Bakugou wasn't interested in talking.
"Kacchan, what are you making? Is it a hero too? It looks really good! Can I see it?"
Bakugou's hands stilled, and he shot Izuku a glare. "Shut up, Deku! I'm trying to work!"
Izuku flinched but didn't back down. "Sorry, Kacchan! I just think it's really cool! You're so good at this stuff."
Bakugou huffed and turned back to his doll, muttering under his breath. He didn't need Izuku's praise. He didn't need anyone's praise. He just wanted to be left alone.
Across the room, their parents were chatting with the other adults, their voices a low hum beneath the noise of the kids. Mitsuki Bakugou was laughing loudly at something Inko Midoriya had said, her sharp voice carrying over the din. Bakugou glanced over at them briefly, his scowl deepening. He hated when his mom got like that, all loud and embarrassing. He turned back to his doll, determined to ignore everything else.
But Izuku, as always, had other plans. He kept talking, his voice a constant buzz in Bakugou's ear. Bakugou tried to tune him out, but it was hard. Izuku was like a mosquito, always there, always annoying. Eventually, Bakugou couldn't take it anymore.
"Deku, I said shut up!" he snapped, slamming his hands down on the table. The jar of paint next to his doll wobbled precariously, but Bakugou didn't notice. "Why do you always have to be so annoying?"
Izuku blinked, his big green eyes wide with surprise. "I'm sorry, Kacchan! I didn't mean to—"
Before he could finish, one of the other kids—a boy with a mop of brown hair—ran past their table, laughing as he chased after a girl. In his rush, he bumped into Izuku, who stumbled forward, his arm knocking into the jar of paint.
Time seemed to slow as the jar tipped over, spilling bright red paint all over Bakugou's doll. The wet paper mache collapsed under the weight, and the jar rolled off the table, shattering on the floor.
Bakugou stared at the ruined mess in front of him, his chest tightening. His doll—his perfect almost finished doll—was gone. Destroyed. And it was all Izuku's fault.
"Deku!" he screamed, his voice cracking with anger. He jumped to his feet, his small hands clenched into fists. "Look what you did! You ruined it! You ruined everything!"
Izuku's face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry Kacchan! I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"
But Bakugou wasn't listening. His chest heaved, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He felt like the walls were closing in, like the room was too loud, too bright, too much. He wanted to scream, to hit something, to make Izuku pay for ruining his project. But before he could do anything, his mother was there, her hand gripping his shoulder firmly.
"Katsuki!" she said, her voice sharp but not unkind. "That's enough. Calm down."
Bakugou tried to pull away, his face red with anger. "But he—"
"I said calm down," Mitsuki repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. "It was an accident. Now, instead of throwing a fit, why don't you start over? And this time, work with Izuku."
Bakugou's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No way! I don't wanna work with him!"
Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, her expression stern. "Katsuki."
Bakugou glared at her, but he knew better than to argue. With a huff, he sat back down, crossing his arms over his chest. Izuku, still sniffling, sat down beside him.
"I'm really sorry Kacchan," Izuku said quietly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'll help you make a new one, okay?"
Bakugou didn't respond, but he didn't push Izuku away either. Reluctantly, they started working together, their small hands moving in tandem as they built a new doll. Bakugou didn't remember much about what they made, only that it was something silly, something that made Izuku laugh.
And when their mother's called them over to take a picture, Bakugou didn't smile, but Izuku did, his grin wide and bright as he held up their creation.
He let out a sigh. He was tired.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of monitors lining the walls. Each screen displayed a different feed—security cameras, news broadcasts, maps of the city—all of it meticulously monitored and analyzed.
Tomura Shigaraki sat in the center of it all, his fingers drumming restlessly against the arm of his chair. His red eyes flicked from screen to screen, his mind racing with plans and possibilities.
Across from him, his master's voice echoed through the speakers of a communication device, deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder. All For One's presence was always felt, even when he wasn't physically there. It was a constant reminder of the power Shigaraki was meant to inherit, the legacy he was expected to uphold.
"You've done well Tomura." All For One said, his tone calm and measured. "The League's influence is growing, and Hero's Eve is near. But tell me, what do you intend to do with the boy? Bakugou Katsuki. He's a high prospect on the opposing team."
Shigaraki leaned back in his chair, his fingers curling into a loose fist. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice was low and raspy. "He's never going to join. I noticed that almost instantly but wanted to see if we could just break him into it. I don't think he'll change his mind though. But I don't want to waste our effort of getting him either."
All For One chuckled, the sound reverberating through the room. "A pragmatic approach. You've grown, Tomura. There was a time when you would have destroyed him without a second thought. But now you're thinking strategically. That's good."
Shigaraki's lips curled into a faint smirk. "I've learned from the best."
"Indeed," All For One said. "So what are your options? You could choose to have him turned into a Nomu. His quirk is powerful. He'd make an excellent addition to our forces. Or you could use him as leverage. The heroes would do anything to get him back, and that could give you an advantage."
Shigaraki considered this, his fingers twitching as he weighed the possibilities. Turning Bakugou into a Nomu was tempting—it would be a fitting end for someone so stubborn and defiant. But it also felt... wasteful.
Bakugou was a rising star from UA, he showed his potential during the sports festival. He could definitely go bigtime. Easily. He would further represent what current day heroes were and what they stood for, become another symbol. Shigaraki wanted to destroy that.
"No," he finally said. "I want to make a statement. A public execution. Something that will shake the heroes to their core. If we kill him in front of the world, it'll show everyone that the League isn't just a group of thugs. We're a force to be reckoned with."
All For One was silent for a moment, and Shigaraki could almost feel the weight of his master's approval. "A bold move," All For One said, "Killing a target like Bakugou Katsuki, that is an even greater attack on UA than you have done. Every hero in the country will be after you. The media will paint you as more than monsters, and the public will demand heads."
"Good," Shigaraki said, his voice sharp with conviction. "Let them come. The more attention we get, the more chaos we can create. And chaos is what we need. Before Hero's Eve, I want the League to spread out, his random targets, keep the heroes on their toes. By the time we make our move, they'll be too scattered and exhausted to stop us."
All For One chuckled again, a sound that was both approving and ominous. "You've thought this through. I'm impressed. But remember, Tomura, the heroes won't take this lightly. Once you cross the line, there's no going back."
"I know," Shigaraki said, his voice steady. "And I'm ready."
"Very well," All For One. "But be careful. The heroes are already sniffing around. If they find your base before you're ready, it could jeopardize everything."
Shigaraki nodded, his mind already racing with plans. "I'll move Bakugou to another location. Somewhere they won't expect. And I'll make sure the League is ready for whatever comes next."
"Good," All For One said. "I'll be watching. And remember, Tomura, this is your game now. Play it well."
The communication device went silent, and Shigaraki leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest again. He felt a surge of excitement, a thrill that came with the knowledge that he was in control. The League was his, and soon, the world would know it.
***Kurogiri's warp gate deposited Shigaraki back at the League's base, the familiar surroundings a stark contrast to the sterile darkness of his meeting room. The base was a chaotic mess—crates of supplies stacked haphazardly, weapons leaning against the walls, and the faint hum of activity as the League prepared for their next move.
Muscular was lounging on a couch, his massive frame taking up most of the space. Spinner was sharpening his blades, his reptilian eyes focused on the task at hand. Compress was fiddling with a deck of cards, his movements smooth and practiced. And Kurogiri stood by the bar, polishing a glass with his usual demeanour.
And in a dark corner, a small cloth was swirling around slowly hunched up against the building. It was Mimic, his now owner, Riku, the one who controlled every one of his thoughts had left him here at the behest of Shigaraki. He stayed silent and only followed orders, it was like he was a nomu.
Shigaraki walked into the room, his presence immediately drawing attention. "We've got work to do," he said, his voice cutting through the idle chatter. "Our joint attack on Hero's Eve will happen in less than a month. I want the League to be ready. We're going to hit the heroes hard, and we're going to make sure they never forget it."
Muscular grinned, his teeth bared in a feral smile. "About time. I've been itching for a fight."
"Patience," Shigaraki said, his tone sharp. "We're not just going to rush in. We're going to be smart about this. We'll spread out and hit random targets, keep them guessing. And then it will all culminate to the big day."
Spinner's expression turned serious. "What about the student? Are we still keeping him here?"
Shigaraki's eyes narrowed. "No. We're moving him. The heroes are getting too close, and I don't want them interfering. Kurogiri, I'll need you to handle the transport."
Kurogiri inclined his head. "As you wish."
Compress leaned back on a stool, his mask hiding his expression. "By the way, have you noticed Dabi? He's been... different since he's come back."
Shigaraki's lips curled into a smirk. "Stronger you mean. That's good. We're going to need all the firepower we can get. Especially in this inner circle."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Shigaraki's words settling over them. Then Muscular let out a low laugh. "This is going to be fun."
Before Shigaraki could respond, the wall of the base exploded inward, the force of the impact sending debris flying in all directions. The sound was deafening, a roar that shook the very foundations of the building. Shigaraki spun around, his eyes widening as a familiar figure stepped in through the dust and rubble.
All Might.
The Symbol of Peace stood tall, his muscular frame radiating power and determination, also vengeance. His blue eyes burned with fury, and his voice boomed through the room like a thunderclap.
"WHERE IS HE?"
***The night was still, the air thick with anticipation as the heroes and police officers gathered at the edge of the forest, their eyes fixed on the dimly lit building in the distance. The League's base was a nondescript structure, its windows dark and its walls weathered, but the energy surrounding it was anything but ordinary.
All Might stood at the forefront, his towering frame a beacon of strength and resolve. Beside him, Endeavour's flames flickered faintly, his sharp eyes scanning the area with a mix of impatience and determination. Gran Torino hovered nearby, his small frame belying the immense power and experience he carried. Best Jeanist, Kamui Woods, and Pixie-Bob stood ready, their quirks primed for action.
The police officers and detectives moved with precision, setting up perimeter barriers and communication lines. Detective Tsukauchi was at the center of it all, his calm demeanour a steadying presence amidst the tension.
All Might's mind, however, was elsewhere. His thoughts were a whirlwind of strategy, concern, and the ever-present shadow of All For One. He clenched his fists, the weight of the mission pressing down on him. Bakugou was in there. And they were going to get him back.
Gran Torino approached, his movements swift and deliberate. He gestured for All Might and Endeavour to step aside, his expression serious. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low.
All Might followed, his brow furrowing. "What is it, Gran Torino?"
The older hero glanced around to ensure they were out of earshot before speaking. "The information we're acting on, it came from Soryu."
All Might's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Soryu?"
Gran Torino nodded. "The same. He's been working with us, feeding us intel. He's the one who tagged Twice and gave us this location."
Endeavour's flames flared slightly, his voice sharp with skepticism. "And we're supposed to trust him? A known villain? This could be a trap."
Gran Torino's gaze hardened. "I don't trust him fully either, but the Commission does. And right now, we don't have the luxury of doubt. A student's life is on the line."
All Might's jaw tightened, his mind racing. Soryu was dangerous—he knew that better than anyone from the few scenes he has been able to see from the Hosu Game alone. The boy's quirk, his intelligence, his willingness to manipulate both sides of conflict made him a wildcard. But his mentor is right. They didn't have the time to second-guess. Bakugou needed them.
"All For One," All Might said suddenly, his voice low. "If he's here, if he's involved..."
Gran Torino placed his hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. "One problem at a time, Toshinori. Focus on the mission. Get Bakugou out. We'll deal with the rest later."
All Might nodded, his resolve hardening. He turned to Endeavour, who was still scowling but said nothing. The three of them rejoined the group, where Tsukauchi was finalizing the plan.
"Listen up," Tsukauchi said, his voice carrying over the quiet murmurs of the assembled heroes and officers. "This is the location we've identified as the likely holding site for Bakugou Katsuki. The intel came from a tracking device attached to one of the Leagues members, Twice, who is currently being pursued by another team. Our priority is to secure Bakugou and apprehend any villains on-site."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Best Jeanist, Pixie Bob—you're on search and rescue. If Bakugou isn't in the main area, you'll need to locate any underground facilities. Kamui Woods, you're on perimeter control. Make sure no one escapes. All Might, Endeavour—you're on the front line. Incapacitate any villains you encounter, but everyone remember, our main priority is Bakugou's safety."
All Might stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. "We move swiftly and decisively. The League has already caused enough harm. Tonight, we take a stand. For Bakugou. For the future of hero society."
The group nodded, their expressions grim but determined. All Might turned to face the building, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. The moment they'd been prepared for. The moment he'd been dreading.
As they approached the building, All Might's mind wandered. He thought of Bakugou, he thought of Midoriya, waiting anxiously for good news. He thought of All For One, the shadow that loomed over everything. And he thought of himself—his dwindling power, his fading time as the Symbol of Peace.
But none of that mattered now. What mattered was Bakugou. What mattered was proving that the heroes could still protect, still inspire, still win.
All Might's fists clenched, his muscles coiling like springs. He took a deep breath, his mind reciting a silent mantra.
This is the heroes' path. This is our chance to reclaim what we've lost. This is our moment.
And then, with a roar that shook the very earth, he surged forward. His fist collided with the wall of the building, the impact sending debris flying in all directions. The sound was deafening, a thunderous crash that echoed through the night. Dust and rubble filled the air, but All Might didn't stop. He stepped through the gaping hole, his blue eyes blazing with fury.
The room was beyond chaos. Villains scrambled to their feet, their expressions a mix of shock and fear. Shigaraki stood at the center of it all, his red eyes wide with surprise. All Might's gaze locked onto him, his voice booming like a thunderclap.
"WHERE IS HE?"
Kurogiri's warp gate flickered to life, it's inky darkness swirling with the promise of escape. "Everyone, move!" he urged, his voice urgent.
Before the League could react, a blur of fire and fury streaked past them. Endeavour's roar shattered the tension, his form blazing like a comet as he rocketed straight into Kurogiri.
BOOM!
The impact sent the warp villain hurtling backwards, smashing through the concrete wall. Dust and debris rained down as he skidded outside the building, slamming hard against the pavement, His metal collar crackled with static interference, his warp gate sputtering and fizzling.
Endeavour would allow it, his flames licking hungrily around his fists.
Before the heroes could press their advantage, a bestial roar filled the air. Muscular lunged forward, his grin stretching ear to ear as his muscle fibers swelled grotesquely. "Been a while since I got to cut loose!" he bellowed, throwing a devastating punch straight at All Might.
THOOM!
All Might's palm caught the strike, his fingers clenching around Muscular's massive fist. The force of their clash cracked the floor beneath them, sending tremors through the hideout. For a moment, they were locked in a battle of sheer strength, the ground splintering under their combined might.
"All Might, let's see how long you—"
"Mimic!"
Shigaraki's sharp and raspy voice shouted out and cut through the noise in the room. Muscular instantly wrenched his arm back, leaving All Might momentarily off-balance. Before he could give chase, the entire room lurched violently.
The walls warped. The floor twisted. The entire hideout convulsed as if alive. Mimic's ability seized the environment, reconfiguring the structure in an instant. The ground beneath All Might and Endeavour gave way, the reinforced floor crumbling beneath them.
They plummeted!
The two heroes landed heavily on a new lower level, dust and glass exploding around them. All Might coughed, shaking off the impact, while Endeavour landed in a crouch, flames roaring to life around his shoulders.
Then, from the darkness, they emerged.
Nomu.
Twisted, grotesque figures stepped forward, their glowing eyes lifeless, their bodies hulking with unnatural strength. They filled the chamber, their low growls sending a cold chill through the air.
Above, Best Jeanist and Pixie-Bob moved with quiet precision, slipping past the chaos to descend deeper into the hideout. Their goal was clear: find Bakugou.
Meanwhile, Endeavour rose to his full height, glaring at the creatures before him. "I'll take care of this. You get—"
A new portal yawned open above them. More Nomu spilled through, a writhing tide of destruction.
"Tch." Endeavour's eyes narrowed. "Of course."
All Might barely had time to react before one of them—taller than the rest, its sinewy arms lined with jagged protrusions—suddenly lunged. Its forearms split open, revealing chainsaws embedded within its flesh. With a shriek of metal, the blades revved to life, spinning wildly.
