Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mythical beasts with the body of a lion and the heads of other animals were staples of the ancient world. In Egypt, you have the Sphinx, guardians of temples, and bestowers of riddles for those who dare to trespass. In Greece, you have the Chimera, the monster that wreaked havoc in ancient Anatolia with its mere presence, the offspring of the monster king Typhon and Echidna, that breathed fire from its goat head before it was slain by Bellerophon.  

However, they both pale in comparison to Persia’s chimeric monster, the Manticore, in terms of the fear and trepidation brought upon those who hear its stories. With the body of a lion, the face of a man, the tail of a scorpion, and the venomous, armor-piercing spines of a porcupine, and at times possesses a set of large bat wings, the Manticore is the latest Latin translation of the Old Persian term for ‘Man Eater.’ It was the only one of the three beastly entities that remained relevant up to the dawn of the Middle Ages.

It serves as an omen of death and acts as one of the many symbols of The Devil. Should one hear its roar, either disaster is imminent or has already occurred.

The Manticore remains a symbol of fear to this day, even as humanity awakened supernatural abilities of their own, Quirks.

It remains a symbol of fear even though heroes will rise to the occasion and stop the spread of evil and its influence.

But what if the Manticore, that very same symbol of death and devastation, was the very thing keeping the people safe and had the villains checking the darkest corners of their room out of fear, to see if it was hiding in them?

Ladies and gentlemen, it all started with one man.

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

Chapter 1: The Manticore of Musutafu

I always wanted to be a hero.

But all of my hopes of becoming one were squashed when the doctor told me I was quirkless.

My friends hated me. My teachers only pitied me.

The only reason why I kept going was because of my mother.

She told me that if I can put my mind to it, I too can become a hero, with or without a quirk.

Then she was taken from me…

She was caught in the middle of a fight between Endeavor and a particularly strong villain, and the villain had little regard for human life.

Maybe had Endeavor not given the villain an opportunity to slip from his grasp when he first encountered him, maybe my mother would still be alive.

Had the villain not existed in the first place, maybe my mother would still be alive.

Had the heroes been willing to get their hands dirty, maybe my mother would still be alive.

In spite of my violent downward spiral down a path to villainy, I still clung to my mother’s words.

I can be a hero.

I will be a hero.

I am now a hero.

Just not one that inspires others and gives hope for a more peaceful future.

No.

I became a Blackout Hero.

Undisclosed Location
December 29, 2232

Sympathy for the Devil – The Rolling Stones

Somewhere in the depths of Japan, a gathering of 13 people sat around a U-shaped table, binders full of paper in front of them. The lull of the professional atmosphere only being interrupted by the noises of a pen gliding across paper.

“Ahem,” A high-pitched voice cut through the silence, as all eyes turned toward the very center of the parabola-shaped table, all attention now on O5-1: The Overlord. “I am on page 88.”

The sounds of papers shuffling filled the room as the high-pitched voice of O5-1 continued to speak. “Despite the Paranormal Liberation Front’s collapse at the end of the Final War against All For One, we are still seeing activity from the remaining loose lieutenants.”

“Hold on, we haven’t seen a threat to society that is even a quarter as powerful as the Front. Those who did possess the ability to destabilize Japan such as Twice, Geten, or Shigaraki himself are all incarcerated or dead.” O5-5, The Rain, casually argued, leaning back in his chair, and interlacing his fingers as he stared at The Overlord.

“I know that those remnants don’t pose a threat to society as a whole. What I am talking about is the danger they pose to the lives of everyday people.”

East African Federation
Somewhere near Lake Tanganyika
December 29, 2232

All was quiet in the forest as the fortress made up of rusted metal sheets and barbed wire loomed over it, blocking the pale light of the glowing full moon overhead with its overbearing presence. Guarding said fortresses are individual men equipped with machine guns, scouring the forest for trespassers… or worse, escapees.

One guard paused as he looked around. No one in sight.

Good.

Slowly he sets aside his rifle, dangling it from his strap over the right of his hip. From his left pocket, he pulls out a carton of cigarettes. He smiles as he pulls one out, before returning the box into his pocket as he pulls out his lighter. He put the cigarette in his mouth, clicking the lighter a few times, the sparks came to life, but it was not quite strong enough to ignite the butane.

SNAP!

The guard gasped as he immediately whipped his head around, dropping his cigarette from his mouth and pointing his rifle toward the direction from which the sound came. He only found darkness and shrubbery. No one is afraid of being alone in the dark, they are afraid of what is in the dark they cannot see.

After a few minutes of brandishing his rifle, the guard sighed in relief and exhaustion, he bent down to pick up the cigarette he dropped before putting it back into his mouth. After a few more clicks of the lighter, he finally managed to ignite the fluid. But as the small flame illuminated the area, he brought the ire of the living shadows on his poor, unfortunate soul.

He looked up to see a man dressed in all black standing in front of him. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t even react fast enough as a blade passed through his neck, severing his head with the rest of his body. The only sound reverberating through the forest is the wet slopping sounds of his neck gushing blood with the force of a running faucet.

Undisclosed Location

“Himiko Toga, Skeptic, Dabi, and Mr. Compress were all collectively responsible for about 100 deaths in the past month alone.” O5-1 calmly stated as he presented the photos of the mentioned ex-members of the PLF. “Their ability to kill and destroy as an individual is still substantial and both police and heroes have done nothing to find a permanent solution to stopping them. So, I am proposing my own solution.”

“And what solution do you propose, Overlord?” O5-9 asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He quipped, giggling to himself slightly. “Blackout.”

The general response to O5-1’s words was one of shock; gasps from the other members and a groan from O5-13 ring out in the room as the controversy surrounding the mere concept of Blackout Heroes is enough to fill even those in power with dread. Releasing one, even on villains, was a double-edged sword as even they have little sway over the decisions a Blackout Hero makes. They weren’t the previous administration, but even the previous ones would shudder at the utter lack of control over them.

East African Federation

Two men stand in front of the double doors leading to the compound's halls. The sound of a corpse falling to the ground just outside their field of view caused them to turn in confusion.

Shlink

The sounds of flesh tearing and blood gurgling felt like a slap to the face of the right guard, who turned around to find his partner gripping his throat as crimson ran through the cracks on his fingers and squirted out violently after each clogged, labored breath. After the left guard finally collapsed, he left the right guard alone and afraid, looking around for the murder of his partner, eyes wide and hands trembling.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grip him by his lower jaw, and with a lug by the man in black, disconnected his mandible from its hinges and the rest of the skull. Blood leaked from the torn flesh of the man’s cheeks and the only noises coming from the man were the strained, silent screams and the sloshing of the flailing tongue. The man in black leg swept the guard and immediately stomped on his neck, snapping it immediately.

Undisclosed Location

“When the Blackout Hero of your choice gets into actual combat, who would they report to?” O5-3, the Ember, asked as he flicked the ashes of his cigar onto the ashtray in front of him.

“Same person as always, the one at the very top.” The Overlord responded as perked up. “Me!”

East African Federation

A sudden weight on the chest of a sleeping guard stirred him from his slumber. As he blearily cracked open his eyes, he was met with the face of a lion’s maw, the face of the man in black. The guard’s eyes widened as he was overcome with terror but was unable to scream as a pillow was violently shoved into his face. The man in black then pulled a knife from the holster on his belt and began to violently stab the pillow, piercing both it and the flesh and bone of the guard’s face. After about fourteen stabs through the now crimson and tattered pillow, the man in black then forced the long side of the blade into the guard’s throat. No slashing is necessary as it cuts through the trachea and jugular like a hot knife through butter.

Undisclosed Location

“The list of surviving Blackout Heroes around the world is short,” O5-2 said as she looked over the names of potential candidates for the extermination of the PLF remnants. “Mastodon is almost 60, Abyss works only to undermine the GOC in Europe, Rush is retired after losing both of his legs in the Lagos Incident. Diablo is dead, Renegade is dead, Zozobra dead, Doughboy dead, dead, dead, and dead.”

In her frustration, she slid the list over to O5-1, who caught it and began to quietly flip through the pages with only one name in mind. He stopped on a certain page and smirked to himself, clicking his pen, and circling a name in red ink.

“Manticore.”

The rest of the O5 council began to murmur amongst each other, as O5-1 patiently waited for them to come to a consensus. After a few more minutes, O5-12 looked into the mostly redacted file they had on Manticore.

“Overlord, you must understand that Manticore is a loose cannon. The last evaluation indicated that he fully understands empathy but is irrelevant to him and that he takes a sick pleasure from killing villains. He is completely and utterly unstab-“

O5-1 slammed a fist down onto the table, rendering the arguing council member silent.

“I do not need Manticore stable,” He growled, before quickly transitioning back to his calm, joyful disposition. “I need him effective. ”

East African Federation

The man in black sighed to himself as he wiped the blood off his tanto with his gloved hand before putting it back into its holster. He looked back down the corridor he had just walked through, the mutilated bodies of the guards littered the ground, scarlet pools flooded the polished white tiles, forever stained. It was barely a challenge for him. They were all untrained thugs for hire with guns they barely knew how to use and quirks they couldn’t even activate. They were dead the moment that he laid eyes on them.

He scratched the back of his cowled head as he continued to walk down the corridor to his target. The Poacher. The head of the terrorist villain group the KVA. He has long reigned over the lawless lands of the East African Federation. They cared not for the lives of the civilians when they took EAF cities. They razed, massacred, and raped entire populations because of something as inconsequential as unpaid debts.

The Poacher is the worst of them. He’s a scholar of the Global Occult Coalition, and he kidnaps people with heteromorphic animal mutations and takes them to his personal estate (this dingy fortress) where he does what he pleases to them. Most of the time, he strips them naked and lets them run into the forest in his backyard, where he tracks and hunts them down like animals. The rumors said he takes their heads as trophies and stuffs them like taxidermy. In this case, the rumors are correct. The man in black stares at the wall full of taxidermied heteromorphs, had someone laid eyes on it without knowing their true origins, they would have just assumed they were trophies from exotic animal hunts.

He looked at the double doors in front of him. Behind it was the Poacher, and probably his guards. He knew the bastard would rather hide behind a paid human shield than suffer through a physical confrontation. Time to fix that.

He pulls out a long shotgun with a large drum barrel and a foregrip. This was the Striker-12 Model Streetsweeper shotgun, capable of normally firing 12 12-gauge steel slug, armor piercing rounds, although this one was modified to carry 18, at up to 300 rounds per minute. The man in black liked to keep it for close encounters.

He reeled his leg back and slammed his foot into the center of the double doors, causing the wood to explode into splinters before he stepped in, finding only three people inside. Two guards with automatic rifles on his left and right, and the Poacher himself sitting behind his large, intricately carved wooden desk, with gaudy silver ornamentation, looking like a deer in headlights.

The two guards were caught completely off guard by the sudden entrance of the man in black as they scrambled to raise their rifles to aim at the intruder. Too late, far too late.

BOOM!

A single shot from the Streetsweeper blasted a watermelon-sized hole in the right guard’s abdomen, spraying viscera all over the pristine white room. The Poacher yelps in terror as chucks of meat cake his face. The man in black turned towards the second guard who was just moments away from getting a shot off-

BOOM!

Not that it mattered as the entire top half of the guard’s head liquified and splattered on the clean corners of The Poacher’s office.

The Poacher yelled out a string of curses as he reached for the bolt action sniper rifle behind him, but the man in black was too quick, chucking a throwing knife through the arm of The Poacher and pinning him to the wall.

“AAAAARGH!” The Poacher screamed in agony as he gripped the arm that the razor-sharp blade went through. The knife carried enough momentum that it shattered both his ulna and radius, rendering the limb entirely useless.

The man in black stepped over the bodies of the two dead guards. He quickly strides towards the Poacher and smashes his temple with the butt of his shotgun, knocking him out and instantly silencing his blood-curdling screams.

Undisclosed Location

“Now, we must conduct the vote,” O5-1 exclaimed as he neatly stacked the papers in front of him. “All opposed allowing Manticore to pursue the remnants of the Paranormal Liberation Front?”

Only two hands went up, that of O5-12 and O5-13, both for separate reasons.

“And all in favor?”

The remaining 11 council members raised their hands. “It is official, the Manticore will be deployed to Japan to execute the remaining forces of the Paranormal Liberation Front. This meeting has concluded, good day ladies and gentlemen!” Overlord cheerfully said as he hopped off of his chair. “Eraser, a word.”

O5-13, the Eraser, let out a tired groan as he dragged his old ass out of the meeting room, trailing behind an even older Overlord.

“Now, I must get to the logistics of this, as a Blackout Hero hasn’t operated in the nation for almost ten years. And I know just the cover for him.” Overlord smiled as he pulled out a small phone from his back pocket.

“Nezu, please…” Shouta Aizawa whined from behind his capture scarf. “Please don’t do what I think you’re gonna do.”

“Come now, Aizawa,” Nezu chuckled at his old student’s misery. “Shouldn't a principal be excited that a new teacher is going to be joining the school? Especially one as coveted as UA?”

"Not if the teacher is a fucking sociopath that kills people in sick, twisted ways…"

"Oh, please. The 'people' he kills are the worst of the worst humanity has to offer. He’s hunting down the leader of the KVA at this very moment!"

East African Federation

Smack, smack.

“Wake up.”

Silence.

WHAM!

The Poacher gasped as pain exploded on his left cheek. He looked around confused and in pain, attempting to decipher exactly where he was, although it did seem a bit familiar. He tried to move but realized both his ankles and wrists (even the broken one which was now in a splint) were bound by leather straps to a large wooden table. Looking down he realized another detail.

“Oh. OH, where are my clothes?” He shrieked out in belated horror as he now discovered that he was completely stripped of his clothing, leaving him completely exposed, as he had done to hundreds of men and women before.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” A contorted, deep voice grumbled as a figure walked from out of the shadows and into his view.

The Manticore was, of course, covered head to toe in all-black gear. His chest carried a tactical vest that came with many pockets meant for storing magazines and individual ammunition, such as shotgun shells and a pistol for convenience. Under the vest, he wore a black tracksuit with thick, armored sleeves that were encrusted with the design of a scorpion’s tail. But the mask, oh the mask, was the true focal point of the man in black. It was a cowl that covered him down to his neck. The back was purposefully tattered in a way that makes it reminiscent of the mane of a lion, and the face portrayed no remorse. A black abyss with a visor over the bridge of the nose and the location for the eyes acts as a one-way window, he can see you, but you cannot see him. And finally, the metal mouthguard that covered his chin can nose, with sharp engravings to make it seem as if it were far too wide of a smile with three rows of flesh-tearing teeth.