RRRRRZZZZZT!
The Nomu lashed out.
SLASH!
All Might reeled as the chainsaws tore across his cheek, drawing the first blood of the battle. The Nomu tilted its head back and let out a maniacal, gurgling laugh, its elongated tongue writhing grotesquely in the air.
The League members they were after could have been gone now. But...
... the fight had just begun.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The room was cold, the air damp and heavy with the scent of mildew and rust. The walls were rough concrete, cracked and stained with dark patches that could have been water damage or something far worse.
The floor was littered with broken chains, shattered glass, and the remnants of what looked like furniture. A wispy light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting erratic shadows that danced across the walls like specters.
He was slumped against the wall, his wrists bound tightly behind his back inside a big metal box that if he even tried to explode it would destroy his hands first. His body was stripped down to his under garments, his once-proud frame was now a canvas of bruises, cuts, and the grotesque marks left by Toga.
The lipstick imprints, were faded but it felt like a permanent mark. Her name carved into his stomach was worse though, with every shallow breath he took it throbbed in deep pain.
Bakugou's head hung low, his spiky blonde hair matted with sweat and blood. His vision blurred in and out to focus, his mind drifting between consciousness and a blind hazy, dreamlike state. The noise above him was distant but growing louder, shouting, crashes, it sounded like a battle. He tried to focus, to make sense of it, but his thoughts were sluggish, weighed down by exhaustion and pain.
What the hell is going on up there? he thought, his mind was struggling to piece together the fragments of awareness.
Are the heroes here? Or is it another group of villains? Did the League piss someone off?
The thoughts of heroes coming to rescue him felt almost laughable. He hadn't seen a single news report about his kidnapping, hadn't heard a word about his disappearance. For all he knew, the world had moved on, forgotten about him. The thought made his chest tighten, a bitter mix of anger and despair bubbling up inside him.
They left me here. They didn't even try to find me.
His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven gasps. The memories of what Toga had done to him—the cuts, the blood, carving her name into his skin... and more—everything flooded his mind, overwhelming him. He felt a surge of panic, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled. His body trembled, his breaths coming in short, frantic bursts.
Get it together, damn it! he screamed at himself, his teeth gritted as he fought to regain control. But the panic was too much, the memories too vivid. He felt like he was drowning, the walls closing in around him, the shadows twisting into monstrous shapes that seemed to mock him.
And then, a voice cut through the chaos.
"Bakugou."
The voice was firm, commanding, but there was an undercurrent of something softer, something almost comforting. Bakugou's head snapped up, his red eyes wide as he tried to focus on the figure standing in the doorway.
Best Jeanist.
The Pro Hero stood tall, his signature denim jacket pristine despite the chaos surrounding them. His sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the grim details—the bloodstains, the broken chains, the marks on his body. For a moment, his usual composed demeanour faltered, a flicker of something raw and unguarded crossing his face.
Behind him stood Pixie-Bob, her expression a mix of concern and determination. Bakugou recognized her from one of Midoriya's old hero journals, the memory stirring a pang of anger and grief. He hated how much that damn nerd still occupied his thoughts, even now.
"Bakugou," Best Jeanist said again, his voice steady but softer this time. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate and careful, as if approaching a wounded animal. "We're here to get you out."
Bakugou didn't respond, his throat too dry, his voice too weak. He just stared, his chest heaving as he tried to process what was happening. Best Jeanist knelt beside him, his gloved hand moving to undo his bindings. The heroes fingers trembled slightly as he worked, his usual precision marred by the shock of what he was seeing.
"You're safe now," Best Jeanist said, his voice low and reassuring. "We're going to get you out of here."
As the ropes fell away, Bakugou's arms dropped limply to his sides, his muscles too weak to hold them up. Best Jeanist hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on the marks Toga gad left. The hero's jaw tightened, his composure cracking for just a moment.
"What did they do to you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. There was a rawness to his tone, a mix of anger and sorrow that Bakugou hadn't heard from the hero during his brief intern with him.
Pixie-Bob stepped forward, her hands glowing faintly as she summoned her quirk. The ground beneath them shifted, the earth rising to form a sturdy platform. "We need to move," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I'll lift him up. We'll get him to safety."
Best Jeanist nodded, his expression hardening as he regained his composure. He shrugged off his denim jacket, the fabric soft and warm as he draped it over Bakugou's shoulders. The gesture was small but grounding, the weight of the jacket a tangible reminder that he was no longer alone.
"Can you stand?" Best Jeanist asked, his voice steady once more.
Bakugou again, didn't respond, his body was too weak, his mind too overwhelmed. But he managed a small nod, his pride refusing to let him admit just how broken he felt. Best Jeanist helped him to his feet, his grip firm but gentle, and guided him onto the platform Pixie-Bob had created.
As the earth began to rise, carrying them away toward the surface, Bakugou felt a single tear escape, trailing down his cheek. He quietly wiped it away, his jaw clenched as he stared straight ahead. He wouldn't let them see him break. Not now. Not ever.
***The hilltop overlooked the chaos below like a grotesque theater performance. From this vantage point, the League had a perfect view of the crumbling building, the flashes of fire and the occasional burst of debris as heroes and Nomu clashed in a cacophony of destruction.
The night air was thick with the smell of smoke and burning metal, the distant sounds of battle carrying up to where the League stood, a mismatched group of villains silhouetted against the moonlit sky.
Shigaraki sat cross-legged on the grass, his fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh. His red eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and irritation as he watched the spectacle unfold. Beside him, the rest of the League lounged in various states of boredom.
Muscular was pacing back and forth, his massive frame casting a long shadow which was annoying Shigaraki. Compress leaned against a tree, bringing out a deck of cards and shuffling them. Toga was perched on a rock, swinging her legs and humming a cheerful tune, her golden eyes fixed on the distant flames. Kurogiri stood a few feet away, his misty form flickering faintly in the moonlight. Mimic, still in his small cloth form, clung to Shigaraki's shoulder, quiet and almost unnoticed.
"This is boring," Muscular grumbled, cracking his knuckles. "We should have stayed, even if only a little longer. I could have taken on All Might by now."
Shigaraki shot him a glare, his lips curling into a sneer. "Shut up. You'd get flattened in two seconds and then I'd have to figure out a way to grab you or leave you."
Muscular scowled but didn't argue, instead muttering something under his breath about, "wasted opportunities."
Compress chuckled, flipping a card between his fingers. "Patience, my friend. The show's just getting started."
Toga giggled, her voice high and melodic. "I think its fun to watch! Look at all burning rocks, they're like fireworks."
Shigaraki rolled his eyes but didn't respond, his attention fixed on the building below. The heroes were making progress, cutting through the Nomu with alarming efficiency. It annoyed him... less than he thought it would anyway.
"Should we use Kurogiri to grab Bakugou again?" Compress asked, his tone casual, as if he were suggesting a quick trip to the store. "We could slip in and out before they even notice."
Shigaraki shook his head, his expression dismissive. "No point. Killing him in public was more of a fantasy anyway. I didn't place a lot of bets on it."
Toga pouted, her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "Aww, but I worked so hard on him!"
"Your art piece is currently wrapped in Best Jeanist's tacky denim jacket," Shigaraki said dryly. He was able to know all of this through Kurogiri allowing him to look through his portals. "Let it go."
Kurogiri's golden eyes glowed faintly as he stepped forward, his voice calm and measured. "Shall I teleport us back to the other base? It's unwise to linger here."
Shigaraki held up a hand, his gaze still fixed on the battle. "Not yet. I want to see how this plays out. How are the Nomu doing?"
Kurogiri faced forward again. "Not so great. Endeavour's burning through the weaker ones like they're kindling. And All Might... well, he's All Might."
Shigaraki smirked, a dark glint in his eyes. "Figures. Guess we'll have to replace them with the students from Aldera. Master's been preparing them for a while now."
Muscular perked up at that, his grin returning. "Finally, some action. When do we get to play with them?"
"When I say so!" Shigaraki snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote device, it's surface sleek and black, with a single red button in the center... how very comical.
Compress raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "And what, pray tell, is that?"
Shigaraki's smirk widened, his fingers hovering over the button. "Insurance. I had Twice and Mimic rig the building with explosives over a month ago. Just in case."
Yes. Kidnapping Bakugou and one other UA student was always on his mind, but he knew that heroes would be hot on their tail so in case they followed them on the same day, he would have just had the students left here with the heroes and blown the place up.
Toga clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ooh, are we blowing it up? Can I press the button?"
"No." Shigaraki said flatly, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm doing it."
Muscular groaned, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is lame. I wanted to fight All Might, not watch him get blown up."
"You'll live,"Shigaraki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Probably. Anyway, I doubt All Might would die to an explosion, it won't be as big as I wanted it to be."
Before Muscular could retort, a rustling sound came from the bushes nearby. The League turned as one, their attention snapping to the source of the noise. A police officer stumbled into view, his face pale and his hands trembling as he clutched a transmitter. The device crackled faintly, the voices of the heroes faintly audible through the static.
"Uh... hi?" the officer said weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh... I think I took the wrong turn?"
For a moment, the League just stared at him, their expressions a mix of amusement and disbelief. Then, without warning, Muscular lunged forward, his massive hand closing around the officer's throat. The man didn't even have time to scream before his neck snapped with a sickening crunch, his body going limp in Muscular's grip.
"Oops," Muscular said, dropping the body like a sack of potatoes. "My bad."
Shigaraki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're an idiot."
"He was a spy!" Muscular protested, his tone was defensive. "What was I supposed to do, invite him to tea?"
Before Shigaraki could respond, a faint creaking sound drew their attention. The trees around them began to shift, their branches twisting and elongating unnaturally. Shigaraki's eyes narrowed as he recognized the telltale signs of the hero rising quickly through the ranks, Kamui Woods.
"Great," he muttered, "Just what we needed."
The ground beneath them rumbled, the sound growing louder and more intense. Shigaraki glanced toward the building, where All Might's silhouette was visible through the smoke and flames. The Symbol of Peace was heading their way, his movements were swift.
"Time to go." Shigaraki said, his voice calm but urgent. He pressed the button on the remote, the red light blinking once before going dark.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a deafening roar, the building exploded. The force of the blast sent a shockwave rippling through the air, the ground trembling beneath their feet. Flames erupted from the structure, consuming everything in their path, while debris rained down like meteors. The heroes scattered, their shouts of alarm barely audible.
Shigaraki smirked, his red eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That should keep them busy."
Kurogiri stepped forward, his warp gate swirling to life. "Shall we?"
Shigaraki nodded, his smirk fading as he turned to face the League. "Lets go. We've got work to do."
As the warp gate enveloped them, the last thing they heard was the distant roar of All Might's voice, filled with fury and determination. The last thing they saw was the burning wreckage of the building, a fitting symbol of chaos they'd unleash.
And then they were gone, leaving behind only the smell of fire and ash, and the echoes of their laughter.
***The world was a blur of smoke, fire and ash. The ground trembled beneath All Might's feet as he stood amidst the wreckage, his massive frame silhouetted against the glowing embers of the destroyed building.
His costume was scorched and torn, the fabric hanging in tatters from his broad shoulders. Burn marks crisscrossed his arms and chest, the skin beneath raw and blistered, but he paid them no mind. His focus was entirely on the three figures cradled in his arms.
Best Jeanist. Pixie-Bob. And Bakugou.
All Might had acted on instinct the moment he heard Shigaraki's voice over the comms speaking on explosions in the building. It sent a jolt of panic within him, but he hadn't hesitated. He'd moved faster than he thought was still possible for him, his body a blur of motion as he dove into the crumbling structure. He'd found them just in time—Best Jeanist and Pixie Bob shielding Bakugou, their bodies and earth constructs curled protectively around the boy as the world around them erupted in flames.
All Might had thrown himself over them, his massive frame absorbing the brunt of the explosion. The force of the blast had knocked the wind out of him, the heat searing his skin, but he hadn't faltered. He'd held on, his arms wrapped tightly around them, shielding them from the debris and flames until the chaos subsided.
Now, as the smoke began to clear, All Might stood tall, his breathing heavy but steady. His blue eyes scanned the scene, taking in the destruction—the shattered remains of the building, the charred bodies of the Nomu, the distant figures of the heroes and officers regrouping. But his attention quickly returned to the three in his arms.
Best Jeanist stirred first, his sharp eyes blinking open as he took in his surroundings. He looked up at All Might, his usual composed demeanour slipping for just a moment as he registered the hero's battered state.
"All Might..." he began, his voice hoarse but steady. "You... you saved us."
All Might smiled, his trademark grin shining through the soot and ash that covered his face. "Of course," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "That's what heroes do."
Pixie-Bob groaned softly, her hands glowing faintly as she summoned her quirk to stabilize the ground beneath them. She looked up at All Might, her expression a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thanks for the save, big guy. That was... intense."
All Might chuckled, the sound deep and resonant despite his obvious fatigue. "Just doing my job."
But his attention was already shifting to the third figure in his arms—Bakugou. The boy was unconscious, his face pale and his body limp, but he was alive. All Might's heart ached as he took in the marks on Bakugou's skin—the bruises, the cuts, the grotesque imprints left by Toga. The sight filled him with a mix of anger and relief, but above all, determination.
We got him back, All Might thought, his chest swelling with a sense of pride and accomplishment.
After everything that's happened this year, this feels like our first solid win.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention, and he turned to see Gran Torino and Kamui Woods making their way toward him, their expressions a mix of concern and relief. Behind them, the officers were already moving, stretchers and medical supplies in hand as they prepared to tend to the injured.
"All Might!" Gran Torino called, his voice sharp but laced with worry. "Are you all right? You look like you just went ten rounds with a volcano."
All Might laughed, the sound hearty and genuine. "I've had worse," he said, his tone light despite the obvious pain in his body. "But I'll live. More importantly, they're safe."
Gran Torino's gaze softened as he took in the sight of Bakugou, his small frame dwarfed by All Might's massive arms. "You got him back," he said, his voice quieter now. "Good job, kid."
Kamui Woods stepped forward, his expression serious but relieved. "We've got ambulances on the way. Let's get them out of here."
All Might nodded, his grip on Bakugou tightening slightly as he carefully handed him over to the waiting officers. They moved with practiced efficiency, gently placing Bakugou on a stretcher and covering him with a blanket. Best Jeanist and Pixie-Bob were quickly tended to as well, their injuries minor compared to the trauma Bakugou had endured.
As the officers worked, All Might took a moment to catch his breath, his body trembling slightly from the strain. The burn marks on his skin throbbed with every movement, but he ignored the pain, his focus entirely on the boy being wheeled away.
He's safe. All Might thought, his chest swelling with a sense of relief and pride.
We got him back.
The thought was almost euphoric, a bright spot in what had been a year of darkness and loss. The heroes had been on the defensive for so long, reacting to the League's, and any other villains every move, but this... this felt like a turning point. A small but significant victory.
All Might's thought's drifted briefly to the chainsaw Nomu, the one that had managed to land a hit on him earlier. The creature had been a formidable opponent, its grotesque form and relentless attacks a stark reminder of his time running out.
But as soon as the announcement of the explosion came about, the Nomu disappeared, it was nowhere to be found. All Might couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease at the thought, but he pushed it aside. There would be a time to deal with that later.
For now, he allowed himself a moment of quiet triumph. The heroes had reclaimed one of their own, and that was worth celebrating.
Gran Torino approached, his expression unreadable as he studied All Might. "Your shaking." he said, his tone blunt but not unkind. "You sure you're alright?"
All Might smiled, his grin as bright and reassuring as ever. "I'm fine," he said, his voice steady. "Just... happy Gran Torino. After everything that has happened.."
Gran Torino's gaze softened, only for a moment, the old hero almost looked proud before his face twisted after just remembering something.
"Yeah well enjoy it for now. 'Cause after our little conversation later I think you'll be changing tunes."
All Might nodded, his expression was serious and he was quite interested in what it could be that his former teacher could be so worried about.
The ambulances road away silently through the single forest path before they would start wailing back on to the street. Endeavour had just clawed himself out of more wreckage and shook his head while stretching an arm. As All Might expected, he was not too badly injured.