“Your name is Zander Worthram, born in Dar es Salaam, East Africa. Quirk: Crosshair. ” The Manticore began to recite as he walked around the bound Poacher. “ Leader of the East African villain group the KVA under the pseudonym ‘the Poacher’. You are guilty of multiple crimes that placed you in my sight. Especially the ones against those who look different from yourself.”

“WHO ARE YOU!” Zander screamed into the face of the Manticore, uninterested in what he had to say. “WHO HIRED YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY-”

A punch to the solar plexus of the Poacher caused him to lurch forward and vomit on himself and all the air in his body quickly evacuated.

“It matters not who I am, all that matters now is that I AM TALKING!” The Manticore grabbed the edge of the table, lifting it up and forcing Zander to stand stiff and still tied as his eyes adjusted to the change in scenery.

Now with a change in perspective, Zander now realizes why the place he is being kept in is so familiar. He is trapped inside one of the many cages of his compound’s cellar where he kept the kidnapped heteromorphs before he got to ‘hunt’ them. Standing behind the bars of the rusty cage he was trapped in were the furious scowls and sadistic glares of the very same creatures he loved to cut the heads off of, all malnourished and covering themselves in what little clothes they had left.

“Gaze upon the lives you chose to destroy, enslave, and poach because they have the appearance of animals, Zander Worthram. Gaze upon your judges, juries, and executioners. Now you shall experience the horrors hundreds experienced before their untimely deaths. You have been stripped like the animal you truly are, and you will run into the very same hunting grounds as they hunt you.” The Manticore cut Zander from the leather binds before throwing him harshly onto the ground. He turned away from the Poacher, walking out of the cage and closing the door before the KVA leader could even regain his bearings. “ I will give you until the tree line before I let them loose to hunt you down.”

The Manticore quickly exited the cellar followed by the former captives of the Poacher, leaving Zander completely alone, naked, and afraid.

The Manticore and the captives all reach the fortress’s control room which sits at the very top, overlooking the expansive forest in the villain’s backyard. Everyone watched in anticipation as he pressed a few buttons, and with one push of a final, large red button, a horn rang out. The pale moonlight illuminated the ground between the fortress and the forest, and sprinting across it was the Poacher, running for his life at the mercy of his old captives and the Manticore.

BANG!

The Manticore lowered his rifle, a trophy of his own, taken from the Poacher's office. There was no way he would risk the Poacher escaping if he reached the tree line. In the distance, a smoke cloud preceded Zander’s collapse to the ground, causing the entire crowd of heteromorphs to cheer and let out animalistic sounds of joy and reprieve.

“He is not dead,” The Manticore explained as the noises died down. “If I am correct, I shot him through the spinal cord, causing paralysis from the waist down.”

“My legs, MY LEGS!” Zander screamed out in fear and in agony as he tried desperately to crawl with the remaining, functioning limbs he had, his arms.

“I did not want to take the glory of killing him from you. He has killed so many, and it would be poetic for him to be killed by the same people he loved to hunt.” Manticore said as he pulled out a machete and handed it to a large man with a snarling leopard mutation, with multiple pink scars contrasting with the white fur of his face. “Do what you want with him, and when you’re done, do what you want with this fortress and the weapons inside.”

The leopard mutation smiled as he grabbed the machete before letting out a snarl, stomping towards the door to get to the bottom floor. The rest of the mutant captives followed the newly appointed leader, leaving the Manticore alone in the control room, watching the desperate Zander try to crawl away. He didn’t have to wait long before the hunting party descended on their wounded prey.

The Manticore then stood on top of the control panel, watching as Zander Worthram screamed in agony as his captives tore him limb from limb, ripping open the flesh of his abdomen and scooping his intestines, stomach, and heart from out of his body. The leopard mutant smiled wickedly as he swung down the machete on the Poacher’s neck multiple times, enjoying how the blood sprayed from each cut of an artery. And after a few more swings, he lifted the severed head by its hair, showing it off to his cohorts as they chanted madly at the death of he who brought terror upon them.

The Manticore then let out a vicious roar that rippled across the jungle, one that sounded like the horn of a distant ship, the roar of a ferocious lion, and the screech of a wraith. To many, the reaction to it would be one of freight, but to those that he had just saved from the KVA and the Poacher, it was a rallying cry and was met with cheers and screeches of their own.

A vibration caused the Manticore to look down at his pocket. Stepping off the control panel and back onto the metal floor of the compound, he pulled out his phone and looked at the name presented on the screen.

‘Rat Bastard.’

He turned off the modulation of his mask and accepted the call. “Nezu-sensei! How are you enjoying death?”

“Same old, same old, young Izuku,” the voice of the previous principal of UA High filtered through the speaker. “Anyways, how is your mission in the East African Federation going?”

“Actually, it just finished a few moments ago!” Izuku cheered as he began to walk down the long corridors of the now defunct KVA base, careful to step on top of each dead body he passed by. “It went great, looks like it’s going to be an early Christmas.”

“Excellent, young Izuku! This means I can share the news with you now!”

Izuku paused at his old mentor’s words. News? “Oh?”

“Oh yes! The O5 council has reached a majority decision to greenlight an execution warrant on the Paranormal Liberation Front remnants with The Manticore spearheading it as a solo operation!” Nezu exclaimed, causing Izuku to come to a complete halt. “And another thing: UA will finally accept your offer to join its teaching staff as its first teacher in Quirk Theory! Consider this your Christmas bonus for being the most dependable quirk counselor in the world.”

“Wow, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to thank me, young Izuku,” Nezu said softly. “I will just be glad that you are coming home to not only teach the next generation of heroes but to clean up the streets of Japan permanently. I trust only you and your methodical madness.”

“You did teach me to do what’s best, Nezu-sensei. I will see you when I get back.”

“Goodnight, Izuku. Merry Christmas.” With that, Nezu ended the call, leaving Izuku to stew in his thoughts by himself.

Queenie is going to be starting high school, which means she’s going to be going into heroics. That means I get to see Kacchan again! Awesome. But that means an interrogation of where I disappeared for 5 years, alongside Kota, momma, Shino, Ryuko, and Uncle Yawara… Not awesome…

…

I wonder if I can bribe them with souvenirs…

Izuku booked the first flight from East Africa to Japan. After quickly packing the night before, he took a quick four-hour nap, woke up, took a shower, and began to get ready to go to the airport. He was dressed in a nice green cotton, polyester, and elastane t-shirt with text reading ‘Travel Shirt’ on the front accompanying a pair of tan shorts, black high-top running shoes, and a pair of prescription glasses. Sliding a headband into his curly green hair, the two gray cat ears twitched slightly, causing the green-haired man to smile as he began his exit from his hotel.

He arrived at the airport with little fanfare. He checked in his luggage and was pulled off to the side by a woman wearing a slick three-piece suit, leading him down a long hallway hidden from the rest of the airport terminal. She was an agent of the World Hero Association and was tasked with escorting Izuku to his own private flight, where he could bring all his equipment. As they exited the hallway onto the airport runway, he was assaulted with a commotion that sounded resoundingly positive. Turning he spots a crowd of people just behind a chain-link fence, parading through the streets, cheering, singing, and playing cultural instruments.

“They are celebrating the demise of Zander Worthram.” The WHA agent said loud enough for Izuku to hear over the parade. “I heard there was a mass prison break in his compound, and all the prisoners tore him to shreds. His head is on a pike somewhere up the road. You wouldn’t know anything about it, Mr. Midoriya?”

Midoriya pursed his lips before shaking his head. “Can’t say that I do, ma’am.”

The agent gives a knowing smirk at the green-haired man, not commenting on it any further as she continues her trek to Izuku’s private airplane.

Izuku finds himself trudging through a dark forest in the twilight hours. He had endured an 18-hour long flight from the EAF to Toyama airport where he caught a taxi to drive him to Nagano, only surviving off of coffee, a doughnut, and hatred. He yawned loudly as he continued to drag his luggage through the most remote terrain of the forest. He passed by a large lake meant to be used by people with water or amphibious quirks to train themselves during the yearly training camp, noticing how the water began to ripple despite there being no breeze. Izuku instantly took notice of it, but immediately shrugged it off, knowing exactly who was causing it, and knowing that they wouldn’t kill him.

Wait, it’s been five years… He wouldn’t exactly be the happiest with me…

Shit!

“INTRUDER,” Izuku turned around and found himself face to face with a mythical dragon entirely made out of water, with two blue, glowing eyes. “ TURN BACK AND RETURN TO WHICH YOU CAME, OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES OF TRESPASSING ON THE BEAST’S FOREST…”

Izuku stared up at the fifty-foot leviathan in front of him, his face betraying no emotion. The only thing colder than the glistening water of midnight were the two empty voids that were his blank green eyes. Undeterred, he turned around in seemingly a random direction and sprinted off, abandoning his luggage to the aquatic beast. The dragon seemingly blinked twice in confusion.

Just a couple yards away, Undertow and Tiger just stared in confusion. Usually, intruders would shit themselves and either surrender immediately to the dragon, or would talk shit, try to fight it, and lose. But this was the first time someone ran deeper into the Beast’s Forest. The Water Hazard Hero just turned to the much older, skirt-wearing veteran with a confused expression on his face.

“What the fuck?”

“I can see your constructs have gotten larger!” A voice said behind them, followed by the unmistakable click of a pistol chambering a round. Tiger and Undertow both slowly turn around and find themselves face to face with the muzzle of an M19 chambered at .40 caliber hollow point. There was no noise between the intruder running and him suddenly appearing behind the pair of pro heroes. “You definitely have gotten stronger… Kota.”

Both Undertow and Tiger stared at the intruder, wide-eyed, not because the intruder was pointing a loaded gun at them, no. They were shocked because of who it was. And the first person to react… was Undertow.

“ IZUKU! ” The red-clad Water Hazard Hero screamed out with a wide smile on his face. He suddenly bounded towards the cat ear-wearing man, uncaring of the honest-to-God loaded pistol in his hands.

Izuku only smiled as he outstretched his arms as Kota enveloped him in a hug. After a few seconds, the younger man pulled back to look up at his 6-foot-tall adoptive brother. “You know what’s going to happen next, right?”

Izuku nodded as he holstered his pistol. “Oh yeah.”

“I am not going to be sorry.”

“I know.”

WHAM!

Izuku fell backward, dazed as a fist collided with his cheek. He groaned as his body slammed onto the terrain, opening and closing his mouth multiple times to relieve the pain. Sitting up he finds both Kota and Yawara staring down at him with a thick aura of malicious intent. He let out a breath and he smiled at the two other men of his family. “It’s good to see you too.”

Both Kota and Yawara left a few minutes ago to intercept the intruder just a little way outside of the brightly colored Hero Agency. So, when Kota kicked open the door in anger, it caused the other three occupants of the building to jolt, confused and worried about the sheer anger on his face, never seen before on the black-haired man. At least two of them were worried.

“HEY, YOU BRAT, WHAT BILLS DO YOU PAY FOR YOU TO BE KICKING DOWN DOORS LIKE THAT, HUH?” Ryuko Tsuchikawa screeched at the youngest honorary member of the Wild, Wild Pussycats.

“I PAY MOST OF THE BILLS, YOU GODDAMN HAG!” Kota bit back with equal amounts of venom in his voice.

“HAG!?” Pixie-bob screeched indignantly as Kota sighed.

“Besides, I found a dead man outside.”

Tomoko and Shino gasp in horror, only to be interrupted by a familiar, if tired voice. “That’s an exaggeration…”

Yawara finally walks into the Wild, Wild Pussycat’s agency, completely wrapping his arms on an upside-down Izuku. “My luggage is still outside.”

“Not my problem,” Tiger growled as he dropped Izuku on his head before stepping back to give him space to stand up. Usually, he’d get piledriven by the macho Pussycat onto the hardwood floor, so, small mercies.

“IZU-KUUUUUN!” The assault on Izuku continued as he was tackled by Ryuko just as he stood up, causing him to slam once again on the floor. “IT’S BEEN SO LONG. WHY THE HELL HAVEN’T YOU CALLED? YOU KNOW WE ALL MISSED YOU!”

Izuku groaned in both pain and annoyance as he patted the back of his overly emotional adoptive aunt. “Sorry, Auntie Ryuko. The world is chaotic.”

Pixie-bob jolted and then angrily put Izuku’s nose between her curled-up index and middle finger and squeezed hard, causing the green-haired man to hiss in agony. “I AM NOT YOUR ‘AUNTIE,’ YOU’RE MAKING ME FEEL OLD! I AM BIG-SIS RYUKO, YOU GOT THAT!?”

“Okay… That’s enough.” Kota sighed as he grabbed Ryuko by her collar and pulled her off of Izuku, who was now slowly getting up.

“Would anyone like to physically assault me before I can explain my sudden and unannounced return?” Izuku asked sarcastically as he patted the dust off of his shirt.

Tiger raised his hand, prepared to smack Izuku in the back of the head.

“That wasn’t an invitation.”

Tiger lowered his hand.

“We’re sorry Izuku,” The green-haired boy’s annoyed face softened at the sound of Tomoko, his adoptive mother’s, voice. “It was just so hard to go months without hearing an update from you, we were starting to think of the worst.”

Izuku spotted Tomoko’s trembling lip, causing him to sigh as he hugged her. “I know, I know. But I was running up and down Africa destroying KVA cells. It wasn’t until two days ago when I finally took out The Poacher, their leader.”

“Oh yeah, I saw the news about his death last night!” Shino exclaimed, before sitting back and scratching her chin. “I also saw how they were carrying his severed head on a pick down the streets of Dar es Salaam… Wouldn’t you know anything about that Izuku?”

Ryoku, Yawara, Kota, and Tomoko all turned slowly to look at the green-haired man, who was staring blankly as he used his hand to comb the hair in front of his face. “I wasn’t responsible for that, per se. At least not this time…”

THIS TIME!? Everyone else thought in unison, disbelieving.

“But I did release the people who did do it!”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Tomoko tilted her head.

“He was keeping heteromorphic mutants captive in his compound, so I set them free, and let them do what they wanted to the bastard.” He jerked his head, letting out a breathy chuckle as he smirked. “You know the rest.”

The agency soon lapsed into silence as they reflected. Just because the prime symbols of evil are now gone does not mean that all evil is vanquished. In the darkest corners of the globe the slimy, the vile still scutter like cockroaches, unwilling to die, and it was Izuku’s job to exterminate them.

“But you’re back now,” Ryuko cut through the silence, staring at Izuku with an inquisitive look on her face. “Usually, you’d call after each completed mission and say that you'll be relocating to do another one. But now you’re here. Are you going to do a mission here? Who is it?”

“Not exactly…” Izuku sheepishly chuckled, as he tapped his index fingers together. “… I was maybe, kinda, sort of… given a teaching position at UA.”

A beat of silence falls back onto the agency as everyone’s jaws seem to slam onto the floor. This time, however, the silence was broken by Kota, who inhaled and exhaled, deeply, sharply, and excruciatingly. He walked up to Izuku and slowly placed his hand on his shoulder. He reeled his fist back-

WHAM!

“YOU GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT!” Kota screamed in rage as he slammed his fist into Izuku’s stomach causing him to choke out spit. “WHY COULDN’T YOU BE A DAMN TEACHER WHILE I STILL WENT THERE, HUH? DO YOU KNOW HOW INVALUABLE YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN!”

“I’M SORRYYYYYY!” Izuku, one of the world’s most devastating serial killers in the world, whined out in pain as his adopted little brother began to beat down on him, much to the exasperation of Tomoko and Kota’s adoptive mother, Shino, and the amusement of Ryuko and Yawara.

February 26th , 2233
UA High School

In every hero’s life, there is always a moment of uncertainty in their life that takes hold of it like a titanium beartrap and refuses to let go. It is a cold, desperate hand gripping their lives that is either filled with monotony, dread, or both.

This. Fucking. SUCKS!

For Katsuki Bakugou, aka the Number Two Pro Hero: Ground Zero, today was that day.

He growled loudly, voicing his displeasure at the unnecessary length of the orientation for the UA High candidates. That’s right, these kids aren’t even in UA yet, it was the day of the goddamn entrance exams. What’s worse is that both the recommendation and the regular exams were on the same day, at the same time. Perhaps because of UA’s surplus of administrators since multiple Hero Schools liquidated after the Final War against All For One.

How ignorant of me to think that anything would be simple here because hobo-sensei took over as Principal since the rat decided that living on Earth was far too boring and decided to have aspirations in the great office in the sky. DAMN IT!

However, he was snapped out of his thoughts when the girl right next to him nudged him with her elbow.

“Chill out, Old Man, your Pomeranian growling is going to scare the hoes…” Kimiko “Queenie” Bakugou, daughter of both Ground Zero and Illus-O-Camie, said in an airy, Zen-like tone.

“I really need to tell your mom to stop teaching you 21st Century slang!” Ground Zero groaned as his daughter laughed, causing Katsuki to shiver due to how similar Queenie’s laugh was to her godmother’s.

“Oh? The Great Explosion Murder God afraid of a laugh?” Speaking of her godmother.

Katsuki grits his teeth as he slowly turns around to find Mina Kirishima staring at him with a massive shit-eating grin on her face. “Hello again Raccoon Eyes…”

“Hi, Auntie Mina!” Queenie bounced up to her godmother, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Hello, my little Nitro~!” Mina cooed as she reciprocated the hug. “I hope your Old Man wasn’t too hard on you during training.”

“No, he ain’t, I think he might be slowing down…”

This elicited an “ Ooo ” from Mina as Katsuki began to grind his teeth in an attempt to de-escalate his rage so he wouldn't cause a scene in front of everyone in the orientation. “I am not slowing down…”

“Oh really? So how did I beat you in a 100-meter dash two weeks ago?”

“Cuz your quirk is bullshit…”

“You literally propel yourself using high explosives.”

“And you literally make explosive illusions..”

“Any who, what are you doing here, Auntie?” Queenie shoved her father’s face away to continue to talk to Mina.

“Oh, Shinsuke is taking the Recommendation Exam!”

“Huh? The Devil Pup is here?” Katsuki asked as Queenie lit up.

“Shin-kun? Where is he?”

“Well, he was with me a minute ago… But…” The Acidic Heroine looked around before turning back to the Bakugous and shrugging. “I kind of lost sight of him, hehe…”

Katsuki slapped his forehead before slowly dragging it down his face. “Parent of the fucking year, aren’t ya, Raccoon Eyes?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. He does this a lot… Sneaking off to God knows where the moment you take your eyes off of him.”

“He is six-foot-four, two hundred pounds of pure fucking muscle. How in the hell do you just ‘lose’ him?”

“HUH? I-”

“Oh, I found him!” Queenie suddenly said, causing both adults to snap their heads in her direction.

“Really? How?” Mina asked, tilting her head.

Queenie brought her phone to her godmother’s face showing her a map with two dots on it, one stagnant yellow, and one blinking pink. “Easy, I just pinged his phone. Meaning he is right over…”

Her smile began to slowly drop as she pointed her finger at a large group of girls surrounding a single tall, pink-haired, and skinned man with two large horns protruding from his head. He was all smiles as he began to write on individual scraps of paper that each gushing girl was handing him.

“Oh boy…” Mina sighed as Queenie began to stomp toward Shinsuke.

“Ladies, ladies. Calm yourselves, there’s so many of you, and only so much of me.” He said as he ran his hand through his long, silky pink hair. “So please, there’s no need to ru- AH!”

Queenie grabbed the demonic boy by the arm and judo-slammed him onto the hardwood floor before grabbing the prone boy by his leg. She turned around and smiled sweetly at the crowd of girls. “I’m sorry ladies. I am sure you’re all eager to get a piece of him, but unfortunately, he has more important things to worry about right now.”

“Huh? And who the hell are you? Mind your own business.” One girl said in a bitchy tone that immediately activated the Bakugou genes in Queenie. Her smile became much sharper, more feral, and her eyes turned dark as she stared at the soul of the girl unfortunate enough to cross.

“I am Kimiko Bakugou and this dumbass’s best friend. So why don’t you take your snotty tone, go to the bathroom, and blow yourself you self-righteous bitch.” She growled with a perpetuating aura of death surrounding her, causing the other girls to pale before backing away. Despite Shinsuke looking like a demon, the true devil was the small, blonde girl who was dragging the boy away by his leg.

Mina and Katsuki both witness the entire exchange unfold.

“I know where she got that from,” Mina whispered to the blonde bomber, her eyes still fixated on the miffed Queenie as she dragged her son.

“Yeah, her fucking mother…” Katsuki grumbled without missing a beat.

Eventually, Queenie and Shinsuke regroup with Mina and Katsuki. Or at least Queenie did, Shinsuke was still roadkill. The younger Bakugou huffed before grabbing the built boy by his collar and lifting all 200+ pounds of him off of the ground with no issue, steadying him on his feet.

“You okay, Devil Pup?” Katsuki asked as he watched his daughter pat the dust off of her best friend’s tracksuit.

“Yeah… I’m fine Uncle Bakugou.” Shinsuke groaned as he stretched. “And thanks for getting me away from those girls, Queenie. I thought they were going to eat me alive.”

“Believe me, I would have enjoyed leaving you out to dry if today wasn’t so important.” Queenie sighed. “I can’t let my bro get torn apart by bitches before he has a chance to make it to the hero course, yeah?”

“Yup, yup.” He responded as they fist-bumped each other, ignorant of how the pink-skinned heroine was silently gushing about how cute they’d be together.

And then, the light dimmed. On the stage at the very back of the orientation hall, a spotlight turned on to show a silhouette completely obscured by a mysterious fog.

“To the thousands in attendance, to the millions around the world…” The man said in a low voice. “… can I get A YEAH!?”

“YEAH!” Shinsuke, Queenie, and Mina all respond in unison, causing Katsuki to turn away, pretending not to know them due to the sheer embarrassment of the fact they were the only three to respond.

Present Mic, who looked much more haggard and grayer, still smiles brightly, snapping finger guns at the reactive trio. “Hey, hey! Thanks a lot, you three! And here I was thinking I had passed my prime. Anywho…”

He cleared his throat. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Thank you all so very much for deciding to go PLUS ULTRA and joining us today for our annual entrance exams! We are very excited for the new school year and the next rotation of hero hopefuls! Even after the Wars, the need for heroes in the world is as necessary as ever and we here at UA will teach you everything that you need to not only be the best heroes but also the best version of yourself!”

More spotlights turn on behind the old Voice Hero. “But we can’t do so, without our AWESOME STAFF!”

On the very left side of the stage, lightning struck the grounds, and as the smoke dissipated an electric blonde-haired figure wearing leather and orange goggles, raising his arm into the sky was left. “To start off, we have the Homeroom Teacher for the upcoming Class 1A, a graduate of the War Hero Hell Class. We have the Shock and Awe of Saitama, the Stun Hero: CHARGEBOLT!”

“Let’s ROCK!” Denki Kaminari shouted as he pointed to the crowd.

Next to him, a man with long purple hair wearing all-black equipment, a mask, and a capture scarf around his neck strolled out from behind the electric hero, looking utterly tired and disinterested in this whole show. “Up next, he’s the very thing all criminals look in each shadow for when they are doing something dastardly! He is another graduate of the Hell Class and 1B’s Homeroom Teacher. Give it up for REQUIEM!”

Hitoshi Shinso lets out a long sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Next to stroll in, but this time with a hint of elegance was a woman with long, periwinkle-colored hair wearing an all-white uniform, complete with a white military beret, a red bow wrapped around her neck, and a golden monocle on her left eye. “Up next, she is the white-hot rook hailing from Seiai Academy, dominating the raid scene with her massive intelligence and next to flawless planning and leadership skills. It’s the Heroine to challenge even Nezu! She is UA’s resident English Teacher: MINERVA!”

“The formula to our success has already been decided!” Saiko Intelli yelled proudly, as she waved at the crowd. 

Next was a shorter woman wearing a dark, navy blue skintight bodysuit with white trims going down her body, all the way to the white leggings and tactical high heels. She also has silvery-gray hair and a red visor over her periwinkle blue eyes. “Now, heading UA’s math department, another tactical heroine, this time hailing all the way from Isamu Academy! Able to know where everyone is at all times, you cannot escape her, kneel before SENSOR GIRL!”

“The future is within our sight!” Kashiko Sekigai yelled out with conviction as she joined her fellow operations hero in waving to the crowd.

Next to stroll onto the stage was an ashen blonde-haired woman wearing a purple, orange, and tanned bodysuit accompanied by purple gloves and a domino mask flanked by curved bullhorns. “LOOK OUT, as the Monolith of Hokkaido is here! She is the largest heroine in Japan’s arsenal and a hero of the Wars. She’s tall and pretty, and she is our gracious Art History Teacher, give it up for the Mineyama Hero MT. LADY!”

“Time to kick ass, UA! HOAH!” Yu Takeyama said as she saluted the crowd.

Everyone turned to the next light, waiting for the fourth curriculum teacher to walk out, only for a shorter man with long purple hair that looked like knots to bounce onto the stage, doing multiple flips before landing onto the spotlight next to the vacant one. He was wearing a purple jumpsuit adorned with my belts and a large, yellow scarf covering his entire right shoulder and face. “Presenting to you all is yet another graduate of the UA Hell Class, he is the crowned king of underground and ambush heroics who rose from the ashes of his former self. And don’t let his short stature fool you as he is one tough son of a gun and UA’s Guidance counselor, he is the Renaissance Hero: PLUTON!”

Minoru Mineta said nothing as he pulled out a bow staff from behind him, slamming the end onto the ground twice, glancing beside him in confusion as to why there was an empty stop. Looking up with a confused look on what was visible on his face, only for Yu, Kashiko, and Saiko to all shrug simultaneously.  

Behind the next spotlight, a trap door opened, and a figure straight up jumped out of it and landed perfectly into the light. She had short, brown hair and puffy pink cheeks, and wore a skintight black and pink bodysuit with large heels, two planet-shaped gauntlets, and sci-fi-esque headgear. “And now onto the woman that gravity forgot! Neither the force of evil nor gravity will ever be enough to hold her down. And in the past 18 years, including her time with the Hell Class, she has amassed over 600,000 lives saved with her rescue efforts all around the world. CLAP for our world-famous Rescue Specialist: URAVITY!”

“Let’s go, beyond infinity!” She flashed a smile while putting up a peace sign.

“And now ladies and gentlemen. The moment you have all been waiting for…” Present Mic cryptically said as he pointed to the second to last spotlight, where a woman with long black hair wrapped in a ponytail strolled out wearing a thin red, sleeveless bodysuit, and golden utility belts around her waist along with red, calf-high boots. “She is a one-woman apocalypse, capable of creating weapons you wouldn’t even BELIEVE! And she was the Class Representative for the infamous 1A Hell who led a squad of heroes to take down the most destructive of foes during the War. So, who better to place as one of the two pillars of the Foundational Heroics Class? The Everything Hero: CREATI!”

“Onto a brighter tomorrow.” Momo Yaoyorozu said as she crossed her arms.

“And finally-”

“ME!” Came the shout of a confident woman, cutting off Mic as a shadow jumped from behind the spotlight.

WHAM!

A dark-skinned woman with white hair and rabbit ears wearing a white leotard with purple trim and three prosthetic limbs slammed onto the stage in a crouching position, grinning fiercely as she stood. “And last but certainly not least, we have the second pillar of our Foundational Hero course. It is the mean, lean, ass-kicking machine with legs that are considered deadly weapons in at least fifty countries. The Rabbit Hero: MIRKO!”

“No compromise! Only conflict!” Rumi Usagiyama cried out as she put both hands on her hips.

“ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR UA HEROICS STAFF!” Present Mic finally screamed out as he pointed to the stage, only to realize one person was missing. “Hey, we are missing someone… Where’s Ken?”

“Thank you, Mic, I’ll take over.” A man tiredly said as he walked up to the Voice Hero.

His hair was long and black while graying at the roots. He wore all-black, baggy clothing with a white capture scarf, similar to Requiem’s, and an eyepatch over one eye. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Principal of UA, ERASERHEAD!”

The Eraser Hero sighed as he took the microphone from his best friend’s hand before making a jerking motion with his thumb, causing Mic to scramble off the stage as quickly as possible. Aizawa scratched the back of his head as he glanced at the empty spot on the stage before glancing up, and finally turning around to face the crowd.

“As you can see there’s a vacant spot within our staff. Unfortunately, Ken Ishiyama, also known as Cementoss, has just retired from both the line of duty and UA’s service as our Modern Literature teacher. So, for that, I would like to introduce to you our most recent addition to the UA staff.” The rest of the staff members gave each other confused looks at this revelation. None of them were notified about this beforehand, and Kan had not said anything or hinted at any form of retirement. “But with the assistance of the O5 Council of the Hero Public Safety Commission, we have found a suitable replacement. Starting this year, we will be replacing Modern Literature with a new curriculum: Quirk Theory.”