Great.
Now onto the next...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The air was thick with the scent of ash and decay. The streets were eerily quiet, the usual hum of life replaced by the occasional crack of broken structures and the distant caw of crows circling above. Buildings stood like skeletal remains, their walls cracked and blackened, windows shattered into jagged teeth. The ground was littered with debris. It was a graveyard of progress.
I walked slowly, my hands in my pockets, my eyes scanning the desolation. The destruction here was different from what I'd seen in Deika. There, the damage was calculated, a controlled burn meant to pave the way for something new. Here, it was just a big mess.
Miku walked behind me, her stingray-like wings folded neatly against her back. Her expression was unreadable, her sharp eyes taking in the devastation with a detached curiosity. She didn't speak much, but her presence was a constant reminder of why we were here.
Destro had sent us to assess the city, to gauge the people's discontent and see if this could be fertile ground for the Meta Liberation Army's ideology. It was a smart move. Desperation bred loyalty, and loyalty was what Destro needed if he was going to reshape society.
But as I walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The destruction here didn't match what the people blamed it on. They blamed Proxy, which couldn't be possible, well it could, but he did most things in game, so why were the people here putting blame to him?
I stopped in front of a collapsed building, its facade reduced to rubble. A faded sign hung crookedly from what remained of the entrance, the words "Community Center" barely legible. I crouched down, picking up a piece of broken glass and turning it over in my hand. The edges were sharp, glinting in the pale sunlight. I tossed it aside, the sound of it clattering against the ground echoing through the empty street.
"They blame Proxy for this?" I said, my voice was low, I didn't expect an answer.
Miku glanced at me, her expression unchanging. "Does it matter?" she asked. "People will blame him for whatever they can for now. Its easier than finding a truth, that's for the people of the future."
"The truth?" I stood, brushing the dust from my hands. "And what's that?"
"That the world is broken," she said simply. "And no one knows how to fix it."
I didn't respond, my gaze drifting back to the ruins... She lied.
Miku lied to me just now. She was a good liar but she had no reason to feel bad for lying to me I guess. Her sharp eyes would dart around the rubble when she was trying to give me her answer. That made my mind wander. Not just that, but the answer wasn't hard to find... It was Destro.
Destro had probably calculated an attack on towns and cities that not many heroes frequent, and then when Koku Hanabata took leadership and started stationing more heroes around as well as more relief efforts, then more people would stick out for him if necessary.
A sound broke the silence—a soft shuffling, like footsteps on gravel. I turned, my eyes narrowing as I scanned the area. A figure emerged from the shadows, a young girl no older than fifteen. Her school uniform was clean, her hair was neat and cut short. She had a neat and pristine look, but her eyes... they looked haunted.
"Hey," I called out, trying to keep my voice calm. "You okay?"
She flinched, her eyes widening as she took us in. For a moment, she looked like she might run, but then she hesitated, her gaze flickering between me and Miku. "Who... who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Just passing through," I said, taking a step closer. "What happened here?"
The girl hesitated, her arms wrapping around herself as if to ward off the cold. "You don't know?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We're not from around here," Miku said, her tone softer than usual. "Tell us."
The girl looked down, her shoulders slumping. "Its... its been like this for weeks. First, there was that villain, Proxy. First he did something. I don't even know what. But after that, things just kept getting worse. The heroes came, but they couldn't stop it. And then... then there was another attack."
"What attack?" I asked, my interest piqued.
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and anger. "A villain was fighting with a hero. They fought, but they just made it worse. The orphanage..."
"An orphanage?" Miku asked, her brow furrowing.
The girl nodded, her voice breaking. "Its gone now. The kids... they made it out, but they have nowhere to go. The city's been trying to rebuild, but there's not enough money. They're focusing on the important parts first, they said. But what about us?"
I didn't respond. Why was she dressed for school? Her school was gone now, maybe it was just some weird sentimental value.
"Where are the kids now?" Miku asked, her voice gentle.
The girl shrugged, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't now. I think they were sent to other cities."
I felt a bit of guilt, or maybe anger. I didn't really know. But it didn't matter. What mattered was the opportunity this presented. Destro planned on making the Meta Liberation Army's influence would grow, first with a rapid burst of intensity and then slowly like this in these parts of cities, that less heroes flocked to.
That was something for me to stop. First I thought on just taking out Destro, but that would take much more thought, plus I haven't seen how powerful he is with his quirk. Koku, he was a weakling with a weak quirk that does nothing for him personally.
He has his guards on him at all times but... I could still kill him. I will kill him.
Then Destro's plans will be disrupted, and the heroes can regroup, even if only for a short amount of time. It would be a risky move. But me being in this situation was risky anyway.
"Kobe."
Miku's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see her staring at me, her expression unreadable. "You've been quiet," she said. "What are you thinking about?"
"Just thinking about how shitty things are." I responded.
Miku walked slowly in a circle around me, "Well, we should head back home now. Destro would want to know what we've found."
I nodded, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "Yeah," I said quietly. "Lets go."
Yeah, we're going. There was only a few weeks left now, and then the attack will happen.
... I wonder when the next time I'll see Gran Torino.***The hospital stretched before Aizawa like a sterile, fluorescent-lit tunnel, its walls lined with framed paintings of plain and boring landscapes that did little to mask the underlying tension in the air. The faint hum of machinery and the occasional beep of a monitor echoed through the corridor, a constant reminder of the fragility of life within these walls.
Aizawa's footsteps were quick and purposeful, his capture weapon swaying slightly with each stride as he navigated the maze of hallways. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more urgent than the last.
Bakugou's back.
The words had been relayed to him in a hurried phone call from Tsukauchi. The mission was a success. Aizawa had barely processed the information before he was out the door, his usual stoic demeanour cracking under the weight of the news. The thought of loosing a student, a student of his dying, it was a constant, gnawing presence in the back of his mind.
Now, as he approached the private wing of the hospital, his pace quickened. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint scent of bleach. Nurses and doctors moved briskly past him, their faces masks of professional detachment. Aizawa ignored them, his focus entirely on the room at the end of the hall.
He pushed open the door without knocking, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. Bakugou lay in the bed, his face pale and gaunt, his spiky blonde hair matted and dull. Tubes and wires snaked from his arms to the machines beside him, their rhythmic beeping a stark contrast to the stillness of his body. Aizawa's chest tightened at the sight, but he forced himself to remain composed.
The room was already occupied. Detective Tsukauchi stood near the window, his arms crossed and his expression grim. A doctor in a white coat was jotting down something on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard, her brow furrowed in concentration. And then there were Bakugou's parents—Mitsuki and Masaru—standing at the foot of the bed.
Mitsuki's arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her husband stood beside her, his hands clasped in front of him, his face etched with worry.
Aizawa stepped further into the room, his presence immediately drawing their attention. Tsukauchi nodded in acknowledgement, while the doctor glanced up briefly before returning to her notes. Mistuki's sharp eyes locked onto Aizawa, and for a moment, he felt an odd unease—a subtle strangeness in her gaze that he couldn't quite place.
"Aizawa," Tsuauchi said, breaking the silence. "Glad you could make it."
"I came as soon as I heard." Aizawa replied, his voice low but steady. He moved closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving Bakugou. "How is he?"
The doctor stepped forward, her expression professional but not unkind. "He's stable," she said, her tone measured. "But he's been through a lot. Severe malnutrition, dehydration and blood loss. With some really big injuries too."
Aizawa's jaw tightened, but he nodded, urging her to continue.
"We've treated the most pressing injuries," the doctor continued, flipping through her notes. "There are lacerations on his chest and arms. He also has a... marking on his stomach. It's been treated, but it's clear it will last for some time."
Mitsuki's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Those bastards," she muttered, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "What kind of monsters would do that to a kid?"
Masaru placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch was gentle. "Mitsuki." he said softly, his voice a calming counterpoint to her fury. He then turned to the doctor. "When will he wake up?"
"It's hard to say," the doctor admitted. "His body needs time to recover. We've started him on a nutrient drip to address the malnutrition, but it could be days before he regains consciousness. Once he's stable, we'll bring in Recovery Girl to accelerate the healing process."
Tsukauchi stepped forward, his expression grim. "We're doing what we can to ensure his safety. The League won't get near him again."
Mitsuki's eyes narrowed, her gaze flickering between Tsukauchi and Aizawa. "You'd better make sure of that." Her tone was sharp and led all eyes to her, she took all attention with stern reproach. "'Cause we all know that no matter what that boy's been through he won't quit trying to become a hero. So, if anything like this does happen again, I'm holding you all responsible."
Aizawa met her gaze, his expression unreadable There was something in her eyes—something he couldn't quite place. It wasn't just anger or fear. It was... something else. Something darker. He filed it away for later, his focus returned back to his student.
"He's strong." Aizawa said finally, his voice quiet, more so than he has been before. "Stronger than most. He'll pull through this."
Masaru nodded, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. "For everything you've done for him."
Aizawa didn't respond, his gaze lingering on Bakugou's still form. The boy looked so... small. It was a stark contrast to the fiery, defiant student he knew. Aizawa's hands clenched at his sides, a surge of anger and guilt washing over him. He should have done more. He should have been there to protect his student.
Not just for Bakugou. For all of his students. Honestly, if he could, Aizawa would happily have traded positions with Bakugou now, or actually whenever it all started. All the scars on him, the trauma that was inflicted on him, he wishes he could just take it away.
His students were being subjected through what most modern day heroes haven't even been through.
It wasn't fair.
It was gruelling and cruel and... just tiring.
He wants it all to stop, even if only for a minute. He wants some time where they can all be normal and happy students, chasing their dreams that are only looking bigger and harder to reach as the days go by instead of smaller.
***The room was a stark contrast to the chaos of the outside world. Its walls were lined with dark wood panelling, the faint scent of polished mahogany mingling with the sharp tang of freshly brewed coffee. A long, rectangular table dominated the space, its surface gleaming under the soft glow of overheard lights.
The air was heavy, not just with the heat of Endeavour's simmering flames but with the weight of unspoken truths and impending revelations.
All Might sat at the table, his massive frame dwarfing his chair beneath him. His signature smile was absent, replaced by a grim expression that spoke of exhaustion and resolve. Beside him, Endeavour leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed and his flames flickering faintly along his shoulders. His impatience was palpable, his sharp eyes darting between the other occupants of the room.
Gran Torino stood near the end of the table, his small frame belying the immense presence he commanded. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable as he watched the door. Across from him sat Rika Amamiya, the head of the organization, her posture poised and her gaze sharp. Her presence was commanding, her every movement deliberate and calculated.
Beside her was Hideaki Kurogami, a man who both heroes recognized as the man whose name had been in the news headlines a lot in the past, speaking poorly on current day heroes. His broad shoulders and imposing stature were at odds with the unease that flickered in his dark eyes.
The door clicked shut behind them, sealing the room in a tense silence. Endeavour was the first to speak, his voice sharp and impatient. "What's this about? I don't have time for a surprise meeting, even if its with the head of the Hero Commission."
Rika raised a hand, her voice calm. "This isn't a meeting for the sake of bureaucracy, Endeavour. There are things you need to know—things that will affect how we proceed. And I don't want either of you acting abruptly."
All Might's brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued. He leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped on the table. "What do you mean?"
Rika's gaze shifted to Hideaki, her expression unreadable. "Hideaki will explain."
The bear-like mutant shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his massive hands gripping the edge of the table. He took a deep breath, his voice low and gravelly as he began to speak. "Years ago, I was involved in a project... the Eden Project. It was meant to create the next generation of heroes—individuals that could potentially even surpass All Might. But it... it was wrong. Horribly wrong."
The room seemed to grow hotter, the air flickering with tension. Endeavour's flames flared slightly, his eyes narrowed.
Hideaki's gaze dropped to the table, his voice was heavy with regret. He explained what the project was, he explained how they found the children involved with the project and the forms of "education" and training they went through. The two strongest heroes of the nation listened as Hideaki spilled out to them how people like Daigo Kiyoshi was a part of the project, and even Soryu.
Kobe Arakawa. The same boy running around as a villain, a cunning and intelligence that he may have never even had, not in the way he does now. To
hear that he was a product of something so twisted, so depraved... it was almost too much to bear.
"You... you did something like that?" All Might's voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight that made the room feel even smaller. "You took children, molded them into weapons, and then discarded them knowing nothing of where they ended up before it was too late."
All Might's voice was harsh and oppressive.
"You could have came out to us sooner about this, we could have done something if you had acted earlier."
Hideaki flinched, his shoulders slumping under the weight of All Might's words. "I.. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was creating a better future. But I was wrong. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make amends."
All Might stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. His towering frame loomed over the table, his blue eyes blazing with fury that made even Endeavour tense. "Amends? You think that would be enough? You think apologizing will undo the damage you've done."
Gran Torino stepped forward, his voice sharp. "All Might, sit down!"
For a moment, it seemed like All Might would ignore him. His fist trembled at his sides, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. But then, slowly, he sank back into his seat, his expression dark but controlled.
Rika's gaze was steady, her voice calm but firm. "We're not here to assign blame. What's done is done. What matters now is how we move forward. Hideaki has agreed to cooperate fully with our investigation. And rest assured, everyone involved in the Eden Project will be dealt with. Hawks is already on it."
Endeavour's flames flickered, again. "So if we're not here to arrest this man then what?!"
Both heroes felt like they were at their limits now.
Gran Torino stepped forward, his expression grim, his small frame radiating a quiet intensity. "That's why we're here. The League is planning a joint attack with the remnant's of Destro. And we've got intel."
All Might's eyes narrowed, his voice low but steady. "Inter? From who?"
Gran Torino hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting between All Might and Endeavour. "From Soryu. Kobe Arakawa. He's been feeding us information."
The room grew warmer, the revelation settled over them like a fog. "You're telling me you're relying on a villain that has only been wronged by people on our side for intel?"
Gran Torino's voice was firm, cutting through Endeavour's anger. "He's not just a villain. He's a kid who's been put through hell, and he's risking his life to help us. The information he's given us is solid. The League's planning an attack on Hero's Eve. And its worse than we thought."
All Might's hands clenched into fists, his chest tightening at the mention of Soryu. He was a boy who he had first heard off from his student, a boy that was "missing", but then it was found out he was working with Overhaul, a yakuza boss.
Only to find out that he was working on his own goal to free a little girl from the mans grasp. Then he was thrown in a game world created by Proxy, he played a grand role in getting everyone out of that.
Now. Now he is working as an agent getting useful data from a major villain group to help the one's with hero in their title.
To All Might, he felt that the boy has been doing a better job than he was this past year.
"How much worse?" he asked.
Gran Torino's gaze was steady, his words measured but carrying the weight of a storm. "The League isn't working alone. They've allied themselves with remnants of Destro's army. Their numbers are greater than we anticipated, and their resources are vast. This isn't just an attack—its a full-scale war."
Endeavour slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the room like a thunderclap. "Then why aren't we out there bashing skulls? Why are we wasting time in meetings when we could be stopping them?"
Gran Torino's voice was sharp, cutting through Endeavour's fury like a blade. "Because the heads of this operation—Shigaraki, Destro and All For One—they're not going to show themselves until they're ready. We can't just charge in."
The mention of All For One sent a ripple of tension through the room. All Might's expression darkened, his hands trembling slightly as he fought to keep his composure. Endeavour's flames flared, his sharp voice was in disbelief. "All For One? Who the hell is that?"
Gran Torino's gaze shifted to All Might, his expression unreadable but heavy with meaning. "All For One is the only villain that All Might couldn't beat. He's the most dangerous man alive, and he's the one pulling the strings of the League."
Endeavour's eyes widened, his flames flickering faintly as the weight of the revelation settled over him. "You're telling me there's a villain out there who could take on All Might and not be known to the public?"
All Might's voice was low, like he was embarrassed, but he held a simmering anger within him. "He's not just any villain," All Might lifted his shirt, surprising everyone in the room but the elderly man. "this is what he left me with. And ever since then I have been weakened." This was not something he told just anyone. Especially not a man like Hideaki Kurogami, but he needed everything to be as serious as possible from this point on.