Murmurs and whispers began to spring up throughout both the crowd and the staff.

“And heading this new department: He is the shadow member of the Wild, Wild Pussycats, with a doctorate in Quirk Studies, and is the most successful Quirk Counselor in the World. So… Give it up for the first Quirkless Member to ever join the UA staff-”

Katsuki was physically jolted at the description of the new mysterious teacher of UA. All this information pointed to only one man.

And from the top of the stage, a man wearing all-black tactical gear with golden trims rappelled from the rafters to the shock of everyone. He wore a black baseball cap with two gray ears protruding from the top of his head and had on a pair of aviators on the edge of his nose, showing off his toxic green eyes.

“The Sphinx, Izuku Midoriya.”

The crowd gave a wary round of applause, except for two.

Queenie was ecstatic, jumping up and down as she pulled on her father’s arm. “Dad! DAD! It’s Uncle Deku! I haven’t seen him in so long!”

But Katsuki… There was a pit of dread in his stomach. Because he knows… He knows that something big is about to go down because the mere presence of Izuku anywhere in Japan means many people are going to die. And his daughter is barely just about to join the hero course. He stared at his childhood best friend, watching as Izuku smirked at the crowd, no… at him.

The road to everlasting mortality runs through Hell…

The Manticore is here.

“Yeah…” Was all that Katsuki could muster as a response.

End of Chapter 1

[Ending Song: Savior – By Rise Against]

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 2: What It Means to Be a Blackout Hero

To say Katsuki Bakugou was incredibly uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in was an understatement.

Even all the way up in the stands of the Midnight Memorial Auditorium, he can still feel the vitriol emanating from one person alone. The Sphinx, Izuku Midoriya. Or rather, more commonly known to Katsuki as “Deku.” But to those not ignorant of the well-maintained dark spot that blankets a shadow over a small portion of the Superhero World, he is known by one other name.

The Manticore.

Sick, twisted, vindictive, merciless, terrorist, horror beyond human comprehension, unstable. Just a few of the words used to describe the Blackout Hero. Looking at him now, sitting at a desk with a bunch of computers showing different stretches of the track, a pair of thick-rimmed nerd glasses replacing the aviators he had on for his presentation, talking animatedly with Roundface and Rabbit-sensei. He is a completely different person. A murderer among actual heroes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing…

…

Okay maybe there is a better analogy somewhere, but you get the picture. 

Hell, Katsuki himself shouldn’t even know the existence of Blackout Heroes, let alone Deku being the Manticore, it was something he stumbled upon by accident. One which caused a rift in their relationship deeper than all of the years he spent trying to belittle him leading up to Auntie Inko’s death. 

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

RING, RING, RING

Click

Dispatch : 1-Alliance Agency-

Caller : WE NEED A HERO AT THE ANATO INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT, WAREHOUSE NUMBER 8644 NOW!

*Distant gunfire*

Dispatch : Okay sir, calm down. Wh-

Caller: DON’T FUCKING TELL ME TO CALM DOWN . SOME FUCKING CRAZY GUY CAME IN WITH A SHIT TON OF GUNS AND STARTED KILLING EVERYONE. HE IS HEAVILY ARMED!

*Door getting kicked*

Caller: Oh fuck, NO PLE-

*Gunfire*

*Footsteps moving away*

*More gunfire*

Dispatch: H- Hello?

*Running water(?)*

*Footsteps*

Crunch!

The line goes dead…

April 3rd, 2228
Anato Industrial District, Shizuoka Prefecture

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Katsuki was in a dead sprint heading towards one of the many large warehouses of the Industrial Center, even with the wind rushing through his ear canals he could still hear the loud rattling of rapid-fire gunshots from inside the warehouse. It took him only two minutes to blast his way from the other side of the city to the industrial district, but even then, he knew the gravitas of being just two minutes late during an active shooter call. Although guns were phased out almost entirely at the dawn of Quirks, their brutality still cannot be understated, that’s why they are illegal in Japan outside of certain heroes, the police, or the JSDF. With all the restrictions of its sale, how can a man obtain one that is fully automatic?

Questions later, Katuski thought to himself as he reached the ajar back door of the warehouse being attacked. All other entrances have either been blocked off by debris or welded shut, making this the only accessible entrance without causing property damage. Right now, I have to stop this bastard…

Kicking the door open, he recoiled at the flashing emergency lights that lit the otherwise dark corridor in a deep red hue. Steeling himself for what to come, he quickly jogged down the halls, before tripping on something unseen, falling to the ground and landing on something that certainly did not feel like cold tile. It smelled like shit, and trying to prop himself up, he felt something slimy dripping from his hands. Taking one sniff of it he immediately noted the immediate copper smell emanating from the mysterious substance. Blood.

It was then the lights turned on.

The first thing Katsuki saw was his orange glove soaked in dark crimson. Looking around, he realized everything was painted red and that he was surrounded by bodies. All leaking from the multiple gunshot wounds that litter their body, he could see the dark chunks of skull fragments and brain matter leaking from each dead body. As the Number Seven hero, he had responded to all manner of fatal crime scenes, but this… even with his rash attitude and volatile disposition, even he finds this excessive.

He tried his best not to gag as he stood up, ignoring the sounds of the sticky dried blood tearing away from his knee guards like Velcro as he stood.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

He heard the gunfire from deeper within the massive warehouse. He steeled himself as he resumed his pursuit, cautiously stepping over the multitude of dead bodies that decorated the room, they already experienced enough desecration, no need for anymore. Staggering towards the man who caused such unnecessary loss of human life, he clenched his teeth, vowing to all those who have died that he will beat the absolute shit out of this motherfucker.

In each hallway he passed he found more dead bodies with increasingly substantial flesh wounds, to the point where there was less body and more of a red stain on the bright white walls in the narrow halls, and the bullet casings became higher and higher caliber. Eventually, he finds his way out of the halls and into an expansive warehouse filled with large industrial shelves stacked with unmarked wooden crates.

Katsuki slowly crept through the warehouse, keeping himself pressed against the crate-lined shelves to provide himself with a bit of cover in case of an ambush. As the gunfire ceased, the only sound that remained was his boots making tearing sounds as the dried blood beneath them peeled off the ground. He cursed under his breath, unstrapping his boots before taking them off completely, willing to remain in only socks to not alert the villain. He tiptoed through, looking at the gaps between box and shelf, looking for a gun-wielding villain or a survivor to evacuate ASAP.

Finally, his ears picked up what seemed like a small whimper. Looking across the space between two parallel shelves, he spotted a head of long, electric blue hair. It was a woman, middle-aged, deathly pale skin ( from fright, the poor girl ), wearing a black skirt and… doctor’s coat? Thinking back, Bakugou remembered that most, if not all the dead bodies he passed by were all wearing similar white coats. Why the hell are they all wearing them? This isn’t a chemical plant, and they aren’t storing them here either.

Katsuki shook his head. He was getting distracted.

“Psst.” He quietly calls out to the woman. The blue-haired lady let out a tiny, terrified yelp, jumping slightly and covering her mouth as she looked around for where the voice came from, tears brimming in her eyes. “Over here. It’s me, Ground Zero.”

“P- Prove it. ” She asked quietly with a shaky voice.

Bakugou quickly took off his grenade gauntlet before carefully putting it on the floor. He then slipped his hand through the small gap. The woman snapped her eyes to the black and orange glove currently waving at her.

“I- Shit, one moment.” He slipped his arm back out before removing the domino mask from his face, looking through the cracks directly at the woman with his red eye, trying his best to give her a reassuring gaze. One that was not practiced, but one that he needed ASAP. “ I am going to get you out of here, okay? What’s your name? ”

“Chiharu…”

“Okay, Chiharu. I’m gonna get you out of here…” Quickly, Katsuki put his plan into motion.

He slowly lifted the crate from right in front of him. It wasn’t light by any means, nor was it excessively heavy, just bulky. He strained himself as he carefully set the crate down on the concrete right next to him without making a sound. He let out a sigh of relief but quickly put his hand over his mouth as he felt like it was too loud. He quickly got onto his hands and knees and slowly crawled through the space he had just made, putting his hand out for Chiharu to grab.

“Let’s go.”

Chiharu began to sniffle, tears leaking from both of her eyes as she finally felt that she had found safety. Just as she reached out just as her hand was about to touch Bakugou’s-

BOOM!

Her head explodes.

Katsuki didn’t register that Chiharu’s blood and brain matter splattered all over his hand, face, and costume. He only stumbled backward in shock.

His ears were ringing as he looked through the space he had just crawled through earlier, looking at the body in front of him.

“Ch- Chiharu?”

Chiharu’s head was now just a red smear being covered by her bright blue hair which remained strangely intact, almost looking like a wig laid on top of the red, chunky fluid.

Everything was just mute to him now.

He looked just a bit to the left of her prone corpse. The top left part of her face, which included her cheek, forehead, pieces of her teeth, and a single gray eye which was widened in a state of perpetual terror only stared at him.

It took everything in him not to vomit on the ground right then and there.

Crick, crick.

Katsuki slowly looked up. On the very top of the shelf, he stands in front of was a man wearing all black loading red 12-gauge shells into a shotgun. (Benelli M4 semi-automatic.)

Katsuki stared at him.

The Manticore stared back.

“ You… ” The Blonde Bomber could barely restrain himself from blasting Manticore to kingdom come with the largest blast he had to offer. “ YOU MOTHERFUCKER! ”

KABOOM!

In an instant, the nitroglycerine sweat from his hands detonated, sending Ground Zero rocketing toward the Manticore, only for the lion-faced blackout hero to dodge by toppling himself over the edge of the shelf.

Turning back, Ground Zero realized that the Manticore was attached to a rope and was now repelling himself down the shelf and onto the concrete below, quickly severing the rope with a large knife before sprinting away from the Number Seven Pro Hero. He snarled, putting one hand out in front of him, detonating it and sending him spinning around. Once he made a couple of 360s, he sent a smaller explosion toward the direction he was spinning, slowing his momentum so he could aim his other arm at the fleeing Blackout Hero.

“AP SHOT: AUTOCANNON!”

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG

Dozens of small, low-powered explosions made a beeline towards the Manticore, but the man in black only gave Ground Zero a sparing glance as he dived through a small gap between two crates on a shelf, successfully blocking and evading all AP Shots and disappearing from the view of the enraged hero.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO ESCAPE ME, YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!”

Blasting over the shelves, he looked at the ground with a twisted scowl, looking for any signs of the Manticore. In the corner of his eye, he saw a black boot slip past a door just as it was closing. Found you!

He launched himself towards the door, and ripped it off its hinges, growling loudly and madly. On the other side, he saw Manticore and another person wearing the same white coat as Chiharu, this time a bald man with purple skin. The man tried to wrestle the shotgun away from the Manticore, only to get kicked in the stomach, getting pushed back and pinned against the wall in a single swift motion, before pointing the muzzle of the shotgun directly at the purple-skinned man’s face.

“No, wait-” The man immediately tried to shield his face with both arms-

BOOM!

Both his arms and his head were annihilated instantaneously with the single pull of a trigger, the rest of his body sliding down, smearing red-hot liquid onto the white walls.

KABOOM!

“Shit-”

Ground Zero blasted his way toward Manticore, closing the gap between him and the monster’s face within a fraction of a second. In that same instance, the explosion hero grabbed the lion-like mask and tore it off of his opponent’s face, before landing on his feet on the other end of the hallway.

The reason he didn’t instantly go for the knockout was that it had been so long since he was able to cut loose. He believed it had been long enough since he last got an Excessive Force Citation from the HPSC that he wouldn’t get suspended for what he was about to do. He wanted to look in the bastard’s face as he pummeled him into the fucking dirt, and he was going to enjoy it.

But as he turned around, all time seemed to slow to a halt.

Laying on the ground, looking up at him was a man with unruly green hair, dull green eyes, and a pair of diamond-shaped freckles.

No, it can’t be…

“DEKU?” Katsuki screamed out in the otherwise empty corridor.

He cannot believe it. The Godfather to his beautiful daughter, the best man at his wedding, the fucking man who was able to get him together with the very woman he is married to today, the fucking man who believed that he can be the greatest hero since DAY 1 was the villain he was chasing after.

Deku couldn’t even hurt a fly, too timid as a child (up until Auntie Inko died), too laid back as an adult, always the peaceful mediator between the blonde hero and the rest of the world.

Deku who apparently walked into a warehouse strapped to the bone with guns and proceeded to kill everyone in sight.

It was-

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Katsuki suddenly fell onto his ass as pain exploded throughout his body. Looking down, he watched a dark red liquid pour out from three holes in his body. 

He shot him.

Deku fucking shot him.

With what he assumed were armor-piercing rounds too, as his body armor did nothing to stop the bullets from being lodged in him.

And Deku didn’t look like himself. His eyes were too sharp, too dull. His eyes were one of a killer, one rugged with experience and age.

Deku couldn’t be a killer… right? Katsuki thought to himself as he writhed in agony on the hard floor. Bringing his knees up in an attempt to soothe the pain, even if a little. He coughed multiple times into his sleeve, but it remained the same color. Did he miss the vital organs?

A shadow loomed over Katsuki. Looking up, he saw Deku standing over him with the shotgun in his hand.

“Why?” Katsuki asked weakly, feeling betrayed by his best friend. Why did you do this, Izuku?

“You never saw me.” The only thing Izuku said before flipping his shotgun and slamming the butt of it into Katsuki’s nose, causing the world to go completely black for the Number Seven Pro Hero.

April 5th, 2228
Musutafu General Hospital

The faint sound of a low, monotone beeping stirred Katsukui out of his deep sleep. His body hurt, flares of pain shooting up through his veins as he shifted, the soreness of his muscles from lying in state for so long causing him to groan.

“Someone turn off that… fucking noise.” He growled before coughing. Bad idea! More pain begins to burn his entire body, especially on his face.

“Suki! Katsuki, please, stay down!” An angelic voice said soothingly, if desperately. In just a few more moments Katsuki opened his eyes as his body began to relax, looking to his right he found his wife, Camie, staring at him with wide brown eyes flowing with tears, with dark markings under them, and her long fawn-colored hair was disheveled.

She’s so beautiful… Why does she look so tired?

“Cam… ie?”

Katsuki slowly raised his hand, groaning slightly. Camie was quick to put his calloused hand to her silky-smooth cheek as more tears streamed from her eyes. “Oh, Katsuki. I was so scared.”

“… what happened?”

“They found you shot. It pierced through your armor. You were lying outside of a burning warehouse with a broken nose. And… you lost a lot of blood…”

She isn’t talking in her gyaru slang… was the only thing going through his mind as he stared at her sadly. She was never this desperate, or grim before, not even when she was pregnant with Queenie. Always keeping her jovial, infectious bubbly attitude even in long nights and the even longer delivery. Nice going deadshit, you made one of the only people who can put up with your bullshit constantly worried sick. Some husband you are. What would Mom and Dad think? What would Auntie think? What would Deku think? He internally cursed himself on his spectacular fuck up.

.

.

.

Damn… Deku…

Then with the weight of a freight train, the memories of the warehouse attack flash back to him.

The bodies, the blood, the bullet casings… The warehouse, Chiharu, the shotgun, the man wearing all black- no, Deku. Deku shot him. Deku knocked HIM OUT! He let out a stuttered breath as he remembered how cold Deku’s eyes were as his best friend stared at him when the mask came off. Not one of fear, or hatred… but of emptiness. He didn’t know which one was worse.

“What happened to the warehouse?” Katsuki asked after swallowing the bile that built up in the back of his throat.

“The entire warehouse was burned to the ground, all of the exits were blocked and welded…”

“… any… any survivors?"

Camie bit her lip as she shook her head. 

“Just you…” Katsuki’s eyes couldn’t have gotten wider if he tried. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I- responded to a call of a villain killing everyone in the warehouse indiscriminately with guns and…”

“You never saw me,” Katsuki remembered Deku’s words right before getting knocked out. The blonde-haired hero clenched his fists in anger.

“Nothing else…” Both Katsuki and Camie lapped into silence as the blonde-haired hero looked out the window with an unreadable expression. I didn’t save anyone… “Where’s Queenie?”

“She ran out to grab a doctor when she noticed you waking up,” Camie responded softly as she caressed his hand, rubbing her thumb on top of his silicone wedding band. “She should be here any moment.”

The second the words left her mouth, the door opened. Both Katsuki and Camie turn to see a small, ten-year-old girl with short blonde hair and red eyes staring at the Number Seven Pro Hero, her lip trembling and tears dripping from her cheeks.

“Hi, Queenie,” Bakugou said weakly, his throat constricting itself as he watched his baby girl say nothing, only trudging over to his bed, hopping up and curling right next to him, unaware of the pain it caused him to scoot over so she could have more space.

Running his hands through the hair of the silently weeping child, he watched as two more people entered the room. One of them was a doctor with a white lab coat (the bodies… Chiharu all had one on,) and the other was a man wearing a black and white three-piece suit.

“Greetings, I am Dr. Tsukuda.” The doctor bowed respectfully towards the Bakugous.

“And I am Takahiro Hayasaka, Hero Public Safety Commission.” The suit-wearing man said flatly as he ran a hand through his swirly orange hair.

“First things first, Bakugou-san. How are you feeling?” Tsukuda asked as he flipped through the notes on his clipboard, no one (except for Queenie who quickly fell asleep by Katsuki) missed the furrowing of the doctor’s eyebrows.

“Like I need a drink…” Camie and Hayasaka both gave the blonde bomber a flat, unamused look which caused Katsuki to quickly backtrack. “So mostly in a lot of pain… How’s my face?”

“Still beautiful.” 

“Looks like it has seen better days.” Camie glowered at the doctor who coughed into his fist. “You came out with a broken nose and a slight concussion, but those will be quickly healed as Asclepius-san personally offered to do so when he returns from his excursion to Hokkaido.”

Katsuki’s lips twitched upwards at the mention of the brat from Nabu.

“But you are also one very lucky man, Bakugou-san.” The doctor said as he put an X-ray scan on the light board, pointing at the three very bright white spots within the body. “Here was the X-ray we took of you once we brought you in. You were shot with .45 ACP three times.” Katsuki grimaced. Of course, I remember how many times I was shot, I was the one SHOT! “Miraculously, all three shots did not hit a single vital, despite how deep the bullets went and how close to the midline each one was. They each passed perfectly in between the organs without even touching a single one. The perpetrator either must be either incredibly unlucky or an incredibly lousy shot.”

Or an incredibly good one…

His entire right hand was covered in blood, brain matter, and clumps of electric blue hair.

The doctor went on to spout a bit more medical jargon that neither Katsuki nor Camie could follow before he finally left, bowing as he got to the door, wishing him a speedy recovery. Only leaving Hayasaka with them.

“Okay, Ground Zero. I am not going to waste your time here,” Hayasaka said as stood at the foot of the Number Seven Pro Hero’s bed. “In the wake of your hospitalization, the O5 Council has deemed the threat that hospitalized you to be a Class S Sensitivity Case. Meaning that this is completely off your hands, as well as the hands of other heroes or cops who wish to investigate as well. The investigation will be done completely by the Commission’s PHYSICS, or Investigations Division. So, for your cooperation, you are not to investigate. You are not to interfere in the investigation by our PHYSICS Division, nor are you allowed to tell anyone about details of the incident or this discussion. Failure to abide by these terms will see your license either getting suspended or terminated indefinitely.”

He turns to the wide-eyed Camie. “The same terms and conditions apply to you as well, Illus-O-Camie.”

Hayasaka then looked down at Queenie.

He sighed a bit before running his hands through his spiraling hair again.

The HPSC agent opened the door and stepped out, he turned around to face the two pro-heroes in the room, nodding to them. “I wish you a speedy recovery, Ground Zero.”

As the door finally closed both Katsuki and Camie stared at each other, silently communicating, something along the lines of: I smell a cover-up.

However, heeding the warnings given to them by the HPSC agent, they decided not to think about it. Thankfully his stay in the hospital was brief, only lasting about three days until Katsuma Shimano aka The Medicine Hero: Asclepius came by and used his quirk to speed up Katsuki’s healing process.

During those three days, he was visited by all manner of people. Of course, his mom and dad rushed in to see how he was doing when they heard he was awake but Mina, Eijiro, Devil Pup, Dunce Face, Jiro, and Soy Face came by as well. The next day it was only him and Camie up until Pink Cheeks and Grapes dropped by. Finally, on the last day, he was surprised to be visited by Half-and-Half and Ponytail who brought him something to eat so he didn’t need to continue eating the shitty hospital food until Katsuma got there.

But during this entire time there was only one thing on his mind that refused to go away no matter how much his friends and family distracted him from it.

Deku.

He didn’t know how to feel. Laying in bed his hands trembled as he remembered Izuku’s cold, unremorseful expression. He couldn’t have done all that on his own accord. Someone is forcing him to do this…

“… you are not to investigate. You are not to interfere in the investigation by our PHYSICS Division.” Hayasaka’s words played over and over again in his head.

Motherfuckers… The Commission is using him. This is another Lady Nagant, another Hawks…

On the third day, as he exited the hospital with Camie and Queenie, he received a ping on his phone. Pulling out from his pocket and opening it he realized it was a message from, of all people, Deku.

Shitty Nerd 🤓🥦:
Meet me at the top of my apartment building tomorrow night, at 11

Don’t flake out, Katsuki…

[User has sent you a location]

Katsuki let out a shuddering breath. Feeling like he was being watched, he looked around, the streets weren’t bustling like rush hour, but it was compact enough that anyone could blend in with the crowd. Glancing up, his eyes widened as he saw a figure standing on top of one of the buildings, holding a phone while looking down on him. Green hair unmistakable in the bright sun.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Queenie asked as she tugged on Katsuki’s sleeve, causing him to snap his eyes down at his daughter. When he looked back up to where Deku was standing, he was nowhere to be found. “What are you looking at?”

Katsuki swallowed thickly before turning back to his daughter with a small smile on his face.

“Nothing, sweetie. Wanna go get some katsudon?” Deku’s favorite.

Queenie lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of her favorite meal before jumping up and down. “Yeah! Let’s go get katsudon!”

He watched as Queenie ran up to tell her mom his recommendation. Even watching his family being happy together did nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, ease the slight trembling of his fingers, to clean the blood that baked him. He clenched his hands into fists.

What’s going on with you, Deku?

April 9th, 2228
New Musutafu, Japan

Katsuki kicked open the door leading to the roof of the ridiculously tall apartment complex that Izuku lived in. He inhaled sharply before letting out an excruciating sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sure, he could have blasted his way to the top, but he is not a nighttime hero, and his quirk is neither subtle nor quiet. He tsked loudly to himself, rounding the corner only to come to a screeching halt.

Standing on the edge of a building was a man clad in all black, looking down at the glowing city below. Katsuki’s heart jumped to his throat as he immediately entered hero mode. “Hey, wait-”

“I’m not going to jump, Kacchan.” The man said through a voice changer, making it sound much deeper and guttural.

Katsuki paused, taking a step back. “Is that you, Deku?”

The Manticore simply stepped off the ledge as he pulled the lion-faced cowl off his head, revealing the cold green eyes of Deku in its place. Radiant red met the dull green for a staredown. 

For an entire minute neither said a word, the only sound that remained was the late-night breeze passing through the air. Katsuki’s fist trembled as he clenched it in the tightest fist he had ever produced in the past 27 years of his life, resisting the urge to rush his best friend and beat the answers he wanted out of them. 

He could feel his composure cracking, but he needed to get the first words in before he exploded in both a figurative and literal manner. “Why…”

“Hm?” Izuku asked, only giving Katsuki a sparing glance that made the blonde bomber want to punch a hole in his skull.

“The warehouse. Why did you do it? And for what purpose?” Katsuki seethed. “Why spill all that blood… They were innocent people.” He tried his best not to remember the chunk of Chiharu’s face that stared at him moments after her entire head was blown off by the shotgun.

“Mm.” Izuku hummed in an infuriatingly calm manner. “They weren’t innocent.”

“Hehe, yeah?” Katsuki laughed sarcastically, edging on fury. “What the fuck makes you say that?”

“They were experimenting on children.”

And just like that, Katsuki lost all the wind from his sails. “What?”

Izuku pulled out his phone, opening something on the screen before tossing it to the blonde. Looking down at it, Katsuki’s stomach lurched as he saw a photo of a series of small bodies floating in a large tank. He kept swiping only for it to get progressively worse. Children as pale as the sheet that covered their bodies lying on an autopsy table, and some had their chests wide open, revealing their organs, such as their lungs, heart, and diaphragm.

“It was called the Seraphim Program,” Izuku explained as he sat on the edge of the building. “Children as young as 5 were abducted off the streets and taken to the lab, which was under the warehouse I attacked in the Anato Industrial District. The first thing done to them when they reach the second location is getting injected with a lethal amount of adrenaline, which kills them instantaneously. It is then their bodies are stripped of all identity, DNA, RNA, hair, quirk factor … You name it. Then their bodies are loaded with spliced genes of active pro heroes. Nejire-chan, Ryukyu, Mirko, Frost Fire, Ingenium, E-Revert, Lemillion… You… They were planning to create subservient genetic clones of you and your quirk using these kids as a template. ”

"When I was done personally executing each member of their staff, I took photos of all their crimes and I destroyed it all. Everything burnt it all the way to the ground."

Katsuki, however, didn't hear most of what he said. He kept swiping, spiraling as the horrors of his First Year reared their ugly heads.

It’s the Nomus all over again. Katsuki’s head began spinning as he realized the gravity of what they were doing.

It’s the Nomus all over again. It’s the Nomus all over again. It’s the Nomus all over again. He repeated, over and over again like a chant. But his finger kept swiping. Until he finally reached one last photo.

It was a photo of a picture frame, and on it was the photo of a woman with electric blue hair, pale skin, and a white lab coat. And underneath it was a plaque that read: Chiharu Takeda, Head Researcher of Seraphim.

The same woman who was crying all by herself, afraid for her life; the same woman he was about to save before Deku- no… The Manticore blew her brain out. The head researcher of the project that kidnapped and murdered children to be used as a baseplate for clones of other pro heroes that cannot think for themselves.

Finally, after days of building, it became too much.

HUR- WACK! Katsuki tried to cover his mouth, but the vomit built up enough pressure to squirt through his fingers at high speeds, chunks of undigested food falling onto the concrete as he dropped Izuku’s phone.

The blonde coughed and sputtered multiple times to dislodge any remaining chunks of his lunch and breakfast from his esophagus and mouth. Izuku remained silent at his best friend’s suffering as he picked up his phone from beside the puddle of bile.

“So…” Katsuki huffed and puffed, trying to regain the breath he lost from throwing up. “You’re some kind of vigilante now? What do you want to be, the next fucking Stain, huh?”

“No. I am actually a licensed ‘hero.’”

“DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH! A HERO WOULD NEVER DO WHAT YOU DID!”

“Didn’t stop you from melting Shigaraki’s face off.”

“THAT’S DIFFERENT! HE WAS A RABID ANIMAL THAT NEEDED TO BE PUT DOWN!”

“And they were monsters that needed to be exterminated.”

“THOSE BASTARDS WERE TO BE ARRESTED AND PUT ON TRIAL. YOU CANNOT ACT AS JUDGE, JURY, AND EXECUTIONER. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE HPSC THINKING WHEN THEY GAVE YOU THE LICENSE!”

“They didn’t give me a license because my license was given to me directly by the World Hero Association as a Blackout Hero!”

“…”

“…”

“What the hell is a ‘Blackout Hero?’” Katsuki asked, finally getting eye level with Izuku.

“In the world of heroics, there are 3 known classes of Heroes. Limelight, such as yourself, the big celebrities of the Polls; Daylight, the smaller ones who patrol the cities; Underground, like Eraser Head, the more anonymous heroes who work mostly at night. And then there are people like me, The Manticore, that no one, not even some of the most well-informed know about. That being Blackout.”

“The differences between Underground and Blackout Heroes are that Underground heroes’ identities are a secret, but their existence is known in the Hero Industry. Blackout Heroes, however, are complete ghosts. No agency, no hotline, no records of them available in Hero Network. No one knows about them but a select few people. For every 100,000 heroes around the world, there is 1 Blackout Hero. And to top it all off, we are held by little jurisdiction. No one can call me and tell me who I must target and destroy, I am not some sort of lowly enforcer like Lady Nagant. The choices are mine and mine alone to make, and there is little to no line I can cross that will get me reprimanded, let alone arrested. The only thing keeping us tethered to what is wrong from what is worse is my WHA Overseer, they’re the ones who analyze what I do and deem it acceptable.”

“Everything I do is illegal to everyone but the actual eyes of the law. I keep my hands dirty to keep the world clean…” Izuku ran his hand through his green locks. “You cannot tell anyone about what I do as the Manticore. The punishments for doing so are so much more drastic than a simple suspension of a hero license.”