Endeavour's expression darkened as he processed the information. "Then we as part of the top ten need to focus everything we have on taking him down. If he's the head we cut it off."
All Might shook his head, his voice held a quiet desperation. "No. We can't afford to put all our resources into one target. We need to spread out, cover all corners. This attack needs to have the least amount of casualties possible. There's been too much death and destruction this year. I won't let the end of the year turn into a memorial day."
His words hung in the air, the weight of their meaning settling over the room like a heavy blanket. Endeavour's flames dimmed slightly, his expression thoughtful but still tense. Gran Torino nodded, his voice steady. "All Might's right. We need to be strategic. And that means bringing in the hero students as well."
All Might's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. He hated the idea of putting his students in danger, but he understood the necessity. They were the future, and they needed to be part of this fight. Still, there wasn't even a confirmed count of who of the hero students would be returning back to the path of heroism, and that alone made his chest ache.
Rika's gaze shifted to All Might and Gran Torino, her expression serious and unyielding. "There's one more thing. We need you two to go with Hideaki to speak with Kobe Arakawa's mother and sister. They've been left out of this loop long enough. They should know that the correctional facility they sent their son to was nothing of the sort."
Hideaki's eyes widened, his expression one of surprise and guilt. But he nodded, his voice low and heavy with regret. "I'll do it."
That feeling of anger simmering within the number one felt like it was about to hit a boiling point, he was trying to forget about that. His brow furrowed as he thought on his next task though.
"His sister... Yuki Arakawa, Genesis. She's a third year at UA. She's talented. I haven't had much interaction with her though." He was slightly dreading the fact that this would be the first meaningful engagement he had with one of the top third years if not for Mirio.
Rika's gaze was steady, her voice firm and still kind. "They deserve to know. And Hideaki is the one to tell them."
The room fell silent, the weight of the task settling over them like a storm cloud. All Might's expression was one quiet resolve, his hands clenched into fists. He would do what needed to be done. For the future.
The meeting ended. A bitter mix of guilt and determination bubbling up inside him. They as heroes have failed so many. But he doesn't want to fail again. His legacy has been tainted enough.
A wave of death feels like it was washing over him... but he would have to tell it to stop. His time as the Symbol of Peace is not over yet. And if death is indeed coming... he should go out with a bang.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Arakawa home was a sanctuary of warmth and comfort, All Might didn't know what he was expecting. The exterior was modern yet inviting, with clean lines and large windows that let in streams of natural light. The front yard was meticulously maintained, with a small garden of blooming flowers and a neatly trimmed lawn.
Inside the house was a reflection the matriarch's nurturing spirit—cozy, lived-in, and filled with the subtle touches of a mother's care. Kasumi Arakawa was her name. The walls of her home were decorated with framed photographs, her children were in many of them, carefree and with radiant smiles—birthdays, school events and holidays.The air of the room carried a faint scent of lavender and freshly baked bread, a testament to Kasumi's love for creating a welcoming environment.
All Might stood in the doorway, his massive frame feeling almost out of place in the homely setting. Beside him, Gran Torino and Hideaki Kurogami waited, their expressions somber. Kasumi had opened the door, her soft brown eyes were wide with surprise at the sight of the Symbol of Peace, All Might also recognized fear and worry.
Her hands fluttered nervously to her chest, and she immediately began to apologize, her voice trembling.
"Oh my, All Might, I—I'm sorry for the trouble my son has been causing. I didn't raise him to be like this."
All Might raised his hand gently, his deep voice calm but firm. "Mrs Arakawa, please, there's no need to apologize. We're not here about any crimes. We're here to talk about Kobe though."
She looked between the three men, her expression a mixture of confusion and dread. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, her demure nature warring with her maternal instincts. Finally, she stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.
"Please, come in." she said softly.
The living room was just as inviting as the rest of the house. A plush sofa sat in the center, flanked by armchairs and a low coffee table adorned with a vase of fresh flowers. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with novels, photo albums, and small trinkets. A family portrait hung above the fireplace, capturing the Arakawa's in happier times.
Before anyone could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase. Yuki descended, her expression a mix of curiosity and wariness. She was dressed casually, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, but her tired eyes betrayed the strain she had been under. Her gaze flickered between the people in the room, she had a look of surprise when she had seen All Might.
"Mom?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "What's going on?"
Kasumi turned to her daughter, her hands wringing nervously. "Yuki, these heroes... they're here to talk about Kobe."
Yuki's eyes narrowed slightly, "Speak about what exactly? His punishment? Are you just telling us pre-emptively?"
"No." Gran Torino interjected. "Hideaki actually has something to tell you two about that correctional facility he was sent to."
The room grew tense, there was anticipation in the air. Hideaki stepped forward, his broad shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world. His voice was heavy with regret as he began to speak.
"My name is Hideaki Kurogami. I'm... I am partially responsible for a program that your brother was sent to. The correctional facility was a front, it was actually a facility meant to bread heroes, it was called the Eden Project."
Hideaki took a deep breath, his hands clenched at his sides. "We took children and turned them into weapons. They experimented on them, trained them, broke them down until there was nothing left."
Hideaki dove into more of what the Eden Project was about, he didn't reveal some of what he believed was things that were too gruesome to hear, but he had gotten his point across.
Yuki's eyes widened, her strained smile faltering. "What are you talking about? Kobe was just a spoiled brat who got sent away because he couldn't behave. He made up this crap to get out of trouble. He's always been like that, never taking responsibility, never admitting when he's wrong."
Hideaki shook his head, his firm voice sounded hurt. "No. It's not a story. The Eden Project was real. What I just explained happened to him... it was real."
Yuki's voice trembled, her hands clenching into fists. "Then why did he come home at fourteen instead of twelve like when you said it ended? Where was he for those two years?"
Hideaki's gaze dropped, this was news to him as well as the heroes in the room. But considering what many of the other subjects had gotten up to they could make a few guesses.
"We don't know."
Yuki's breath hitched, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She shook her head, her voice shaky but defiant. "No. no, this is bullshit. Kobe wouldn't just let something like that happen to him."
Kasumi's tears began to flow, her hands covering her mouth as she stifled a sob. "I knew something was wrong," she whispered, her voice breaking. "They wouldn't let me visit him. They wouldn't let me call. The letters... they were so short and so cold, I thought he was just angry but—" she broke down, "I should have known. I should have tried harder."
Yuki turned to her mother, her expression a mix of anger and disbelief. "Mom, you can't seriously believe this? Kobe's been a liar. He's always been—"
"Enough Yuki!" Kasumi's voice was so sharp the people in the room thought she were another person. "Stop blaming your brother. He has been out there in pain for too long."
All Might could see that the eldest child wasn't saying anything she was saying out of spite or hate, she just seemed like she was coping.
Yuki's defiance crumbled, her shoulders slumping as tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No... no, this can't be true."
Kasumi sank onto the sofa, her hands trembling as she reached for a framed photograph on the coffee table. It was a picture of Kobe as a child, his hair shorter, his light brown eyes almost golden in the sunlight. His smile was radiant, carefree and full of life... it was so different compared to the boy that returned to her home years later, quiet, distant and broken.
"I should have known," Kasumi whispered, her voice filled with anguish. "When he came back, he wasn't the same. He was so quiet, so... empty. He didn't laugh anymore. He didn't smile. He just... existed. And I didn't know how to fix it. I didn't know how to bring my boy back."
Her tears fell freely now, her voice trembling as she continued. "I sent him away because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought he needed help. But I didn't know... I didn't know they would take him from me. They took my baby boy, they broke him. And I let them."
All Might and Gran Torino bowed their heads, their expressions heavy with sorrow. Hideaki stepped forward, his voice filled with regret. "Ms. Arakawa, this isn't your fault. We didn't know. But now that we do we will make sure everything will return back to what is right."
Kasumi shook her head, her voice breaking. "Its too late. Things won't go back to how they were. That's not how it goes. I was too weak. I sent him away."
Her voice was soft, almost poetic as she continued speaking through the tears, speaking as though she were the only one in the room. "How can I ask for forgiveness? How can I ever make this right? My baby boy... my sweet, radiant boy... they took him from me. They took his light, his laughter, his joy. And I didn't even notice until it was too late."
She clutched the photograph to her chest, her sobs shaking her entire body. "I just want him back. I want my baby boy. I want to see him smile again. I want to hear him laugh. I want to hold him and tell him how sorry I am. How much I love him. How much I've always loved him."
The room was silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. All Might stepped forward, his voice gentle but filled with resolve. "Mrs. Arakawa, we're going to bring him home. He's working with us in a roundabout way which we cannot explain. But we will make sure he is safe."
Kasumi looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and despair. "Do you think he can ever forgive me?"
All Might didn't answer. He couldn't, he never even spoke to the boy, Gran Torino never had a conversation about the child's feelings towards his mother or anything and Hideaki once only viewed him as a potential hero subject so he doubts a good answer could come from the man.
They watched as the woman sat in silence, her tears still spilling as she clung to the photograph. Hideaki stood awkwardly, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. All Might and Gran Torino exchanged a glance before bowing their heads once more.
"We're deeply sorry for everything you've been through," All Might said, his voice filled with sincerity. "We'll do everything in our power to make this right."
With that, they turned and left. The weight of the Arakawa family's pain lingering in the air long after they were gone.
***The rooftop was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like the world was holding its breath. The sky above was a deep, inky black, dotted with faint stars that struggled to pierce through the light pollution of the city below.
I lay on my back, my hands tucked behind my back staring up at the sky. The cool night air brushed against my skin, carrying with it the faint hum of the city—distant car horns, the occasional shout, the rhythmic thrum of life continuing despite everything.
The tips of my hair were now dyed a soft brown, they caught the faint glow of a nearby streetlight. I hadn't done it for any particular reason. I just wanted a change. I didn't think much of it, but Nagant did.
"The brown suits you," she said, her voice cutting through the silence. She stepped onto the rooftop, her boots clicking softly against the concrete. "Its subtle. Fits your whole mysterious vibe."
I didn't move, my gaze still fixed on the stars. "Thanks," I said simply, my voice was low and uneven.
Nagant walked over and sat down beside me, her legs dangling over the edge of the roof. She leaned back on her hands, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. For a moment, we sat in silence.
"The attacks coming soon," Nagant said finally, her tone casual but laced with something heavier. "I don't even know how to feel about it. I'm just... going along with it, I guess."
I turned my head slightly, my eyes flicking toward her. "That's the wrong way to go about it," I said, my voice calm but firm. "If you go into something like this without intention, all you'll get is sorrow, misery and a deeper fracture in how you see the world. You'll regret it later."
Nagant glanced over at me, her brow furrowing slightly. "Crying about a bad situation is inevitable. You can't avoid that."
"I know," I said, my gaze returning to the sky. "But my point still stands. Be intentional. Make your choices with clarity. That way, even if you cry later, you'll know you did what you had to do."
Nagant let out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Why are you so wise?"
I didn't respond. My mind felt groggy, like it was drifting through a fog of numbness that had settled on me. I wasn't sure why, but I just felt gloomier than usual, I think she could see that.
It just felt like a heavy, hollow feeling that had been growing in my chest. I felt... less alive, less present, less like myself.
"I don't know," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just feel... numb. More than usual."
Nagant laughed softly, the sound tinged with bitterness. "When haven't you?"
I chuckled faintly, the sound dry and humourless. "Fair point."
I thought about it for a moment, my mind drifting back to the Eden Project. Since then, there had been very few moments where I'd felt genuine emotion—real, positive emotion. Glee, love, happiness... those things felt foreign to me, like relics from a life I'd left behind. The closest I had come to that was during the Hosu Game, travelling with Yui. Those moments had been... different. Light, in a way I hadn't felt in years.
But now, thinking about her, about how she was really gone, it felt strange. Unreal. I'd never had someone close to me die. The sorrow was there, deep and heavy, but it was trapped inside me, unable to surface. I hated it. Hated that I couldn't cry, couldn't scream, couldn't do anything but feel it festering in my chest.
"Everything feels darker since Daigo Kiyoshi revealed himself." Nagant said, and she was right, it didn't matter how dead the man was, he left his impact. "What we're about to do on Hero's Eve... its only going to make it worse."
I turned my head to look at her, my expression calm but serious. "That's why we need to be intentional," I said. "We can't just go through the motions. We have to own what we're doing, even if its ugly. Even if it hurts."
Nagant met my gaze, her sharp eyes searching my face. For a moment, she said nothing, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire. Then, I sat up, my movements slow and deliberate. I glanced around, though I already knew no one was listening. Still, I leaned closer to Nagant, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"I need you to do something for me," I said. "During the attack... I need you to kill Koku."
Nagant's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't pull away. "Koku? Why?"
I wasn't going to explain the reason, it was something she would figure out on her own. But for me, I did want to handle it on my own, but I guess my mind had another plan out for me.
Nagant studied me for a long moment, her expression was unreadable. My mind was hazy, I don't know why, but it feels like I'm in a constant state of grief. My heart raced the longer I stared at her. It was uncomfortable but I welcomed it, I wanted to know what was going on...
"Alright. I'll get it done." She said. As she said that, the tension left my body. Something was lost.
I leaned back, my shoulders were relaxed. "Good."
We sat in silence for a while. The city below continued to hum, oblivious to the storm brewing on the horizon. I glanced at my phone, the date was staring back at me: November 30th.
"We're entering a new stage of plight now."
I laid back down, my hands returning back to their place behind my head. The stars above seemed dimmer now, their light struggling to reach me through the haze of my thoughts. I closed my eyes, letting the cool night air wash over me. For a moment I allowed myself to feel the weight of everything—the sorrow, the numbness and whatever else was allowing me to keep moving forward.
24 days until Hero's Eve:
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The bathroom was small, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and soap. Bakugou stood in front of the mirror, his hands gripping the edges of the sink so tightly his knuckles turned white. His reflection stared back at him, a gaunt, hollow version of the boy he used to be. His spiky blonde hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and his crimson eyes burned with a mixture of anger and disgust.
The scars faded quick, just as Recovery Girl had said they would. The cuts and bruises that were just on his skin were now faint lines, pale prints that wouldn't ever fully disappear. Good, he thought. But also bad.
It was a reminder of his weakness. His eyes lingered on the most prominent scar, carved into his stomach the name of the maniacal girl that had spent the most time tormenting him. The name, one which he doesn't want to whisper, it was faint now.
He could still feel the cold bite of the knife, the searing pain as she carved her mark onto him. His stomach churned, and he looked away, his jaw clenched.
"Weak," he muttered under his breath, his tone was laced with venom. "you're so damn weak."
He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face in an attempt to wash away the memories. But they clung to him like a second skin, refusing to be scrubbed clean. He could still hear Toga's laughter, high-pitched and manic, echoing in his mind. He could still feel her hands on him, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered her twisted affections.
He shuddered, his hands trembling as he gripped the sink tighter.
A knock on the door startled him, and he straightened, his expression hardening. "What?" he snapped, his voice was sharp and defensive.
"Katsuki?" His father's voice was soft, hesitant. "Can I come in?"
Bakugou hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the mirror. He quickly pulled on a loose t-shirt, hiding the scars from view, before yanking the door open. His father stood there, his hands clasped awkwardly in front of him, his expression a mix of concern and uncertainty.
Masaru Bakugou was a quiet man, his demeanour a stark contrast to his wife's fiery temperament. He had always been the calmer, more patient parent, but his quiet presence often felt more neglectful than comforting to Bakugou.
"What do you want?" Bakugou asked, his tone clipped as he brushed past his father and headed to his room.
Masaru followed, closing the bathroom door behind him. "I just wanted to check on you." he said, his voice was gentle. "You've been in your room a lot since... since you got back. I thought that maybe you'd want to talk or something."
Bakugou sat on the edge of his bed, his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm fine," he said, his voice flat. "I don't need to talk."
Masaru hesitated, his gaze flickering around the room before settling on his son. "Katsuki, I know you've been through a lot. And I know you're strong, stronger than most. But... I think you're rushing too far ahead of yourself. You need to take a step back and process everything that's happened."
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened. "I don't need to process anything," he said, his voice rising. "I'm fine. I don't need you or anyone telling me what to do."