‘They’ll kill you.’ Went unsaid, but Katsuki immediately understood its implications.

That’s what Hayasaka was trying to cover up. He was covering the existence of Blackout Heroes.

“Why tell me?”

“You needed to know… And I trust you…” Izuku was getting sick of the questioning, he only wanted to say his piece and leave.

“… and why did you choose to become one?”

“Because if a hero, especially one such as the likes of Endeavor, had enough balls to put the Tungsten Panzer into the ground from the beginning instead of losing their grip on him during a restraint, maybe Mom would still be alive.” Finally, the anger and sorrow in his eyes showed itself to Katsuki. Tungsten Panzer had been the villain who rampaged through Musutafu, back in the spring of 2212. The villain had ended the lives of 39 people, including Inko Midoriya.

The incident caused Izuku to completely shut down. Katsuki made the horrible mistake of continuing to belittle him after the incident, which resulted in the worst ass beating he had in his entire life. Nothing, no villain fight, training, or sports festival came close to the smackdown he received from the small, skinny green-haired boy. That day he honestly believed had the teachers physically restrained him from the blond-haired boy that Katsuki would have died. Shortly afterwards, Izuku left to go live with Auntie Inko’s cousin Ragdoll and the rest of the Wild, Wild, Pussycats.

For the first time in his life, he had to swallow his pride and apologize to Izuku, for everything he had done. It took a long time for him to accept his apology, and even longer for him to start warming up to Katsuki again, just in time for the First Year Summer Camp…

…

“What now for you?” Katsuki asked as he leaned on the short wall at the edge of the building. Physically and mentally exhausted from the entire conversation.

“Now? My cover has been blown, which means I cannot stay here. I leave tomorrow for Mexico to deal with the Queens of the Quirk Age Cartel. And then… go where the wind takes me.”

"How long will you be gone?" Katsuki asked, swallowing thickly as his throat began to constrict in on itself.

Deku only shrugged. "Five years, ten, twenty? I don't know. Aside from a miracle, you’ll probably see me again after I retire." He chuckled to himself darkly, knowing full well that Blackout Heroes don't retire, they work until they either drop dead or get killed in action. "Or after I die."

Katsuki’s lower lip was trembling, his eyes stung. He’s leaving… It’s my fault…

He didn’t even notice that he sat down, back lying against the wall as he tried his hardest not to let his tears spill.

Izuku patted his best friend on the top of his blonde head. “Goodbye Kacchan… Keep yourself warm. Tell Aunt Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru that I love them. And tell Queenie to follow her dreams.”

Izuku began to walk away, putting the mask over his face.

“D- Izuku!”

The Manticore paused, turning to listen to what the explosive hero had to say. “I’m sorry for not being a good friend!”

All the memories of when he beat him down, kicked him, blew him up, called him names, shoved him, destroyed his stuff, and came back to him. The clarity he felt after getting the crap kicked out of him and being yelled at by both of his parents for what he had done made him realize how much of a piece of shit he was. And he felt like he never apologized enough.

“You were the best one I could have asked for,” Izuku responded, before putting the snarling metal mouthguard over his face. “Goodnight Kacchan…”

There was no noise following the closing of the large metal door to the stairwell. Not a footstep from The Manticore, nor a gust of breeze. When Katsuki finally heard the door close, he curled into himself and ended his fight against the tears. Sobbing was the only sound emanating from the rooftop.

“Dad. Yo, Earth to Old Man, you there?” Katsuki snapped out of his reminiscing at the sound of his daughter’s voice. He finally got a look at her. Queenie was an exact carbon copy of the blonde-hero, the only difference being her hair was straight, instead of spiky. She had a purple towel draped over her shoulder. “The Exam is finished.”

Bakugou’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, and he pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. It was a full three hours later. He missed the entire thing!

Fuck! I have probably been staring at the damn wall for the past 3 hours! He mumbled a string of curses under his breath out of guilt, pinching the bridges of his nose. “I’m sorry, Queenie, I just got lost in thought. How did you do?”

The smaller Bakugou only shrugged. “They’re tallying up the scores right now. They’ll probably tell us what’s good once they're finished.”

Bakugou turned to see Deku, Pink Cheeks, and Rabbit-sensei all staring at the computer screens, all with intense looks. Queenie, however, kept her gaze up at her father, with a crestfallen expression. He did it again…

Queenie remembered the day her father was shot like it was yesterday. She was at home, getting ready for bed when she heard a blood-curdling scream coming from her mom’s room, and suddenly she found herself in a car with her mom full sending it towards Musutafu General Hospital. Seeing her father unconscious, hooked up to machines, and the constant movements of doctors taking care of him, the blood transfusion bags, and his face covered in bandages, it was all the source of most of her nightmares for the next few years. She always thought her daddy was invincible, that he was the strongest, beating all the bad guys and always coming out with nothing more than a few scratches. But that day proved to be the end of those beliefs.

It was the most injured had ever gotten, and the most injured he would ever be to this day.

And Queenie still doesn’t know if the son of a bitch who did it had been caught yet.

Ever since then, he had never been the same. He doesn’t know the number of times she heard him crying in the middle of the night when her mom wasn’t there. She can’t count how many times she catches him doing the thousand-yard stare. It hurt her heart to think that she did lose her father that day, the man in front of him was only a husk.

“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please,” she perked up at the voice of her Uncle Deku, who now apparently goes by ‘The Sphinx’. To her, his return gave her a bit of reprieve. “The scores have now been posted on the big screen. To those who didn’t make it into the hero course, do not fear, as you will be able to get the chance to prove yourself once again during our upcoming sports festival. And those who find themselves in the top four: Welcome to your Hero Academia.”

1. Kimiko Bakugou
2. Ryuu Yamaguchi
3. Xihu Unkown
4. Shinsuke Kirishima

“YEAH!” Queenie cheered as she smacked her father in the chest, causing him to grunt. “Smoke on the water now, old man, that’s why I am the GOAT .”

Suddenly she was bum rushed by Mina who wrapped her into a tight hug, nuzzling the top of her head. “Good job little Nitrooooo~! I knew you’d get the top spot!”

“ALRIGHT QUEENIE-CHAN! WE MADE IT!” Shinsuke came by and lifted both women off the ground in a bone-crushing hug. Literally, as Mina and Queenie felt their bones creaking. “UNCLE BAKUGOU, COME JOIN THE GROUP HUG!”

“N… No thanks.”

“Shinsuke!”

“Shin-kun… Can’t… BREATHE!”

Shinsuke quickly realized what was going on and quickly let them both go but without any sort of guilt present on his face, smiling widely as he watched Queenie and his mother pant, relieved to have air back in their lungs. He chuckled warily. “Sorry, got a bit carried away.”

“YOU HAVE TO REALIZE HOW STRONG YOU ARE GOOD DAMNIT!” Queenie screamed in rage as she wrapped both of her hands around Shinsuke’s neck and proceeded to throttle him, much to his flailing. But a taste of what both she and Mina experienced.

Katsuki only watched from afar.

She made it.

Queenie going to UA, the Hero course no less.

Katsuki wrung his hands, the dull aches of years of constant explosion creaked throughout his wrists. He remembers the day he got out of the hospital was the day Queenie told her that she wanted to be a hero. Being the daughter of one, it was inevitable for her to not become one, but the fear she experienced during her father’s hospitalization cemented that decision. She didn’t want anyone else to fear as much as she did that day. But deep down the rage of the person Deku/Manticore not getting apprehended for shooting him is tainting her decisions.

Reminds him of Glasses back in their First Year, after Stain killed his brother during the Sports Festival.

It was a fight he couldn’t win.

It was a miracle he was saved by some mysterious person…

…

That motherfucker.

Katsuki turned to the administrator’s corner, watching as Deku opened the door for both Pink Cheeks and Rabbit-sensei, letting them into the hallways. Just as he was about to go through the door frame, Katsuki swore he saw the shitty nerd steal a glance at him, winking under the pair of aviators he had on.

The USJ, Hosu, Kamino, Nabu, Shie Hassaikai, hell the Wars as well. Deku as the Manticore had been meddling in all of it. He’s been a Blackout Hero since their FIRST YEAR, right under my nose! I am a dumbass!

He saved Frog Face, Eyebags, and Minoru in the USJ. Glasses in Hosu. He was probably there to save Ragdoll during Kamino as well! Not that he blamed Deku for doing so. He was present during the Summer Camp and Ragdoll was his adoptive mother after all.

And Queenie’s conviction finally brought him to the realization 5 years later! 

Mom is going to have a long discussion  with him when she finds out he's back…

“Oi, Sphinx.”

“Please, Mirko-san, call me Midoriya!”

“Right, Midoriya… Have you noticed Katsuki Bakugou staring at you the entire Exam?”

“Yes, I have.”

“What was up with that?”

“Oh, I’m a good friend of his!”

“Really?” Uravity finally joined the conversation as she strutted ahead of the new green-haired hire and rabbit hero. “How long have you known him for?”

“Since I was like… two. His family and my family were tied to the hip because our moms went to high school together.”

“Really?” Mirko raised her eyebrow inquisitively.

“Hm…” Izuku stroked his chin. Lighting up he snapped his finger at the Rabbit Hero. “Does he ever talk about a guy named Deku?”

Uravity and Mirko nodded simultaneously.

“Well, that’s me!”

“NO SHIT! What was he like as a snotty brat?” Mirko asked as she smiled animalistically.

“Who’s asking?”

“His old sensei during Internships who is best friends with his mom!”

Izuku hummed, but as he turned around, his eyelid twitched. Mom used to be best friends with Auntie Mitsuki…

…

Eh, at least Aunt Mitsuki had finally learned to move on.

“Has my Aunt Mitsuki ever told you about the times he shit himself the first started using his quirk?”

PFFFFFFT!

Uravity put both of her hands over her mouth in an attempt to quell her laughter while Mirko laughed loudly as she hit Izuku in the back, causing the green-haired man to yelp out in pain. The mechanical limb was made out of titanium after all. “Ah, I can tell you and I are going to get along great! ”

“What’s next on the agenda?”

Uravity hummed to herself, tapping a finger on her chin. “Well, the rest of the Administration is currently tallying up the points for the Practical Hero Exam.”

“And tomorrow, Creati, Chargebolt, Requiem, and I are going to meet with Aizawa to split up the Heroic Course Candidates into Class 1A and 1B,” Mirko added as she rested her metal hands on the back of her head.

“And after that, the Administration, excluding the Core Education Staff, Rescue Specialists, and Guidance Counselors, are going to be recording holographic projections of Hero Class acceptance letters.”

“And how long until the first day of Class?”

“Two weeks.” “Two weeks.” The two women said in unison causing Izuku to chuckle. Perfect, I can start investigating the whereabouts of the remaining PLF members starting tonight.

“Well, thank you ladies. I’ll be off now to work then!”

“See ya,” Mirko said as she entered the staff lounge.

Izuku smiled before turning to Uravity who didn’t pause her strides. “Where are you off to, Uravity-san?”

“I am heading to my agency, it’s not too far away so I can walk.” Uravity offered as she smiled as she continued walking down the. “And please, call me Uraraka! We are going to be working with each other from now on.”

“Okay, Uraraka-san. May I join you? I am pretty interested in your quirk, and I have a few questions to ask about it.” Izuku asked as he pulled out a notebook and pen.

Uraraka raised an eyebrow as she saw the notebook and pen. “Huh? I thought Principal Aizawa said you were quirkless.”

“That I am,” Izuku continued to smile, but his eyes narrowed to analyze what type of person he was going to work with for the foreseeable future, readily expecting quirkless targeted bigotry.

“Then where did you pull that out from?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Uraraka was silent for a few more moments before shrugging. “Sure. Let me just change out of my costume.”

Izuku let out a sigh of relief. Uraraka had no problem with his quirklessness after all. “Okay. Let me change too, I don’t want to look like I fight the GOC for sport.”

Uraraka giggled before looking at his head. “The cat ears, I saw them moving during the exams. Are those part of a feline lineage mutation?”

Izuku lifted his baseball cap to reveal the head of green hair lacking a pair of cat ears. “Nope, headband with neuron sensors that detect movements of the head. My mother gave it to me and you will always see me wearing them as I am also a member of the Wild, Wild Pussycats.”

Uraraka gasped dramatically. The cat ears were a lie!

Izuku smiled as he tapped the pen on his notebook multiple times, satisfied with the drawing of Uravity in her iconic space walk pose. It was a rough sketch of course but when the subject of the sketch caught a glimpse of it she had to do a double take, eyes widening as he drank in the detailing, which was… scarily accurate.

“Holy crap, Midoriya,” the bubbly brunette gasped as she grabbed the edge of the green-haired man’s notebook, tilting herself over the seat he was sitting on to get a closer look. “This is really nice! Did you take art lessons or something?”

“No, I have been drawing in my notebook consistently since I was four,” Izuku said as he felt her chest pushing down on his shoulder. ‘Hm. Firm…’

“Dang! No wonder it’s so good after almost thirty years of practice.”

“Even since before I learned I will never develop a quirk; quirks have been fascinating to me. I would go to forums and watch the news to see the newest heroes on the scene and write about their quirks. And when I was 14, I learned that I could make a living off of it, so I went to college and got my PhD in Quirk Studies. And now I am considered the most successful Quirk Analyst globally.”

“What made you want to come work at UA?”

“I have been traveling all over the world for so long. It gets tiring. Coming back to my hometown to work at the high school I had always dreamed of attending would be a good change of pace.” Izuku explained, twitching a bit due to the weight pressing down on his shoulder.

“Ah, then I can’t wait to work with you, Dr. Midoriya.” She giggled as she smiled at him.

Izuku turned to face away from the brunette, blushing slightly. “Ugh, please just call me Midoriya, being called ‘Dr.’ gives off the wrong impression. Added to the fact that it is really embarrassing.”

“Well then get used to it, because you’re going to be experiencing a lot of teasing from me, Usagiyama, Yu, and Saiko-chan,” Uraraka said as she poked him.

“Uraraka.”

“Hm?”

“Your chest…”

Uraraka suddenly turned bright red before removing herself from Izuku as she suddenly was at the very far end of her office. “S- Sorry!”

Izuku only smiled smugly. ‘Who’s the tease now?’

CREAK

Izuku stopped as he turned to the noise. Looking through a dark alley, he saw a bit of movement at the other end. Although it was now the dead of night, the green-haired Blackout Hero’s honed senses allowed him to see clearly in the dark. Two men beside a car, looking in opposite directions of the street. And the third man was in the bobbing car, his arms reeled back multiple times to slam onto something unseen right beneath him.

However, Izuku saw a pair of skinny legs that most likely belonged to a female.

“Shut the fuck up you bitch.” The cat ears on top of Izuku’s head twitched at the vindication of the man’s voice as he continued to beat down on the woman below him.

He didn’t think twice.

He walked down the alley without making a sound, pulling out a series of throwing knives from his satchel. Spinning one on his fingers he smiled politely at the men. “Good evening boys.”

All three men freeze before turning to face Izuku. In the corner of his eye, he can see the state the woman was in. Her face was completely purple from bruising, with blood leaking out of every orifice of her face, the blouse she wore was ruined, revealing her undergarments, and there were red markings wrapped all around her neck.

“Who the fuck are you?” One of the assailants asked.

“Now what did she do to deserve that?” Izuku asked behind a façade of sadistic mock curiosity.

“The whore owed me a night, but she ran off with my money. Get the fuck out of here before we blind you for not turning the other way.”

All emotions bled away from Izuku’s face. “Hmm. I see.”

Suddenly, Izuku stopped spinning the knife in his hand, grabbing it by the blade before chucking it at the man on the right. The handle of the knife slammed into the man’s face and his skull and caused him to crash into the concrete with such force it caused his entire head to bounce. Three more throwing knives appeared in his hand, one pierced into the man on the left cheek, and two in the kneecaps of the man in the middle, causing him to scream out in pain before collapsing onto the ground.

As the men writhed on the ground in agony, Izuku quickly ran up to the car, putting on a pair of surgical gloves he had on hand, and checked the woman’s condition.

She wasn’t breathing…

…

There was no pulse…

…

She was gone.

Izuku backed up from the car, grabbing the woman’s skirt before lifting it. There was no blood in her groin area. He sighed as he slowly lowered the skirt, staring off into the distance for a few moments before standing up.

He didn’t know if he should sigh in relief. On one hand, he didn’t make it in time to save the woman. On the other hand, he prevented her body from being violated any further.

…

…

…

But that did not take away from the fact that these three animals were responsible for what happened to her. His face formed into a wide smile as all the light disappeared from his eyes.

He chuckled as he pulled out the curved blade of a karambit.

He turned to the three men, the two remaining conscious ones looking up in fear as the only things visible in the shadow overcasting Izuku’s face were his toxic green eyes.

They weren't his mission, but he was going to enjoy this anyway. 

The first thing that he did was cut their throats out of all three of them, so they wouldn’t be able to scream into the darkness of the night.

End of Chapter 2

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 3: The Pretender

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

February 26th, 2233
New Musutafu

Ochako found herself in the middle of a large crowd, their faces contorted into ones of shock and pale-faced horror at the gruesome scene in front of them.

Suspended off the ground by a series of ropes, three corpses hanged from nooses, their blood caking their clothes and their chests, slowly dripping from their feet onto the concrete below, staining the ground into a dark red hue. Ochako swallowed the bit of bile that formed in the back of her throat, unconsciously taking a step forward as she began passing through the crowd.

She pushed her way to the front of the crowd, only to be stopped by a police officer before she could go any further, a line of bright yellow police tape acting as a barrier between the crowd and the crime scene. Finally, being able to get a closer look at the victims, she was able to soak in every gory detail.

The three victims were male, somewhere between twenty and thirty. The hanging corpse on the left had a deep wound on the jaw, no doubt by a knife. The corpse on the right’s nose was completely broken, possibly by a blunt object that caused massive bruising. Finally, there was the man in the middle. His entire face was contorted, broken beyond repair, swollen so much that most of his other facial features were ruined. His pants were completely red, almost as if they were dyed like that from the factory, but there was significant tearing in them on his kneecaps and groin. Most significantly, his shirt was torn open, and carved into his chest area was a single word:

“Murderer”

Below that, there was an upside-down ‘t’ carved into his abdomen.

Each noose was cutting deep into the neck, coating the brown rope into an ugly dark red. And the smell, it’s one of the few things she still couldn’t stand, even to this day.

“Good grief.” A familiar, tired voice muttered.

Ochako finally tore her eyes away from the three bodies to look deeper into the alleyway. Standing there and rubbing the temples of his forehead was a short man with long hair resembling balls, wearing a dark purple jumpsuit and a large yellow scarf. Instantly, the Anti-Gravity Hero’s face brightened up before going back to serious.

She pulls out her hero ID and flashes it to the officer, who gives it a look before nodding his head at Ochako, raising the police tape to allow her through. She tried not to shudder as she passed under the three bodies, purposefully avoiding the large pool of blood to not dirty the bottom of her nice, warm boots. Hearing the sounds of footsteps, Pluton looked up, eyes registering Uraraka in front of him.

“Ochako.”

“Minoru.”

“Welcome to the clown show.” Minoru sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut. Even the large scarf couldn’t hide the dark rings under her friend’s eyes. “I don’t suppose you have a coffee on you?”

Ochako warily glanced at her, tragically empty can of coffee. “Not anymore.”

“Of course.” The ball-haired man drawled in annoyance.

The brunette frowned. Of her two underground coworkers and friends, Minoru was more resilient compared to Shinso, able to come off long night shifts and missions without sleep deprivation taking a toll on his health and attitude, a massive improvement from their first year of UA, that’s for sure. So, him acting this way is worrying, to say the least.

“Long night?”

“It wasn’t the night that pissed me off, Ocha, it was this horseshit,” Minoru grunted bitterly. “I didn’t even notice it until two hours ago.”

The brunette’s eyes widened in shock before she checked the time on her phone. 7:38 AM. He found the bodies right at sunrise.

“For a whole night, I was ignorant of this. In my sector too.”

Ochako sighed sadly, patting her friend on the back. More than a decade ago, she wouldn’t even consider going near him. His perverted nature and completely backward heroic mindset alienated him from the rest of his classmates, especially the girls. It wasn’t until Katsuki Bakugou kicked his ass five ways from Sunday for groping Tsu during the USJ, a time of crisis, did Minoru begin to realize how badly he needed to change. He took it upon himself to personally apologize to all of the girls, especially Tsu. All of the girls were reluctant to accept him, but his down the road proved he finally did change.

An internship with Aizawa-sensei, choosing to join Kirishima in helping save Bakugou from the LOV after the attack on the Summer Camp, pulling his weight during the Wars. Sacrificing his body to save civilians from multiple villains at the tail end of the Wars. Ochako began to admire him as a hero. By the end of their third year, he, Ochako, and Katsuki became the best of friends, much to the blonde boy’s denial.

“Minoru,” Ochako asked him one day out of the blue during lunch, causing the now 4’5 boy to hum in acknowledgment as he fiddled with his mechanical right arm. “I never asked this before, but why did you choose Pluton as your hero name?”

“Remember my first costume during our first year?” He asked.

Ochako shuddered at the memory of the grape bowl diaper that he used to wear, in a cringe-worthy attempt to seem marketable. “Yeah…”

“Well, as you know that was a marketing bait ploy, to seem appealing to children so I can sell way more merchandise, like the Wild, Wild Pussycats or Wash. Obviously, after the USJ I decided to abandon that. I wanted to be a hero off of my merit, not because I was a character.” He paused to flex all of his fingers on his mechanical arm, smiling as he felt that the grip strength was perfect. “So, I reawakened and rebranded myself, this time as an underground hero, just like Aizawa-sensei. Pluto was the God of the Underworld in Roman mythology, so I figured if I couldn’t be the king of popularity, then I’d be the king of the Underground. And thus, The Renaissance Hero: Pluton.”

“I see…” She nodded before speaking up again. “What was your first choice of a hero name before you rebranded?”

Minoru tensed, face crimson red. He chuckled awkwardly as he suddenly found the ceiling very interesting. “Uh… The Fresh-Picked Hero: Grape Juice-”

PFFFFFT- Ochako couldn’t help but do a spit take as she began to howl with laughter, much to Minoru’s embarrassment and exasperation.

“Yeah. Yeah… Hyuck it up, won’t you?”

“God, that fucking name  sucked.” Katsuki, who hadn’t said a word up to that point said as he cackled along with Ochako.

“Oh, I am sorry, Mr. Assblaster. What was your first name again? Great Explosion Murder God?” Mineta barked at the blonde. “Talking about shit first hero names when you were the only one to get shot down by Midnight-sensei!”

“What the hell did you say grape-fucker? I’ll kill you!” Katsuki, oh so gracefully fired back at the ball-haired boy.

Ochako giggled as she watched the two boys try to strangle each other.

“This isn’t all of it,” Minoru finally piped back up, gesturing to the gallows attracting the attention of the massive crowd. “There was a fourth body.”

Ochako’s stomach dropped. She began to trail behind the ball-haired man as they went deeper into the alleyway. At the very end was a car with one of its doors open. Peering through the door into the car’s backseat was a white cloth stain with a twinge of red. Minoru grabbed the white cloth and peeled it away from the car, revealing the disheveled corpse of a young woman. The brunette said nothing, covering her mouth with her hand as she saw the state her body was in.

Her clothes were torn, her face swollen and bloodied (but not to the extent where she was unrecognizable, like one of the hanging bodies.) Her entire neck was various shades of purple and red, they were strangulation bruises.

“… was she-”

“No. There was no blood on her legs, no signs of trauma on her vagina, nor were there recent tears in her hymen.” Minoru quickly reassured his friend. “I did ID her. Her purse was in the car with her. 22-year-old Michi Miyata, a frequent showgirl at New Musutafu’s Red Light District.”

He hands Ochako the photo ID. She looked down at it, seeing how beautiful she looked before her untimely, brutal demise.

Ochako let out a quick sigh before handing the ID back to the ball-haired underground hero before something under the opened car door caught her eye. “Then what is that?”

She crouched down to look at quite a large puddle of blood. In the center were two spherical objects covered in blood. Wanting to get a closer look at them she pulled out a box of rubber gloves from her purse, grabbing a pair from it to not contaminate the crime scene. She put them on her hand with a snap. Afterward, she then reached for them-

“I wouldn’t touch them if I were you,” Minoru’s words caused Ochako to freeze. She turned her head to look back at him with a confused expression. “Those are the testicles of one of the other dead bodies.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Ochako screamed out as she jumped multiple feet in the air, away from the puddle. As her feet touched the ground, she gagged loudly. “Guh. Whose… whose are they?”

“Most likely from the middle of the hangmen. His pants are completely drenched in blood around his groin…”

“Who would do this?”

“Well, I know who this did,” Minoru rutted his thumb out, pointing at the backseat of the car which he covered back up with the white drape out of respect for the dead. “The middle guy had bruising on his right fist, and some older scratches on his face before it was broken. Those came from Miyata, judging from the dried blood under her fingernails. She was struggling before she died. From what I understand, those three, or at least one of them were in the process of beating her to death, when a knife-wielding vigilante came in and attacked these three men.”

Minoru began his trek back to the front of the alleyway, toward the three hanging bodies. “One’s nose was broken, another was stabbed in the jaw, and the third one had both of his kneecaps and his crotch stabbed. Then our vigilante slit their throats and grabbed some rope from God knows where and strung them up as an example.”

“How do you know that the vigilante cut their throats?”

Minoru pointed at the severed neck of one of the bodies. “The lacerations are too smooth to be done by anything other than a razor-sharp blade. The only reason both ends look torn rather than cut is because the rope holding up their weight aggravated the wound further.”

Knife-wielding vigilante… Ochako thought to herself.

“Himiko?”

Ochako meant to whisper the name, but Minoru heard her anyway. “No, this isn’t Toga’s MO. She’d drain the blood of all four of them without discrimination. But there are no other wounds on Miyata, and this seems too messy. Plus, she wouldn’t stick around to make an… example out of them.”

Ochako glared at her friend’s sudden hostile tone, only to be met with scrutinizing, squinting eyes. She already knows why.

“We are not doing this.” Ochako scoffed as she looked away.

“Ocha, you can’t expect Himiko to suddenly change after eighteen years!”

If there was one point of contention between the two friends, it was their stance on Himiko Toga.

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“You care for her. You know her struggles because you were the only one she told her past to. But there is no saving her… She’s killed thousands. If, even by the slimmest of margins, she was the one who did this, it will not make up for two decades of murder! Hell, she still tries to kill you every chance she gets. You need to stop believing you can save everyone. You and I know better than anyone that we can’t.”

“I know, Minoru,” She hissed through her teeth. Tears threaten to form in her eyes as she knows that he is right, but she is trying to be blissfully ignorant of that grim reality. “It’s just I-”

“Wait, Ochako. You see that?”

The brunette turned to see her friend looking up at one of the hanging bodies. Looking up in the same direction, she noticed something sticking out of the middle-hung man’s pocket, glistening in the morning sunlight. She quickly removed her gravity and carefully floated up to the hanging corpse. There, she grabbed a small, blood-smeared plastic bag with a piece of paper inside.

She landed back on the ground and showed Minoru. The piece of paper was an index card, 3x5 inches in size. Flipping it over revealed handwriting.

“I apologize that I could not save her. But let this be an example to those who wish harm upon others. – The Man Eater.”

“Looks like our vigilante friend here is already sending a message,” Minoru muttered, causing Ochako to huff a small laugh.

“This guy is already insane. Who died and made them judge, jury, and executioner?”

“Eh, you know vigilantes. Everyone wants to be the next Stain. Man Eater, hm?”

“C’mon, let’s start getting this down. I wonder why the ambulances haven’t arriv-”

SKREE!

Ochako and Minoru both jumped as they were alerted to the sounds of screeching tires. Looking toward the crowd, multiple people in well-tailored three-piece suits duck under the police tape, rapidly approaching the two heroes.

“Oh shit, fun’s over.” Minoru snarked bitterly. “It’s the fuzz.”

Fuzz – slang term for Police. Hero slang for the ruling party over heroes. In this case, the Hero Public Safety Commission.

“Pluton, Uravity.” A man with spiraling orange hair nodded his head respectfully at the two heroes. “Takahiro Hayasaka, Hero Public Safety Commission. I have been sent by the O5 Council to notify you that this case has been given the status of Class S Sensitivity.”

“WHAT!” Both of them angrily snapped at the Commission Agent, who remained stone-faced.

“This is now the business of the PHYSICS Division, you are not to interfere, or investigate privately.”

Class S Sensitivity Cases were a hero’s worst nightmare. Ever since the attacks at the Anato Industrial District five years ago, the HPSC had pulled cases off shelves to keep them a mystery permanently, for reasons anyone could guess. Minoru grits his teeth in anger. More open future my ass. “Why the hell does a possible, street-level vigilante case get the Red Tape?”