Masaru sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I just... I think it might help to talk to someone. A therapist, maybe. Someone who can help you work through everything."
Bakugou scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "A therapist? You think I need some quack to tell me how to feel? I don't need help. I don't need anyone."
Masaru's expression softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Katsuki, I know you don't like to admit when you're struggling. But it's okay to ask for help. It doesn't make you weak."
Bakugou's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "I'm not weak," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't need your pity or your advice. I'm fine."
Masaru hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I just... I want you to know that your mother and I are here for you. Whatever you need, we'll support you."
Bakugou's chest tightened, a flicker of something raw and painful bubbling up inside him. He pushed it down, burying it beneath layers of anger and pride. "I don't need your support," he said, his voice cold. "I don't need anything from you."
Masaru flinched, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Katsuki, I know I haven't always been the best father. I know I've let you down in a lot of ways. But I'm trying. I just want to help you."
Bakugou's jaw tightened, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and something else, something he couldn't quite name. "You can't help me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No one can."
The room fell silent, the weight of Bakugou's words hanging heavy in the air. Masaru looked at his son, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and regret. "Katsuki... I," he hesitated, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
Bakugou looked away, his gaze fixed on the wall. He doesn't like to look at people pitying him. He didn't want to hear concerned voices. He just wanted to be left alone.
Masaru sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned to leave. "I'll let you rest," he said quietly. "But if you need anything... just let me know."
Bakugou didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he stared at the wall. He heard the door close softly behind him, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands were trembling, his chest tight with a mix of anger and... he didn't know.
He stood abruptly, pacing the room as his mind raced. His father's words echoed in his head, fueling the fire of his rage. "Weak," he muttered under his breath, his hands clenching into fists. "You're so damn weak."
He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with hollow eyes. He hates how he let so much bad happen to him. For not being able to fight back. He hated Toga, for marking him, for taking away his control. He hated the League for kidnapping him, for making him powerless. He hated the heroes for not saving him sooner. He hated everything.
His chest heaved as his rage boiled over, his hands trembling at his sides. He wanted to scream, to destroy something, to make someone pay. But there was no one there to take his anger out on, no one but himself.
"I'm not weak," he growled, his voice hit a dangerous low. "I'm not."
He sank into the edge of his bed, his head in his hands as the weight of everything crashed down on him. He felt claustrophobic, trapped in his own mind, in his own body.
Another knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he straightened, his expression hardening. "What now!?" he snapped.
Masaru opened the door, his expression hesitant. "I forgot to mention something," he said quietly. "We got an email from your principal. UA is being rebuilt, but they've given parents the option to transfer their kids to other schools if they want. Your mother and I... we thought maybe it would be a good idea for you to go somewhere else. Somewhere safer."
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists. "I'm not transferring," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not quitting."
Masaru hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor. "Katsuki, I know you're strong. I know you can handle yourself. But... after everything that's happened, we just want you to be safe."
Bakugou's chest tightened, his rage boiling over. "You think I'm some coward who runs away when things get tough. I'm gonna be the number one hero, no matter what it takes."
Masaru flinched, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Katsuki, I'm not saying you're a coward. I just don't want to see you get hurt again."
Bakugou's hands trembled at his sides, his vision blurring with rage. "I don't care what you want," he snarled, his voice shaking. "I'm not dropping out of UA. I'm not quitting. And I'm not weak."
Masaru opened his mouth to respond, but Katsuki cut him off, his voice rising to a shout. "I'm gonna be the number one hero, and I'm gonna make those bastards pay. Every single one of them. I'm gonna string them up and burn them alive. I'm gonna make them regret ever laying a hand on me."
The room fell silent, the weight of Bakugou's words hanging heavy in the air. Masaru looked at his son, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and fear. "Katsuki..." he began, his voice trembling.
But Bakugou didn't wait for him to finish. He turned away, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at the wall. "Get out," he said. "I don't want to talk anymore."
Masaru hesitated, his gaze lingering on his son for a moment longer before he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.
Bakugou held his breath in and listened to his fathers heavy footsteps trail down the stairs. He counted with every breath and when he was sure that he was far enough away, he got up, walked to his door, and opened it ajar... but only slightly.
***Minoru Mineta sat cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by a mountain of manga volumes, snack wrappers, and a few strategically placed posters of female heroes in... lets just say,
dynamic poses. His room was a shrine to his two greatest loves, laziness and the admiration of women.
The walls were plastered with posters, the shelves overflowing with figurines, and the floor was a minefield of discarded clothes and empty soda cans. It was a mess, but it his mess, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
He leaned back against his pillow, flipping through the latest volume of
Crimson Heroines, his favourite manga series. The protagonist, a busty heroine with a penchant for dramatic poses, was currently in the middle of a climactic battle. Mineta sighed dreamily, his eyes glazing over as he imagined himself in the hero's place, saving the day and winning the hearts of adoring fans.
"Ah, if only real life were like this," he muttered, tossing the manga aside. "Heroines, action, and no actual danger. Perfect."
His thoughts drifted to his parents, who were downstairs probably arguing about something trivial. His mother, Yumi, was the worrier of the family, always fussing over him, always reminding him to eat his vegetables and stop ogling women. She had a sharp tongue and an even sharper glare, but her love for him was undeniable.
His father, Hiroshi, on the other hand, was the laid-back jokester of the family. He egged on his kids antics, often laughing at his son's perverted remarks and telling his mother that it was "just a phase." Mineta loved them both dearly, even if they drove him up the wall sometimes.
"Minoru!" his mother's voice called from downstairs, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Dinner's ready! And don't even think about bringing that manga to the table!"
Mineta groaned, reluctantly dragging himself off the bed. "Coming, Mom!" he shouted back, grabbing a crumpled shirt off the floor and sniffing it experimentally. "Eh, good enough."
As he made his way downstairs, he couldn't help but smile at the familiar sounds of his parents bickering. His mother was scolding his father for something, probably forgetting to take out the trash which he tried passing on to his son walking down the stairs. His father laughed it off with his usual carefree attitude.
This was his home.
"Minoru, sit down," his mother said as he entered the kitchen, her hands on her hips. "And for heaven's sake, put on a clean shirt. You look like a hooligan."
Mineta rolled his eyes but obeyed, plopping down at the table. His father winked at him, holding up a spoon like a microphone. "So, Minoru, any new crushes at school?"
Mineta's face turned red. He was fine with his dad's jokes but sometimes when he got into the act of things he cringed a little, he was just glad he never done it outside as much.
His mother groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Hiroshi, stop encouraging him. Minoru, you need to stop objectifying your classmates. It's disrespectful."
Mineta pouted, stabbing at his food with his fork. "I'm not objectifying anyone! I'm just... appreciating their beauty. There's a difference."
His father chuckled. "Always looking on the bright side."
His mother shot them both a glare. "You're both impossible."
The rest of dinner passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and the occasional scolding from his mother. Mineta loved these moments, the easy banter, the warmth of his family, the feeling of being... normal. But as the meal ended and he retreated back to his room, his thoughts turned to a decision he was going to have to make about his future.
His mom brought it up. That his principal had said the school will be rebuilt and a decision needs to be made about if they will return or not.
Mineta sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the ceiling. The question had been weighing on him for days, ever since Nezu's email had arrived. Did he want to go back to UA? His parents had made it clear they didn't want him to. His mother had cried when he came back the day of the plane attack. She begged him to quit and think of a "safer" option, like hero work was supposed to be easy.
But then again, Mineta feels that he somewhat expected it to be so. But how could he not, there hadn't been such big attacks in all his time of living, they seemed to only pop up out of nowhere.
"Minoru," his father was in the room telling him goodnight, he'd placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've been through a lot. It's okay to take a step back. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."
But Mineta wasn't so sure. He thought about his time at UA, the good, the bad and the downright terrifying. He thought about the USJ attack, the Hosu Game, the plane attack... every time, he'd been scared out of his mind even if he wasn't close to danger.
He'd run, he'd hide, he'd done whatever it took to survive. And every time, he'd felt like a failure.
His classmates weren't like that, Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki, the strongest picks but still. They were everything he wasn't. Strong, brave and confident when it counted. They also just had quirks that were made for battle, bodies built for action.
They would become the kind of heroes people would look up to, the kind who saved the day without a second thought. And then there was him. Mineta Minoru, the grape-headed pervert with a quirk that was... well, lets just say it wasn't the flashiest, especially compared to the other three.
He envied them. He envied their strength, their confidence, their ability to face danger head-on. He envied the way they fit in, the way they belonged. He didn't feel like he belonged. Not really. He was the comic relief, the sidekick, the guy who made everyone laugh but never took seriously. And as much as he tried to brush it off, it hurt.
He thought about the fun times too though. The sports festival, he enjoyed that. Dorm life was fun too, the late-night study sessions, the joking around with Kaminari and Sero, the pranks they pulled on their dormmates which landed them in detention one too many times.
But then the attacks. The fear, the chaos, the feeling of being utterly powerless. He thought about Bakugou, kidnapped and tortured by the League, even though they got confirmation that he was back now, alive and well, it still happened, a villain group nabbed a hero student right from under them.
"Why did I want to be a hero?" he muttered, staring at his hands. "Was it just for the attention? For the girls? Or was it something more?"
He didn't know. He'd never really thought on it before. Being a hero just seemed fun, fantastical, a way to get famous, to be someone important. But now, faced with the reality of it, he wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't like Midoriya, who just wanted to save people and make them smile, or Uraraka, who wanted to earn money and help her family, his family was fine and relatively well-off.
He wasn't like Bakugou who had an endless drive to be number 1 in everything he done. Or Todoroki and Iida, who both wanted to prove something to themselves and their families. He was just... Mineta. And he didn't know if that was enough.
The next morning, Mineta found himself standing in the kitchen, his parents sitting at the table, their expressions a mix of concern and anticipation. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Mom, Dad," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I've made my decision."
His mother's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out to take his hand. "Minoru..."
His father nodded, his expression serious. "We're listening, son."
Mineta took another deep breath, his hands clenched at his sides. "I... I don't think I'm cut out to be a hero. I'm not strong like the others. I'm not brave. I'm just... me. And I don't think that's enough."
His mother's tears spilled over, and she pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh Minoru, you're more than enough. You're my son, and I'm so proud of you."
His father placed a hand on his shoulder, his soft voice carried through. "You're brave in your own way, Minoru. It takes courage to admit when something isn't right for you. And no matter what you choose, we'll always be here for you."
Mineta felt a lump in his throat, his vision blurring with tears. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice was breaking.
His mother hugged him tighter, her tears soaking into his shirt. "You don't have to be sorry, Minoru. You've done more than enough. We just want you to be safe."
Safety, with his mother and father. He didn't know what his future would be anymore, he was lucky just to get into UA in the first place. His heart was heavy but his mind was clear.
He will be fine, this is just a minor setback in life, he'll continue to move forward.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The secluded area was a forgotten corner of the city, a narrow alleyway tucked between two crumbling buildings that seemed to lean toward each other as if sharing a secret. Gran Torino stood a few feet away, his small frame silhouetted against the faint glow of a flickering streetlight. His arms were crossed, his expression was unreadable, but there was a weight to his presence that made the space feel smaller.
I leaned against the wall, my hands in my pockets, the cool brick pressing into my back. Gran Torino broke the silence first.
"Thanks for the intel on Bakugou," he said, his tone carrying a rare note of gratitude. "It helped. We got him back."
I nodded, a simple, mechanical motion. "Good."
There wasn't much else to say. Bakugou's rescue was their victory. Nothing to me, maybe a slight inconvenience to the League. The wold kept spinning, the gears of fate grinding forward, and I was just another cog in that machine. Gran Torino's eyes weirdly lingered on me for a moment. He sighed before he looked away.
"Nothing much on my end," I said, filling the silence. "Just the same chatter about the League still in their planning phases of attacks they want done. They want to rile up you heroes before Hero's Eve."
Gran Torino didn't respond immediately. His gaze distant, his expression softening in a way that made him look older, more worn. He was quiet for so long that I almost thought he hadn't heard me. But then he spoke, his voice carrying a weight that made the air feel heavier.
"You know," he began, his tone thoughtful, "you've got heroic spirit. I see it in you. The way you carry yourself, the way you keep pushing forward, no matter what. It reminds me of someone I used to know."
I didn't respond. We weren't here to reminisce on the past. His words were like stones dropped in a pond, ripples spreading outward, but I refused to let them touch me. Heroic Spirit? That wasn't me. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't anything. Just a shadow moving through the world.
Gran Torino didn't seem to mind my silence. He kept talking, his voice steady and almost nostalgic. "Her name was Nana Shimura. She was a hero, one of the best I've ever known. Strong, selfless, always putting others before herself. She faced every challenge head-on, no matter how impossible it seemed. She never backed down, never gave up."
"So what, you gonna tell me I remind you of her?" I asked.
"Yeah, you kind of do."
That was funny, being compared to some dead hero. A paragon of virtue. I doubt that I am like her. I wasn't like anyone I have met. I'm just me. Or is that me being arrogant.
Gran Torino's gaze shifted back to me. "You have a fire in you. I just hope that it does not come to bite those of us on this side on the backside, cause it definitely is there."
I looked away.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding. Gran Torino didn't push, didn't press. He just stood there, his presence a quiet anchor in the storm of my thoughts. And then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice was softer, more hesitant.
"We went to see your mother and sister the other day."
My heart stopped. Just for a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis, the moment he said that I already knew what it was he was going to carry on to say. The reason why he was there.
Gran Torino's voice was steady, but there was a gentleness to it that made my skin crawl. "We told them about the Eden Project. About what happened."
I felt it then, a surge of something raw and hot, rage. It burned through me, searing my veins, clawing at the edges of my mind. My heart was pounding now, a frantic rhythm that echoed in my ears. My head felt like it was expanding and was ready to burst.
So I stayed still, my expression had gone blank. I wouldn't give any signifying factor showing me break. I wouldn't give anyone that.
Gran Torino kept talking, his voice was low. "You mother... she didn't know. She thought she was sending you somewhere that would help you. A behavioural facility, nothing more."
I cut him off, my voice cold and sharp, like a blade slicing through the air. "It doesn't matter."
He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, it doesn't matter," I repeated, my tone flat, emotionless. "Any parent who packs up their kid and sends them off to some unknown place without doing their research, without knowing what they're getting into... they didn't care enough. They didn't care enough to make sure it was safe. They didn't care enough to protect me."
The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I forced them out anyway. I didn't want to talk about this. I didn't want to think about it. It was over. It was done. It was a bad memory, nothing more.
Gran Torino's expression softened, his gaze filled with something that looked like pity. "Kobe..."
"I don't care," I said again, cutting him off again. My voice was steady, but there was a tremor beneath the surface, a crack in the armour I'd built around myself. "I don't need her remorse. And I don't need her guilt. It's over. It's just a bad dream, and one day, it'll fade. One day, it'll just be a blip, something I barely remember. And then it'll be gone."
The silence that followed was deafening. Gran Torino didn't respond, didn't argue He just stood there, his eyes fixed on me, his expression unreadable. I could feel the weight of his gaze, the pressure of his silence, but I refused to look at him. I refused to let him see the cracks, the features, the parts of me that were still broken.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again. "Memories are important Kobe."
I didn't react. I didn't even look to him. I had no need for some old man's wisdom, some tired lecture about the past. But Gran Torino just kept talking, his voice steady and his words carried a weight that was hard to ignore.
"They're the backbone of who we are," he said. "The good ones, the bad ones... they all matter. The bad ones remind us of what we've survived, what we've endured. They show us how strong we are, how much we've overcome. And the good ones... they keep the people we love close to us, even when they're gone. They teach us who we are, what we value, what we're fighting for."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I don't like thinking on what I've endured, what I had to endure. I just wanted to keep moving, keep fighting until there was nothing left of me.
But Gran Torino's voice was like a magnet forcing me to face the things I'd been running from. "You can't run from memories, child. They're a part of you. They've shaped you, made you who you are. And that's not a bad thing. There's beauty in endurance, in survival. There's strength in remembering."
I felt like I was falling. Suffocating, while someone was choking me. The weight of everything I'd been carrying was pulling me under, dragging me down to that same dark place.
Slowly, I turned away. I didn't want to look at him anymore. He was a kind man, and in some ways I did appreciate this. But in the moment, I couldn't see the aid in any of what he was saying.
"I'm fine." I told him, my voice was so low I would be surprised if he heard me when I first spoke. "I don't need your help."
I left the elderly man, there was nothing left to be informed of.
***The gates of UA loomed before Midoriya like a fortress reborn. The once familiar entrance had been transformed, its sleek, modern design now fortified with layers of security that made it feel more like a military compound than a school. The towering gates were reinforced with thick steel, their surfaces gleaming under the morning sun.
Above them, a network of cameras swiveled silently, their lenses scanning every inch of the perimeter. Midoriya could see the faint glow of laser grids crisscrossing the air, invisible to the naked eye but deadly to anyone foolish enough to breach them.
His mother stood beside him, her hands clutching the straps of her purse tightly. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with worry as she looked at the imposing structure. "Are you sure about this, Izuku?" she asked, her voice trembling. "After everything that's happened... I just don't think this is a safe option anymore."
Midoriya turned to her, his expression soft but resolute. "I have to do this, Mom." he said gently. "This is where I belong. This is where I can become the her I want to be."
She hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue. She knew better than anyone how stubborn her son could be when it came to his dream of being a hero. With a sigh, she reached out and adjusted the collar of his uniform, her fingers trembling slightly. "Just... be careful, please. Promise me you will at least try to fight for yourself first."
It was hard for Midoriya to even think that. He had told her he would, he had told her that he would act better and listen to his teachers more. But he struggled to even believe that those words came out of his mouth.
"I promise," Midoriya said. He gave her a small smile, hoping to ease her fears, but the weight of her concern lingered in the air between them. She didn't know about One For All, about the power he carried and the responsibility that came with it. He didn't need to tell her. Not yet.
As she drove away, Midoriya turned back to the school, his heart pounding in his chest. The new security measures were impossible to ignore. Armed guards patrolled the grounds, their uniforms crisp and professional, their eyes sharp and alert.
They moved with precision, their movements were synchronized as they scanned the area for any signs of danger. Midoriya could see the faint glint of their weapons, holstering at their sides but ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.
The school itself had been rebuilt from the ground up, its design both practical and innovative. The walls were reinforced with a special alloy that could withstand even a superpowered hit from All Might, obviously he could still break through it if he wanted to... he was All Might.
The windows were made of shatterproof material that could deflect bullets and explosions. The roof was lined with solar panels, their surfaces gleamed under the sunlight, providing the school with a sustainable source of energy. Midoriya could see that drones, similar to the on-ground robots, had taken to the sky, they were patrolling, only during the day, he remembers so from the emails the school sent out.
As he walked through the gates, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. This was still UA, still the place where he had fought so hard to prove himself, but it felt different now. The air was heavier, the atmosphere more tense. The students he passed were quieter, their faces more serious, and there were less than it naturally was.
His heart sank when he read that Mineta had decided to leave the hero course. He wasn't incredibly close to him, but he felt bad that someone couldn't find solace in their dream anymore and could only leave it as a part of their past. But somehow he felt that it was probably better this way, especially for someone like Mineta.
As he approached the classroom, his mind wandered to Bakugou. He hadn't seen him, hadn't heard from him either obviously but neither have any of his friends. He wondered if Bakugou would be there, if he would even come back after everything he had been through. Or how long he would last.
He pushed the door open to his classroom, the heavy metal frame sliding silently on its hinges. The room was full, every seat occupied, but the atmosphere was anything but lively. The air was thick with a somber silence, the kind that made it hard to breathe.
Midoriya's eyes immediately found Bakugou, sitting by the window, in his normal seat, with his back to the room. His posture was rigid, his shoulders tense, but he didn't turn to look as Midoriya entered.
The rest of the class was quiet, their faces drawn and tired. Midoriya could see the shadows under their eyes, the way their shoulders slumped under the weight of everything they had been through. They looked... different. Broken, in a way that made his chest ache. He took his seat quietly, his eyes scanning the room as he tried to gauge the mood.
Todoroki sat in his usual spot, his expression unreadable, his eyes distant. Uraraka was next to him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her usual smile replaced by a look of seriousness and scrutiny. Iida was sat at the front of the room, his posture was stiff, his glasses reflecting the light in a way that made it hard to see his eyes.
His friends looked miserable.
Even Kirishima was slumped in his seat, exhausted. Kaminari was quiet, resting his head on his hand as he stared blankly forward.
Everyone had been through so much. The events with Proxy, the attack on the school, the kidnapping of Bakugou... its taken its toll. They were still here, fighting, but the light had dimmed. Their world had gotten darker.
He thought about his mother, about the way she had begged him not to come back. He had pleaded with her, had promised her that he would be careful, that he would come home safe each and every time. He wondered how many of his classmates had the same conversations with their families. How many of them had fought to be here, to keep chasing their dreams.
The door slid open again, and Aizawa stepped into the room. His usual tired expression was even more pronounced, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. He looked at the class, his gaze sweeping over each of them, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something that looked like pride, or maybe just relief.
"Welcome back," he said, his voice was low. "Its good to see you all here."
The room was silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Midoriya felt a lump in his throat, his chest tightening with emotion. They were here. They were still here.
"Bakugou," Aizawa said in a slightly higher tone, Bakugou turned to him but looked right back out the window only giving short glanced out the corner of his eyes. "I am glad you are back safe and sound. After class please head to the principals office."
It wasn't the tone that said he was in trouble, but then again, in trouble for what. Bakugou nodded and continued to stay silent.
Aizawa continued to speak.
"As you all know some students have decided to leave. One from this class." Not many showed a reaction, Mineta was kind of looked at as a nuisance from some of the class. "There is more though, because of the loss of life and the amount of students who have asked for a resignation from UA, the only courses left in this school are the support course and obviously the hero course."
Midoriya's eyebrows lifted in surprise. That was why there were so few students he could see when walking through the halls earlier. He felt a little sad, but he understood the importance.
"This is a hero school." Aizawa started again. "One that has been targeted over and over. And no matter what we do, it may happen again."
That didn't do much to help the already anxious people in the room.
"But those of you here decided to stick through. Brave. But that isn't all that will be needed for what we are all about to face. We are most certainly not out of the mud yet!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The weight of the world pressed down on Aizawa's shoulders as he stood at the front of the classroom, his tired eyes scanning the faces of his students. The room was silent, the kind of silence that was heavy and oppressive. He could see the shadows under their eyes, the way their shoulders slumped, the way their hands trembled ever so slightly.
They were just kids. Kids who had been through too much at such a young age, lost too much of their innocence that they had at the beginning of the year. And now, he had to tell them that it wasn't over. That it was only going to get worse.
He took a deep breath, the scent of clay and concrete filled his lungs, the smell was from the recently built building. The classroom felt smaller now. He was starting to hate this teaching job. But the world was what it was, and all they could do was try to survive it.
"As you all know," he began, "some students have decided to leave. One from out class."
The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. He saw the way some of them glanced at Mineta's empty seat, the way their expressions flickered with something that wasn't quite sadness but it wasn't relief either. Mineta had been... difficult. A nuisance, some might say. But he was still one of them. Still a part of the class. And now he was gone.
Aizawa continued, his voice carrying a weight that made the room feel even smaller. "There's more. Because of the loss of life and the number of students who have asked for a resignation from UA, the only courses left in this school are the support course and obviously, the hero course."
Midoriya's eyebrows lifted in surprise, his green eyes widening as he processed the information. Aizawa could see the way his mind was working, the way he was already trying to piece together the implications.
"This is a hero school," Aizawa said. "One that had been targeted over and over again. And no matter what we do, it may happen again."
The words felt like a punch to the gut, the weight of them settling over the room like a shroud. He could see the way some of them flinched, the way their hands clenched into fists, the way their eyes darkened with fear and determination. They were scared. Of course they were scared. But they were still here. Still fighting. Still trying.
"But those of you here decided to stick through," Aizawa said, his voice softening ever so slightly. "Brave. But that isn't all that will be needed for what we are all about to face. We are most certainly not out of the mud yet."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room, taking in the way they sat a little straighter, their eyes a little sharper. They were listening. They were ready. But they didn't know what was coming. Not really.
"We've received information," he started again. "that the League of Villains is planning a major attack on Hero's Eve. And they won't be alone. They'll be working alongside the remnants of Destro's Liberation Army."
The room erupted into mutters, the silence shattered by the sound of their voices, low and anxious. Aizawa could see the way their eyes widened, the way their hands trembled, the way their breaths quickened. They were scared. Of course they were scared. But they were still here. Still fighting. Still trying.
"Wait," Kaminari said, his voice was shaky, "Destro's Liberation Army? I thought they were gone."
"They were," Yaoyorozu said, her voice was calm but firm. "But remnants of their ideology and their forces have persisted. They've probably just been waiting for a moment to strike."
Aizawa nodded, his expression was grim. "Exactly. This isn't just an attack. Its a war. And we're on the front lines."
The room fell silent again, the weight of his words settling over them like a storm cloud. He could see the way their faces paled, the way their hands clenched into their fists, the way their eyes darkened with fear and determination.
"What do we have to do?" Yaoyorozu asked, her voice steady but laced with desperation.
Aizawa hesitated, his chest tightening as he looked at her. She was too young. They all were. Too young to be carrying this kind of weight. But he didn't have a choice. They didn't have a choice.
"Hero students from the top two schools in the country will be asked to fight," he said. "Your main objective will be to evacuate civilians. But the chance of you getting into a fight with dangerous villains are high... about 70%. But the choice to be there is yours."
He would make sure to at least give them that.
"Why is this event still happening?" Iida asked, his voice was demanding. "If we know there's going to be an attack, why not cancel it?"
Aizawa's jaw tightened, his chest aching as he looked at Iida. He didn't know why completely, he thinks it could be the governments corruption, but he can't tell them speculations.
"The school and I haven't been given the full details," he said, "But government officials want the event to go forward. It's possible they believe that it's important to show the heroes and the right side of the country are still strong."
The words felt hollow, even to him.
"Hero training will take place every day," he continued, his voice firm but not unkind. "You'll be training with class B regularly so you can get used to working in teams and changing tactics. Everyone will also be testing unique communication devices."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room.
"This is the final chance for those who want to leave to do so," he said. "If you want out, now is the time."
The room was silent.After a solid minute with no moving, Aizawa nodded, his chest tightening with something that felt like pride. "Alright. Head to the gyms for training with Snipe."
As they filed out of the room, Aizawa's gaze lingered on Bakugou, who was still sitting by the window. "Bakugou," he called out. "Visit Nezu before you head to training."
Bakugou nodded, his expression unreadable, but he didn't turn to look at Aizawa. He just stood and followed the others out of the room, his movements were stiff and deliberate.
When the door shut and Aizawa was left alone in the classroom, he felt the weight of everything pressing down on him, crushing him, suffocating him. His rigid body started to stutter, his hands trembling as he put away some files, his movements slow and deliberate.
He felt like breaking down, like screaming, like crying. Everything felt like it was piling up on him, the weight of it all too much to bear.
So he just stood there. He was a hero. Heroes were left with broken hearts, battered and bruised bodies and even endless trauma, yet all they can do is continue to keep moving forward. Like real heroes.
That was all any of them could do. Keep fighting. Keep trying. Even though the world is falling apart. Even when his chest was caving in and his head felt so foggy with only negative thoughts that wanted to consume him.
He would endure, because he is a hero.
***The principals office, was a place Bakugou had never liked, whether that was before the school had to be rebuilt or even in his old school. It was too quiet, to plain and expectant, too... off. The walls were lined with bookshelves, their contents meticulously organized, each spine perfectly aligned.
The desk was a polished slab of dark wood, its surface was gleaming under the fluorescent lights. There was a cup of tea on the desk, still hot, the faint smell wafted through the room.
And then there was Nezu.
The principal sat behind his desk, his small frame dwarfed by the massive chair he occupied. His beady eyes gleamed with an unsettling intelligence, his gaze sharp and unyielding as it fixed on Bakugou.
There was something about the principals eyes that made Bakugou feel like he was being dissected, like Nezu could see every crack, every flaw, every weakness... Like he was ripping him out of his garments, just like
they had done. It made him want to scream at the little animal, to do something to break the oppressive silence that hung in the air.
But he didn't. He just stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw was tight and his eyes narrowed. He didn't like this. Didn't like the way the principal was looking at him, didn't like the feeling of the room.
"Bakugou," Nezu said finally. "I've placed you in a slot to meet with Hound Dog. He's our school counselor, and I believe it would be beneficial for you to speak with him."
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his chest tightening with anger. "The hell I need a therapist for?" he snapped, his voice sharp and biting. "I'm fine. I don't need some quack poking around my head."
Nezu's expression didn't change, his gaze steady and unyielding. "This isn't a suggestion, Bakugou. Its a requirement. Your mother sent an extensive email to the school detailing her concerns. She wants the best for you, and she's made it clear that she expects us to provide it."
Bakugou's breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with something that felt like disappointment. His mother. Of course it was his mother. But he doesn't feel this came from a place of genuine concern or care, she just wanted him to to be perfect in her vision, she demanded excellence.
A traumatized kid that is still technically under her roof and jurisdiction has to be as perfect as can be.
She didn't trust him to get better on his own.
He clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms. "I don't need this," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't need her sticking her nose in my business."
Nezu's gaze softened ever so slightly, his tone gentle but firm. "Bakugou, what you've been through... it's not something anyone, especially one as young as yourself, should ever have to go through. And since we failed to prevent it, we will make sure you don't have to go through the aftermath on your own." He stopped, the words were very sympathetic, but for some reason Bakugou just couldn't hear it in the little animals tone.
He could see it in the gazes of his classmates, he could hear it in their whispers. But from the living being in front of him, it sounded more like he was struggling to do so.
"Your mother is worried about you. And so are we. This isn't a punishment. Its an opportunity. A chance for you to process everything that has happened, to find a way to move forward."
Bakugou didn't react. He just stood there, his chest heaving, his mind racing. He didn't want this. Didn't want to sit in some stuffy room and spill his guts to some stranger. Didn't want to admit that... that he wasn't as fine as he was pretending to be.
But he didn't have a choice.
"Fine," he said finally, his voice low and grudging. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to magically get better. That'll only happen when the League are all dead."
Nezu nodded. He wore a light smile, a smile that seemed like he was happy that some menial task was just done. "That's great."
The room fell silent again, the weight of the conversation settling over them like a shroud. Bakugou could feel Nezu's eyes on him, sharp and unyielding, and it made his skin crawl. He wanted to leave, to get out of this suffocating room, to put as much distance between himself and Nezu as possible.
But before he could move, Nezu spoke again. "Bakugou, I want to apologize. For not being able to find you sooner. For not being able to protect you. What happened... it should have never been. And I'm sorry."
Bakugou's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. This was probably the most sincere the principal was. But he didn't know what to say. The apology just felt... pointless. Like it was too little too late. It didn't change anything.
"Whatever," he muttered finally, his voice low and dismissive. "Can I go now?"
Nezu nodded, "Of course. You're expected at training with Snipe. Don't be late."
He walked out of the room, his movements stiff and deliberate. The door shut behind him with a soft click, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding
The hallway was quiet, the air cool and crisp against his skin. He could hear the faint hum of the school, the distant chatter of the few classes still within the school, the birds chirping outside and more, but it all felt so far away, like it was happening in another world.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I hated that talk with Gran Torino. The old man's constant probing makes my skin crawl. Its like now that he knows of my past and my reluctance to accept that not just he knows it, its like he's pushing for more, more details, more information, more
me.
I should've kept my composure better in our last conversation. I let my annoyance slip, it wasn't to a level that someone like Bakugou would go crazy, but it was still annoying, the moment kept replaying in my mind.
And then there was my mother. She and my sister both know of my experiences at the Eden Project. I didn't like that, I don't want her to apologize, I was completely fine with moving forward, on my own.
"You're quiet today," Dabi's voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and mocking. "Thinking about your mommy?"
I didn't respond. I didn't even look at him. We were crammed in the back of a van with a handful of minor villains, all of us waiting for the signal. These idiots are nervous, their eyes were darting around like they were expecting heroes to burst in at any moment.
They were amateurs, cannon fodder at best. But Dabi? He's calm, almost bored, like this is just another day at the office.
I glance out the window. The Ryukyu agency loomed in the distance in the blue-grey sky. I didn't think that they'd start off their attacks against a hero from the top 10. Destro wanted me in on this, a way to test the waters.
"Relax." Dabi says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We're not here to fight her. The mobs job is to create chaos. The two of us are looking for files. See if the heroes know anything. Easy."
I nod my head. Ryukyu's worked close with my sister before. She's been interning with Gang Orca for months which has allowed her to work with Ryukyu. I really hope she is not here. I'd rather not face her.
Dabi smirks, his scarred face twisting into something ugly. "You look nervous. Scared of a little breaking and entering?"
I ignored him again, but he doesn't let it go. He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Don't worry, kid. I'll protect you."
I shove him away, my voice low and cold. "Back off."
He laughs, a harsh, grating sound that makes my teeth ache. "Touchy, touchy. Fine, have it your way. But when we're in there, you're following my lead. Got it?"
I don't answer. My mind already elsewhere, thinking about Gran Torino, about the information I gave him. I told him about the League's plans. He said he'd get word out, that the heroes would be ready. But if they're ready, if they're onto us, then this mission could go sideways fast. Gran Torino could have already mentioned me to some of the heroes, it would be bad if they have filed that.
Dabi's voice pulled me back. "You're spacing out again. Focus. We're on the clock."
I nod, forcing myself to stay present. The van slows to a stop, and Dabi cracks the door open, peering out. "There she is," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I follow his gaze. Ryukyu soars overhead, her massive dragon form cutting through the skyline like a blade.
"Lets move." Dabi says, slipping out of the van. I follow, my heart pounding in my chest. It was a feeling I wasn't used to anymore. The streets turned to chaos, the mob had already spread out quickly.
We move quickly, sticking to the walls. The Ryukyu agency is just ahead, its glass doors shattered, the lobby was empty. Dabi gestures for me to follow, and we slip inside, out footsteps echoing in silence.
The agency is a maze of hallways and offices, but Dabi seems to know where he's going. He leads me to a room at the end of a long corridor. He pulls a set of lock picks and gets to work, his movements quick and precise.
I keep watch, my senses on high alert. Every sound feels like a boulder thundering down into a shallow river.
The lock clicks, and Dabi pushes the door open. "In here," he says, gesturing for me to follow.
The room is filled with filing cabinets and computer terminals, the walls lined with shelves of documents. Very old school. Dabi heads straight for the computers, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Keep an eye out," he says, not looking up.
I nod my head, my eyes scanning the room. My palms were slick with sweat. I may have to turn my blade on this man. I may have to kill again. If Dabi were to find out that I was working with the heroes he will definitely go to try burn me on the spot.
He is only a few feet away from me. My back was turned to him so he had a great chance to hit me, but since I'm by the door I could very quickly turn and dodge the initial burst of flames. But I couldn't allow him to leave.
But even if I did kill him, there would be even more problems. The League and Destro wouldn't believe me if I were to tell them that Dabi was killed by Ryukyu. Heroes always act with the intent to capture not kill.
And Dabi is strong, if the fight got to that level there would be some build-up that would be noticed and maybe even broadcasted.
I didn't like any of this, recently I've been caught between two worlds a lot.
It doesn't matter, the goal is to...
"Got it," Dabi's voice broke the silence. "They're onto us. But they don't know much, they don't even know of the MLA being a part of our attack."
"How would they have known?" I asked.
"Well, the information is nothing conclusive. Its just a belief that there will be a big attack around the Hero's Eve event since Tomura and the rest of the League have been kind of quiet."
Other than the kidnapping of Bakugou.
I nodded my head at what he said. Thankfully that made a lot of sense for the situation. If I were a hero and on their side I would think that too. There were already rumours of them assimilating many other villain groups under them and there have been little to no attacks yet, so this was something bound to happen.
Dabi stands, his eyes gleaming with something I can't quite place. "Lets go. We've got what we came for."
I follow him out of the room, my mind still racing. The chaos outside, is worse now, the screams louder.
I just realized how strange it was for the fact that there were no staff or sidekicks in the building.
It wasn't some type of ambush, we were already outside of the building and nothing had happened.
I followed Dabi, we stuck by the same walls we came in through, this was just a small attack. Who knew what the next one would be. How bad will it be?
How should I plan it?
Honestly, no matter how bad it sounds, I kind of was wish it was already the day of the attack on Hero's Eve.
***The city was a fading canvas, the sun dipping below the horizon like a painter's brushstroke, smearing the sky in hues of amber and violet. I walked alone, the streets quiet save for the few people wandering the streets going home or walking their children through the streets.
My mind was a storm, I felt like I was walking on the razors edge. The mission had gone smoothly, but every step felt heavier, every breath tighter, as if the air itself was conspiring against me.
But it wasn't that, no, I don't think so.
But then she appeared.
One moment, the street was empty. The next, she was there, materializing like a fairy from myth. Saya Kurotsuki. Her crimson hair, sharp and asymmetrical, caught the dying light, framing her angular features like a blade poised to strike.
Her skin was pale, flawless, almost otherworldly, and her dark clothing clung to her skin. She stood motionless, her eyes closed, her presence a cold, distant force that seemed to freeze the air around her.
I stopped, my breath caught in my throat. Saya. It had been years since I'd seen her, years since the Eden Project had dragged us together and then scattered us and many other in the wind.
She was taller, her presence was more imposing, but the coldness in her demeanour was the same. She had always been like that, aloof and untouchable.
Her eyes opened.
Deep, endless blue, like the heart of a glacier, piercing and hypnotic. For a moment, I was entranced, caught in the gravity of her gaze. But then her hand moved, fluid and precise, and the air shifted. Blood flowed from her fingertips, coalescing into a long, crimson spear that gleamed like polished ruby. The weapon was as tall as she was, its edge sharp enough to cut the world in two.
I didn't have time to think. Instinct took over, my quirk flaring to life as paper materialized around me, forming a shield just as she lunged. Her spear struck with the force of a thunderclap, the impact reverberating through my arms as I barely managed to deflect it.
I ducked low, the spear whistling over my head, and used the momentum to flip back, putting distance between us.
"Saya," I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through me. "What are you doing here?"
She didn't answer me. Her silence was more unnerving than any words could have been. She adjusted her grip on the spear, her movements fluid and deliberate, and came at me again. This time, I was ready. My paper formed into kunai, sharp and precise, and I hurled them at her. She deflected them with ease, the spear spinning in her hands like an extension of her body.
The fight was on.
She was fast, faster than when we were young. Her movements were like a blur, her strikes relentless. I dodged and weaved, my paper forming and reforming as I kept up. Her spear broke apart mid-swing, the blood droplets reforming into smaller, needle-like projectiles that shot toward me like crimson rain.
I twisted and turned, my movements precise, almost dance-like, as I avoided the onslaught. Each near-miss sent a jolt of adrenaline through me, my heart pounding in my chest.
Why was she here? Why now? The questions swirled in my mind, but there was no time to dwell on them. Saya was a force of nature, her attacks unrelenting, her focus unshakable. I remember her strength from the Eden Project, how she had always been one of the top-ranked, her quirk it was a power blend of elegance and destruction. But now, facing her again, I realized something, she wasn't as strong as I remembered. Or maybe I just wasn't as weak.
I deflected the punch, her fist slamming into my palm with enough force to sting but not enough to push me back. I countered with a strike of my own, my paper forming a blade that narrowly missed her but left a small piece of paper clinging to her shoulder. She didn't seem to notice, her focus unwavering as she spun, her blood forming a massive hammer that she swung with devastating force.
I leapt back, the hammer crashing into the ground where I had stood, the impact sending shockwaves through the pavement. I took to the air, my paper wings carrying me above the fray. Saya didn't hesitate. She was on me in an instant, her speed unnatural, almost inhuman. I realized then, she was enhancing herself, manipulating the flow of her blood to boost her speed and strength. It was a clever use of her quirk, one that made her even more dangerous.
I couldn't help but smirk, a small, wry thought crossing my mind.
Our quirks are basically just creation powers. It's just a matter of who uses them better.
I flew behind a building, putting some distance between us, but Saya was relentless. She moved like a shadow, her crimson hair trailing behind her like a banner of war. I could feel her closing in, her presence a cold, unyielding force.
I needed to end this. Now.
In my left hand, I materialized a small map of the area, the paper forming intricate lines and details. The blip representing Saya's location, marked by the piece of paper I'd placed on her, appeared on the map. I focused, my quirk flaring as I formed a small, paper hand on the map. It was a risky move, one I hadn't tried in years, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The hand reached out, grabbing the miniature form of Saya on the map. In the real world, the effect was immediate. Saya was yanked off her feet, her body crashing through the buildings like a ragdoll. The sound of crumbling concrete and shattering glass filled the air, dust and debris rising in a thick cloud.
I landed, my breath coming in a short, sharp gasps. The dust began to settle, and I could see the rubble where Saya had landed. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a sharp, piercing glint caught in my eye.
Her eyes.
They were open, blazing with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. I barely had time to react as a spear of blood erupted from the rubble, piercing towards me with deadly precision. I twisted in mid-air, the spear grazing me.
The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the realization that she wasn't done.
She emerged from the rubble, her crimson hair disheveled but her gaze as cold and unyielding as ever. Blood dripped from her fingertips, forming new weapons, new threats. She didn't speak, didn't taunt, just came at me, her movements faster and her initial strike even more precise and deadly.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I landed in the rubble, my paper wings dissolving into a flurry of sheets that swirled around me like a tornado.
"You're still so strong Kobe." Saya had finally spoken for the first time. Her voice was cold and detached, as if she were commenting on the weather. Her blood surged around her, forming a pair of crimson blades that she twirled effortlessly in her hands. "Daiki was right. You have a habit of holding back."
Daiki!? That would mean she is most likely also with the League. Then why would she be fighting me? On paper we are on the same side, even if only temporarily.
I didn't respond. Talking was a distraction. She stumbled, but only for a moment. Her blood surged around her, forming into a whip that lashed out towards me in a crack like thunder. I dodged, the whip slicing through the air where I'd stood.
She was on the move again, her blood forming a dozen needles that shot toward me like a crimson hailstorm.
I raised my hand, and the paper around me condensed into a shield, deflecting the needles with a series of sharp ticks. And Saya still wasn't done. She leapt into the air, her blood forming a massive scythe that she swung in a wide arc.
I ducked, the blade whistling over my head, and countered with a burst of paper shurikens. They flew toward her, but she twisted in the air, her hair then moved, it swirled in a crimson vortex that shredded the shurikens into confetti.
That's right, her control was over everything in the shade of crimson.
I didn't wait for her to land. My paper surged forward, forming a net that I threw toward her. She saw it coming and sliced through it with a blade of blood, but I was already moving, my paper forming into a series of traps on the ground. She landed lightly, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scattered sheets of paper around her.
"Predictable," she said, "trying to rely on simple traps."
I didn't respond. Instead, I clenched my fist, and the paper traps erupted into a flurry of chains that wrapped around her legs. She stumbled, but only for a moment. Her blood surged, slicing through the chains with ease, and she lunged at me, her movements fluid and precise.
I met her head-on, my paper forming a pair of tonfa that I used to block her strikes. The impact send shockwaves through my arms, but I held my ground, our faces inches apart. Her blood blades clashed against my paper weapons, the sound sharp and metallic.
"You've gotten stronger," she admitted, her voice low and measured. "But so have I."
I shifted my weight, using the momentum to flip over her and land beside her. My tonfa dissolved into a flurry of sheets that wrapped around her arm, pinning them to her sides. She struggled, her blood surging to break free, but I was already moving, my hands forming a series of paper that sealed her in place, I slapped them onto her back.
"Enough Saya," I said, my voice was firm. "We're still on the same side."
She let out an exasperated sigh from her mouth. "You and I both know that none of that matters. If I wanted to leave the League I would and if you wanted to leave the MLA you would too. We are just capable of that. That's why we were created."
Why was she speaking like that?
I wanted to ask her but she was fighting back again.
Her blood surged, breaking free of the paper restraints and forming a massive wave that crashed toward me. I leapt back, my paper forming a shield that absorbed the brunt of the impact, but the force still sent me skidding across another rooftop.
The map I used in conjunction with my earlier attack was still floating around. The paper was shifting and reshaping as I marked her position once more. This time, I didn't pull. Instead, I twisted, the paper hand on her shoulder yanking her to the side and throwing her off balance. She stumbled, her blood surging to steady her, but I was already moving, my paper forming a massive hammer that I swung with all my strength.
The hammer connected with a resounding crash, sending her flying across the rooftop and into a nearby wall. The impact shook the building, dust and debris raining down around us. For a moment, there was silence.
Then, she emerged from the rubble, her crimson hair pushing her upward to her feet again. Blood dripped from her fingertips, forming new weapons, new threats. But this time, she didn't attack. Instead, she stood there, her chest heaving, her eyes locked onto mine.
Another sigh came out, sounding more tired. "You're still better than me. Just like back then."
I lowered my hammer, the paper dissolving into a flurry of sheets swirling around me. "There could have been other ways of going for a spar Saya."
Her face was blank, still cold, still indifferent. I was told I have a similar look. I could see it. It was like looking into a mirror, even though her eyes were a bright shade of blue that anyone would admire... they were so empty, an emptiness that consumed all things black.
I was in that mood again. What I was previously feeling due to the revelation from Gran Torino was all gone now. It didn't matter.
Saya turned around, her crimson hair swaying slightly as she moved. She paused, her back to me and muttered lowly. "Goodbye for now, Kobe." Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, her voice as cold and detached as ever,
"Walls to walls, we're all trapped. Alone. Staring into the same void."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, their familiarity cutting through the haze of my thoughts. It was a broken, fragmented version of a phrase I hadn't heard in years, not since the Eden Project. Back then, it had been blared over the speakers during their so-called "classes" repeated endlessly until it was etched into our minds, a mantra of nihilistic wisdom.
"We are all prisoners of our own minds, trapped in the labyrinth of our thoughts. Some of us build walls to keep the world out, while others tear them down to let darkness in. But in the end, we are all alone, staring into the abyss of our own existence."
The voices from the speakers, the relentless drills, the death, torture, it all flooded my mind, unwelcomed. I was lying to myself when I spoke to Gran Torino. I could never forget those experiences. They were so deeply ingrained in me.
And the same could be said for Saya.
Walls or no walls, we're all trapped.
I have built my walls high, thicker than most, trying to keep the world out. But Saya... she had torn hers down, let the darkness in, and embraced it. And yet here we both are, still trapped, still alone, still staring into the same void.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the air. I turned to see a crowd gathering below, their eyes wide with curiosity and concern. Among them, I only really recognized Nagant, her sharp gaze glared at me before scanning the scene with a mixture of suspicion and relief.
"Kobe," she called out, her voice sharp and commanding. "What the hell happened here?"
***The halls of UA were quiet, Yuki didn't know it could be so silent. But it was expected due to the changes in the school, the lack of students, only leaving hero students now.
Yuki walked with slow, unsteady steps. Her purple eyes were clouded, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing. The weight of the world, no, the weight of her own failures pressed down on her shoulders crushing her every step.
She had always been the strong one. The eldest. The aspiring hero of the family. The one who was supposed to protect, to guide, to fix things when they went wrong. But now, as she wandered through the empty corridors, she felt anything but strong. She felt broken. Shattered. Like the foundation of everything she thought she knew had been ripped out from under her.
The conversation with All Might and Gran Torino replayed in her mind like a broken record, each word cutting deeper than the last. The Eden Project. Experiments. Kobe. Her little brother. Her
little brother. The information that Gran Torino and All Might and that Hero Commission member, all of it echoed in her mind.
She was so blind. She was foolish.
She had agreed with her mother. She had even urged her. They had sent him away, thinking it was for the best. Thinking he would come back better, stronger and fixed after their fathers death and the violence he was showing. But he hadn't come back fixed, he was quiet, she barely even noticed he was there, and then he disappeared.
Her stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising in her throat. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to steady herself. But the guilt was too much. The regret was too much. It consumed her, eating away at her from the inside until she felt like she might collapse under the weight of it.
She hated herself. She hated the way she dismissed him, the way she had ignored the signs. She hated the way she had been so focused on her own path, her own dreams, that she hadn't seen how much he was hurting. She knows that she failed him, how she failed as a sister, as a hero, as a person with common decency.
And now he was out there. Alone. Facing danger every single day. Working undercover for the heroes, risking his life for a world that had failed him. The thought made her chest tighten, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She felt like she was drowning, the guilt and regret pulling her under, suffocating her.
She stopped walking, leaning against the wall for support. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against the cool surface, her head bowed as she tried to steady herself. But the memories kept coming, unbidden and relentless. Kobe as a child, his light brown eyes bright with curiosity, his laughter ringing through the house. Kobe as a teenager, quiet and distant, his eyes empty, his smile gone, now Kobe, out there in the world, fighting a battle she couldn't even join.
She had failed him. She had failed him in the worst possible way. And she didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know if she could fix it. But she had to try. She had to do something. She couldn't just stand by and let him carry such a burden on his own.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand straight, to push through the guilt, nausea and regret. She was strong. She was a hero. And she wants to make things right.
She would find a way to help him. To protect him. To make up for everything she had failed to do so. She didn't know how yet, but she would figure it out. She had to. For him. For her family. For herself.
The vow solidified in her mind, a quiet but unshakable resolve. She would make this right. She would fix what she had broken. She would be the sister he deserved. The hero he needed.
But first, she needed to breathe. She needed to get through this moment, this wave of nausea and guilt that threatened to overwhelm her. She pushed off the wall, her steps quickening as she made her way to the nearest restroom. Her stomach churned, the bile rising in her throat, and she barely made it to the sink before she was sick.
She gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles white as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed and haunted. She looked like a stranger. She looked weak, and broken.
But she couldn't afford to be. Not with what is to come.
She splashed cold water on her face, the shock of it helping ground her. She took a deep breath, then another, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn't fall apart. Now now. Not when there was so much at stake.
Everything would happen at Hero's Eve. She would either fall or rise up to the occasion.
***Cipher sat in the dimly lit room, the faint glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the walls. In his hands was a weathered copy of
The Book of Disquiet, its pages yellowed with age and filled with the fragmented thoughts of a man who had spent his life searching for meaning in a meaningless world. His sharp eyes had a playful look in them as he scanned the words, absorbing them with a quiet intensity.
"Life is a journey through a landscape of shadows," he read silently, his voice echoing only in his mind.
"We wander aimlessly, searching for meaning in a world that offers none. Each step is a question, each breath a sigh. And yet, we persist, as if the act of moving forward could somehow fill the void within us."
The words resonated with him, as they always did. They were a mirror to his own thoughts, a reflection of the emptiness he had carried with him since he was a child. He turned the page, his fingers brushing against the fragile paper, and continued reading.
The door creaked open, breaking the silence. Toga skipped into the room, her golden eyes gleaming with mischief. "Cipher!" she chirped, her voice high and melodic. "What are you doing?"
Cipher didn't look up. "Reading." he said simply, his tone was playfully calm, it was a standard.
Toga pouted, her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "You're always reading," she whined, flopping down onto the couch beside him. "Don't you ever get bored?"
Cipher closed the book, his fingers resting on the cover as he turned to face her. "Acquiring knowledge is never a waste of time," he said, his tone was deep and weirdly invasive sounding. "My mentor taught me that. He said that filling your head with knowledge trains the brain, sharpens it. Makes you see the world for what it really is."
Toga tilted her head, her expression curious. "And what is the world, Cipher?" she asked, her voice playful but with an undercurrent of something more serious.
Cipher's gaze drifted to the window, his eyes narrowing as he stared out into the night. "The world is a labyrinth," he said quietly. "A maze of shadows and illusions. And we are all prisoners, trapped in our own minds, staring into the abyss of our existence."
Toga blinked, her playful demeanour faltering for just a moment. "That's... dark." she said, her voice softer now. "Even for our standards."
Cipher's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Its the truth," he said. "And the truth is rarely comforting."
He opened the book again, his eyes scanning the pages until he found the passage he was looking for. He read it aloud, his voice haunting.
"We are all prisoners of our own minds, trapped in the labyrinth of our thoughts. Some of us build walls to keep the world out, while others tear them down to let the darkness in. But in the end, we are all alone, staring into the abyss of our own existence."
The words hung in the air, heavy and tiring. Toga was silent for a moment, her usual exuberance replaced by something quieter, more contemplative. Then, as if shaking off the weight of his words, she grinned and leaned closer to him.
"Well, that depressing," she said, "But I guess that's why we have each other right? To keep the darkness at bay?"
Cipher didn't respond. He simply closed the book and set it aside, smiling in comfort.
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----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The classroom buzzed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy as Aizawa stood at the front, his usual tired expression masking the gravity of the situation. Midoriya sat at his desk, his notebook open and his pencil flying across the page as he scribbled down notes.
The words
Hero's Eve were circled at the top of the page, surrounded by question marks and exclamation points.
Aizawa cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. "As you all know," he began, his voice low and measured, "Hero's
Eve is still happening. Despite the risks, it will proceed. That means we'll be doing our part to ensure the event runs smoothly and safely."
Midoriya's head snapped up, his green eyes wide. He glanced around the room, catching the varied reactions of his classmates. Uraraka leaned forward, her hands clasped in excitement, while Iida sat rigidly, his glasses glinting as he nodded in approval. Bakugou, seated near the window, slouched in his chair, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
Aizawa continued, "You'll be working in groups, assigned to different tasks. Some of you will be setting up stalls, selling merchandise, and interacting with the public. Others will be delivering gift baskets to charities and orphanages. This is a chance to show the public that heroes are more than just fighters, we're here to inspire and support."
"The groups you will be assigned to here will be the groups you are assigned to on the day."
The room erupted in chatter. Kaminari raised his hand, a grin spreading on his face. "So we're basically doing community service but, like, with a hero twist? That sounds awesome!"
"Exactly," Aizawa said, his tone dry. "But don't underestimate the importance of this. The public's trust in heroes has been shaken. This is an opportunity to rebuild that trust."
Midoriya's pencil paused as he processed the information. His mind raced, recalling the times he and his mother had volunteered at local charities when he was younger. He remembered the smiles on the children's faces when they received gifts, the way it made him feel like he was making a difference, even without a quirk. Now, as a hero in training, he could do even more.
Uraraka turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "Izuku, isn't this great? We'll get to meet so many people and make them smile!"
Midoriya nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, it's like... we're not just fighting villains. We're showing people what heroes really stand for."
Iida adjusted his glasses, his voice firm. "This is a crucial responsibility. We must approach it with the utmost professionalism and dedication."
Kirishima leaned back in his chair, his sharp teeth gleaming as he grinned. "I'm pumped! This is gonna be so manly. Plus, it'll be nice to do something that doesn't involve getting punched in the face for once!"
The class laughed, the tension easing slightly. Even Bakugou let out a low scoff, though he didn't contribute to the conversation. Midoriya glanced at him, noting the way his shoulders were tense, his crimson eyes fixed on the window. He wondered what it was he was put through, he wouldn't ask though, it could be something too personal. Plus, they hadn't really been on talking terms for so long.
Aizawa held up a hand, silencing the room. "I'll be assigning groups shortly. Each group will have specific tasks, and you'll be expected to work together seamlessly. This isn't just about looking good, it's about proving that heroes can be a force for good, especially in the times to come."
Midoriya's pencil moved again, jotting down ideas for how to make the most of the opportunity. He thought about the children at the orphanages, the ones who looked up to heroes like All Might. He wanted to inspire them, to show them that heroes weren't just symbols of strength but also of kindness and hope.
As Aizawa began listing the groups, Midoriya found himself paired with Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of working with his friends. Uraraka clapped her hands together, her excitement palpable. "This is going to be so much fun! We'll make the best team ever!"
Todoroki, seated nearby, gave a small nod. "Its a good opportunity to connect with the public. I'm looking forward to it."
Iida adjusted his tie, his expression serious. "We must ensure that our actions reflect the values of U.A. and the hero community as a whole."
Midoriya nodded, his mind already racing with ideas. "We could organize a small event at the orphanage, maybe even some mini showcase of our quirks, or why we chose the costumes we did, or out quirks, or a Q&A session. They'd love it."
Uraraka's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea, Izuku! Maybe we could even get miniature versions of our costumes made and give them out."
It was something that would make them feel included. Under law, students of UA, even though they had hero names and costumes, were not allowed to profit from their names until they had finished school and were out doing hero work. The only monetary gain was from events like the sports festival.
As the class continued to discuss their plans, Midoriya felt a surge of determination. This was more than just a task, it was a chance to remind the people why heroes mattered.
Aizawa's voice cut through his thoughts. "Remember, this isn't just about appearances. Its about proving that heroes can make a difference, even in small ways. Don't underestimate the impact you all have."
***The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and the faint metallic tang of machinery. In the center of the room, All For One sat, his massive frame dwarfing the chair beneath him. His hands, scarred and weathered, moved with surprising grace as they plucked at the strings of a banjo, the notes soft and haunting.
The melody was slow, it sounded mournful, but there was an undercurrent of triumph in the way he played. His head was tilted slightly, his sightless eyes staring into the void as if he could see the future unfolding before him. A faint smile played on his lips, the kind of smile that spoke of secrets and satisfaction.
"Ah, the strings of fate." he murmured, his voice deep and resonant, filling the room like a low rumble of thunder. "They twist and turn, weaving a tapestry of chaos and order. And yet, they always find their way back to me."
He plucked another note, the sound lingering in the air like a whisper. "Hero society, that fragile construct, built on the backs of the weak and the naive. How quickly it crumbles when the foundation is shaken. How swiftly it falls when the puppeteer pulls the strings."
His fingers moved faster now, the melody shifting, becoming more urgent, more deliberate. "I must admit, I underestimated the speed at which it would unravel. The cracks were always there, hidden beneath the surface, but now... now they spread like wildfire. And I? I am the spark."
He chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "All Might, my old friend, you thought you had won. You thought your victory would be eternal. But time, as they say, is the great equalizer. And time has not been kind to you."
The banjo's tempo increased, the notes sharp and staccato, like the beating of a war drum. "The League, my dear Shigaraki, they have turned out to be great players in this game. They play their parts so beautifully. Each move, Each strike, brings us closer to the endgame. The heroes scramble, desperate to hold onto their crumbling empire, but they are blind to the truth."
He paused, his fingers hovering over the strings, the room falling into silence. "The truth is, they never stood a chance. From the moment I rose from the ashes of our last battle, I knew. I knew that their time was limited. That their symbols of peace would become a statue of failure."
He began to play again, the melody slower now, more deliberate, each note heavy with meaning. "And now, as the final act approaches, I find myself... content. The pieces are in place, the stage is set. All that remains is to watch the curtain fall."
His smile widened, a dark, predatory thing. "Hero's Eve. What a fitting title for the end of an era. The heroes will gather, their smiles brittle, their hearts heavy with doubt. And I? I will be there, seen in a new era, a new light and heard in the present. The architect of their downfall."
He plucked a final note, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. "The future is mine to shape. The strings of fate are mine to pull. And soon, very soon, the world will see the truth. That heroes are nothing more than a fleeting dream, and I... I am the reality."
The banjo fell silent, the last note fading into the darkness. All For One leaned back in his chair, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. The future was bright, not with hope, but with the promise of chaos. And he would be there to guide it.
First, he just needed to claim his victory.
***The pond was still, its surface a perfect mirror reflecting the pale blue sky above. I crouched by the water's edge, a smooth, flat stone resting between my fingers. With a flick of my wrist, I sent it skipping across the surface, the stone bouncing once, twice, three times before sinking into the depths.
The ripples spread outward, distorting the reflection of the trees and the clouds.
I picked up another stone, turning it over in my hand. It was a simple thing, this act of skipping stones, but there was something calming about it. Something grounding. The world felt heavy lately, and this small, mundane act was a simple way to push back, even if just for a moment.
I was about to throw the next stone when I heard the crunch of footsteps behind me. I turned, my hand tightening instinctively, but it was just a kid, a boy, no older than ten, with messy black hair and wide, curious eyes.
He was holding a stone of his own, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty.
"Can I try?" he asked, his voice tentative.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, stepping aside to make room for him. "Sure. Just make sure the stone's flat and smooth. Like this." I held up the stone in my hand, showing him the shape.
The kid nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration as he searched the ground for a suitable stone. He picked one up, examined it, then tossed it into the water with a clumsy throw. It hit the surface with a loud
plop and sank immediately.
He frowned, his shoulders slumping. "I'm no good huh?"
"Don't give up on it that easily." I said, crouching down beside him. "It's all in the wrist. Here, let me show you."
I picked up another stone, holding it out to him. "Hold it like this, between your thumb and forefinger. Then, when you throw it, flick your wrist like this." I demonstrated the motion, slow and deliberate.
The kid watched intently, then mimicked the motion with his own stone. This time, when he threw it, the stone skipped once before sinking. His face lit up with a grin. "I did it."
"Good job." I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Now try again. See if you can get it to skip more than once."
He nodded eagerly, searching for another stone. As he practised, I found myself watching him, my mind drifting. This kid, this moment, it was so simple, so pure. It reminded me of a time before all of this, before the Eden Project, before stepping into the world as the villain known as Soryu, before joining the Meta Liberation Army. A time where the world felt smaller and safer.
But the world wasn't small nor safe. And people like Destro, people who claimed to want freedom, who spoke of liberation and change, they were the ones making it worse. I thought about his ideology, about his freedom of quirk usage. On the surface, it may sound liberating and it is something people can easily get behind.
Cause why not? Why shouldn't people be allowed to use what they were born with? Why shouldn't they be allowed to express themselves? And for the mutants, his plans would allow for them to continually live without the fear of persecution.
But then I think about the reality of it. The lives that would be ruined in getting to such a point. I look at the kid beside me, about what his life would be like in a world where quirks were unchecked. Would he be safe? Would he be happy? Or would he be just another casualty in Destro's grand vision?
The kid threw another stone, this time getting it to skip twice. He turned to me, his grin widening. "Did you
see that? Two skips!"
"Yeah, I saw," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "You're getting better."
He beamed, then went back to searching for more stones. I watched him for a moment, then turned my gaze back to the pond. The water was still again, the ripples from his last throw fading into nothingness.
Destro's ideology had its good sides, or at least sides that I personally liked. The idea of freely using your quirk as you please, it's appealing to anyone. But it was also dangerous. The freedom to use quirks without restriction sounded great in theory, but in practise it had already been done during the era where quirks were new.
Although it was done on a much larger scale. People weren't ready for that kind of freedom. They weren't responsible enough. And the ones who would suffer the most would be the ones who couldn't defend themselves, people like this kid right in front of me.
I thought about the attacks that the League had been doing, they were small and weren't focused on casualties, that didn't mean they cared to restrain themselves. And then there was the attack on Hero's Eve, Destro spoke about liberation, but all I could see in his vision was destruction. There wouldn't be freedom, just control. He wanted to topple hero society and create a new world order.
That wouldn't benefit people like me. Nor would it benefit the majority, the majority are in need of protection. And he wouldn't offer such.
The kid threw another stone, this time getting it to skip three times. He turned to me, his eyes shinning with pride. "Three skips! I'm getting good at this!"
"Yeah, you are," I said, forcing a smile.
The water was still again.
Destro's ideology was flawed. It was dangerous. And he was someone that had to be stopped. Whether by me or someone else.
I didn't think that because I wanted hero society or even the status quo needed to be protected, but because I wanted to protect people like this kid. People who deserved a chance to live in a world that wasn't torn apart by chaos and destruction.
If it got to that then things would start looking hopeless.
But as long as there was even one kid like this, who could find joy in something as simple as skipping a stone, there was still something worth fighting for.