“All I can tell you, Pluton, is that the person is one not to be trifled with, even as a professional hero…” Hayasaka trailed off before he started shaking his head. “Have a nice day.”

Both turned to skulk off.

“Oh, Uravity.” The brunette winced as she turned and saw the orange-haired agent holding out his hand expectantly. “The card.”

Ochako awkwardly chuckled as she gave the plastic bag with the vigilante’s message on it to the HPSC Agent. He nodded as he turned away to help assess and clean the crime scene. The gravity heroine frowned as she continued her exit of the alleyway, standing at the entrance was a pissed-off-looking Minoru.

“This is bullshit. This is fucking bullshit!” He seethed as he stomped out the alleyway along with Ochako. The crowd had since dispersed, leaving the Renaissance Hero to his fury. “Does the PHYSICS division even exist? I feel like it is just a scheme to cover up their fuck ups. Isn’t this new administration supposed to be for the interests of the people first? ”

“I hate it too, Mino… But it’s out of our hands now.”

“Did you see how the agent looked when talking about the vigilante that did this? He knows something and is leaving us in the dark. ‘Someone not to be messed with, even as a pro hero.’ Who could he be talking about?’”

“I don’t know…” Ochako sighed for what felt like the fifth time in the past ten minutes. “Whatever they are trying to cover up is something of the same caliber as All For One… It’s someone so evil that it will cause the public to panic…”

“Yeah…” Minoru grunted before turning to Ochako. “I am going home and going to bed. Screw showering, the more I think the more I want to tear out my hair.”

“But Mino,” Ochako smirked, trying to break the tension. “You don’t have any hair!”

“Yeah, piss off, Kirby.” He bit back good-naturedly.

As they both exchanged farewells, Ochako returned to her thoughts. Who are they hiding?

March 8th, 2233
UA High School

“No one truly knows where Quirks, then called ‘Meta-Abilities,’ came from. It’s been a debate that has continued to rock the scientific community for two hundred years since the birth of Ming Hsu, the Glowing Baby. However, one of the leading theories relating to the advent of quirks came from Dr. Estrella Vegapunk from Spain. Dr. Vegapunk believed that Meta-Abilities came as a result of a mutation in our genetic code. It seems to hold some weight until you realize that this mutation occurred multiple times in different people, all unrelated to each other, all over the world. It had to be something else.”

In all honesty, Izuku had low expectations for his first day as a teacher. He believed that his class would be the most boring out of the four core classes, just as it had bored him out of his mind during college. The monotony of all of the lectures made him hate his passion for a while. He feared his students would share the same sentiment.

However, he couldn’t help but crack a smile as he looked upon the attentive gazes of the students from Class 1B, eyes widened in wonder.

“I do have my own theory, as this class will explore multiple theories on quirks and how they work. From the plausible to the downright ridiculous.” He paused as he held the sides of his tactical vest. “In the decades leading up to the birth of the Glowing Baby, there were two major global outbreaks. The first was the SARS-CoV-2 outbreak, however, it was inconsequential to the advent of quirks, so we will ignore it. The second one, however, was referred to at that time as ‘the New Plague.’ It ravaged Asia, Europe, and the Americas for five whole years, killing upwards to about three to four hundred million people.”

“Those who survived infection experienced abnormal changes in their DNA, however, the changes were so minor that it did not affect the way they lived all the way up until their death from various, unrelated causes. That was until the next Generation that followed after the New Plague went extinct. The Generation that had the Glowing Baby. Eventually, other nations had their own Foundational Meta-Human birth, a firebreather in Italy, a boy with radioactive abilities in Bosnia Herzegovina, and a girl with dozens of limbs in Nepal. Suddenly, everyone seemed to have all but forgotten about the New Plague. Because the study of disease became redundant in the face of Meta-Abilities.”

“How can such a change in our genetic sequence give us powers? I do not believe we will ever understand. From now until the heat death of the universe. Thank God too because if everyone did understand the mechanics of Quirks, I’d be out of a job.”

The entire classroom broke into a chuckle. Izuku couldn’t resist the urge to give a huff of amusement as he relocated himself, sitting on the desk to continue his spiel. “There was this one group of… psychos. Is anyone here familiar with the Church of the Rainbow Emperor? Or the Nijikami? ”

There was a resounding lull in the room, which caused Izuku to purse his lips and nod.

“I don’t blame you. At the Dawn of Quirks, there was a Cult from Volgograd, Russia. They believed that there was a celestial being, a Progenitor if you will, that bestowed the gift of Quirks to people around the world, basing them off the powers seen in works of fiction, like comic books, television shows, or movies… Insane? Spectacularly so. Were they all stupid? I…” He paused, tilting his head in contemplation. “I do not think so. Because they were obsessed with trying to prove that a theoretical man was responsible for the creation of Meta-Abilities, they had scientists researching Quirks and their origins. And thanks to them, we have all this terminology regarding quirks. ‘Emitter, Transformation, Mutation’ all were coined and divided by the Church. They even were responsible for renaming the New Plague, rebranding it as ‘The Rapid Evolutionary Virus.’”

Izuku laughed to himself before shaking his head.

“No, I lied, that was the revised version. The dumbasses in the Church called It ‘The Rainbow Emperor’s Vitriol!’” A chorus of face palms resonated in the classrooms with some muffled laughter. “They both had the same acronym, in the end, REV. That name was just horrible.”

RIIIIIIIIING!

Izuku’s cat ear perked up at the sound of the bell. He looked at his wristwatch and his eyebrows shot up in realization.

“That’s the last class of the day, you’re all dismissed!” He heard the sounds of shuffling and the idle chatter of students. “Don’t forget to grab your textbooks, and if you want, I can recommend the library to get you one of my books. Keep yourselves warm! Have a nice day!”

He watched as all the heroic students funneled out of the door, smiling as Queenie gave him a small wave before joining Kirishima-kun and her other friends as they exited. As the door closed, Izuku’s smile faded, sighing in exhaustion from how many times he had done his lecture today. He grabbed a clear glass bottle of water and began to drink from it, soothing his throat.

He doesn’t remember the last time he spoke for this long. As his civilian/quirk counselor persona, he had in-depth conversations with people about their quirks, but only for about a few hours until their appointment ended. But as Manticore, the most he spoke was interrogation and monologue. The realization hit him that he needed to do these lectures hundreds more times for the foreseeable future halfway through the second class. He is going to become complacent.

Hm… Maybe I should get an assistant. Izuku thought to himself as he leaned farther back into his chair. It would make my life a lot easier. I should consult the Rat-

Knock, knock, knock.

The black-toting member of the Wild, Wild Pussycats turned, only to find a man with a head of electric yellow hair standing at the doorway with a large grin on his face. “Yo, Midoriya!”

“Chargebolt-san.” Izuku bowed his head slightly. “To what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“Oh c’mon, Midoriya. There ain't no need to be all professional! Technically since class is out, it’s after hours. Call me, Denki.”

“Kaminari.”

The Stun Gun Hero sighed before smiling again. “Good enough! Anyways, we have a tradition here…”

“Oh?”

“At the end of the first week of school, me and the boys go out to this bar to get absolutely hammered. We then spend all of Sunday recovering before classes start back up on Monday. It was one that started after the Wars, and usually, Ishiyama-sensei would join us, buuuuut he’s retired now. Thankfully we won’t be a man down because you’re here! We fellas need to stick together, after all! So, what do you say?”

Izuku was silent for a few moments, resting his chin on his fist with one index finger up, tapping his chin.

“Who pays the tab?”

Kaminari’s eyes widened in surprise before he let out a loud laugh. “Oh, oh man. Now you’re asking the good questions!”

His smile was manic now, almost as if he was plotting. “The person who pays for the entire tab is the person who arrives last at the bar. So far, the night's biggest loser for five years straight has been Hitoshi- I mean, Requiem.”

“Sounds like fun. I’m game.”

“Awesome,” The yellow-haired man smacked his hand onto the bottom of his fist. “I’ll text you the details!”

Kaminari then left the room with a wave, leaving Izuku to stew in his thoughts. If I am not going to be on patrol as much, I am going to need to make friends with my coworkers if I want to survive. The three bastards from a few weeks back did nothing to insatiate the Manticore, if he doesn’t find and kill at least one member of the ex-PLF soon, he’s going to pop like a balloon.

Izuku’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out of one of the pockets of his tactical vest, only to realize it was Kaminari sending him the location of the bar. Well, might as well go home to change.

“I don’t know why you guys do this.”

“C’mon, Hito-Hito. Lighten up!” Denki chuckled. “The best advice I got from Pops was ‘there’s a sucker born every minute you gotta take ‘em for all he’s got!’”

“And you really think the best way to integrate Midoriya into the UA staff is to haze him? Give him a challenge and subvert his expectations to make him pay for the entire bill, all as part of a bet?” Hitoshi asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“Hitoshi, be happy that you don’t have to pay for the entire tab this year.” Minoru cut in as he walked alongside the two hero teachers.

“Okay, okay fine. But I walk in first just in case.” The gloomy underground hero said, receiving a pat on the back by his shorter coworker.

When the trio made it to their destination. Denki opened the door for his two good friends, allowing them to soak in the beauty of the inside. The interior was completely made of laminated dark oak wood, and it smells of both alcohol and pine, mixing well to form a warm atmosphere that can put any patron in a trance of relaxation. Even affecting someone as uptight as Hitoshi, whose shoulders drop ever so slightly.

“Chargebolt, Mineta, Shinso.” An old man with a thick, white beard greeted the three happily. “Is it that time of the year, already?”

“That’s right, Pops!” Denki cheered enthusiastically. “This year looks like it’s going to be a doozy. This is the year when the next generation begins to learn how to be a hero. Katsuki’s daughter and Mina and Eijiro’s son are all in this one’s homeroom. Bastard. ”

Denki jutted his thumb out toward Hitoshi who looked away with an amused scoff.

“Oof, next generation already?” Pops groaned. “You’re making this old man feel older than he is.”

“Pops, you’re 70.” Minoru deadpanned.

“Ah, who gives a crap, Raisin Shit.” Pops flailed his arm dramatically. “70 years young and I can still kick your asses.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage, old man.” Denki’s face suddenly hardened as he clapped his hands together. “Alright Pops. Since Ken retired-”

“WHAT? Ken retired? Why the hell didn’t you tell me!”

“Not important! Anyways. There’s a new guy at UA. And since it’s his first year, I thought we’d get here early as a group to make him pay for tonight. All of it.” Denki was now grinning mischievously. “Just as you taught me!”

“Oh, really?” Pops laughed boisterously. “What’s he look like?”

“Green hair, cat ears. Looks like a shrub.”

Pop’s laughter suddenly ceased as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh, kinda like that guy over there?”

He points behind them. All three men slowly turn with wide eyes, only to find fucking Midoriya sitting at a booth, sipping from a large mug full of beer. He was wearing his gray cat ears, a bright lime-colored Hawaiian shirt with light blue tropical flower designs, and finally a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. His face sported a wide, shit-eating grin as he waved at his three coworkers.

“WHAT THE SHIT?” All three simultaneously scream in shock, with the electric man frantically checking his phone for the time. “MIDORIYA, IT’S 5 O’CLOCK, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?”

“Very simple Kaminari. My mentor once told me, ‘If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. And if you’re late don’t even bother showing up!’”

“How long have you been here?” Hitoshi asked as he blinked owlishly at the green-haired quirk counselor.

“An hour. I had a feeling that you guys were going to pull a fast one on me. So, I decided to go home, change, and go straight to the bar. I have been pregaming ever since.” Midoriya brought the ug up to his lips, where he then downed the entire glass with a few gulps, slamming it back down with a content exhale. “This is my third beer.”

Denki gasped in horror at his miscalculation. He suddenly felt a large, strong hand placed on his shoulder. He turned to face the person that was behind him, only to find Pops smiling a bit too warmly. “So, who was the last person through the door?”

The Stun Gun Hero began to sweat.

Several Hours Later…

Denki laid his face in the palms of his hands as he watched the amount of shot glasses, liquor bottles, and beer mugs lay strewn across the table, while Minoru and Hitoshi laughed wildly (something rarely seen done by the latter) as Midoriya told his stories about his escapades in Europe when he lived in Switzerland.

“General Scamander walked in wearing nothing but a small towel, so high off of his tits that he doesn’t even know where he is. He looks between me and the Prime Minister. And the mad bastard had the balls to do this, ‘Hello, Jean. How are you.’” Midoriya then stood up before placing his leg on top of the booth he was once standing on, smacking his right thigh loudly. This causes Minoru to wheeze so loudly, causing Denki to wince in concern. “Man, I had a clear view of his ass and balls dude.”

Midoriya stopped to lean on his hand, letting out a small laugh. Minoru was recovering from his laughing fit, smacking his metallic arm onto the table, causing all of the glasses to jolt. “Oh man, you’re killing me here, Midoriya.”

“Yeah…” Was all Hitoshi could get out before loudly retching. He quickly slid off the booth, hands and knees onto the ground before vomiting loudly onto the laminated hardwood floor. He then rolled onto his back, completely winded and slipping in and out of consciousness. “That was really gross…”

“ Ah …” Minoru whined out, trying hard not to have another laughing fit. “Pops! We got a man down!”

“HAH, you lot.” Pops gawped loudly at his favorite patrons’ (yes, now including Midoriya for his wild stories) antics, swinging from a flask of his own. “Don’t worry about it, yeah. I’ll clean up the mess. Lord knows that any of you can do it!”

“What… "What about you, Midoriya?” The Renaissance Hero panted. “You drank enough beer… to… to drown a small island. And you still look completely fine.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m fucked up.” The green-haired cat man said, taking off his large glasses and blinking a few times in an attempt to ward away the fuzziness in his sight.

“You know, what Pops?” Denki said as he downed one last cup of sake. “I think we’re done…”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Pops said with a smile. “Well, in any case, don’t be a stranger. Come by any time you’d like! Especially you, Midoriya-san! I need to hear all of your stories sometime before I die.”

“Aw, don’t say that Pops,” Midoriya chuckled. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Well, now. For tonight’s biggest loser~” Pops giggled, cracking his fingers. “NOJIKO!”

“WHAT!” A woman’s voice erupted from the very back of the bar.

“Ring up this poor bastard! Take him for all he’s got!”

Denki pulled out his credit card, grumbling curses at Midoriya’s bloodline for undermining him at his own game. That was until he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. He turned, only to be met with a pair of glasses and large, green eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Kaminari. I got it.”

“What? No! I lost the challenge, I got it.”

“No, I insist! I am the new guy, and I am paying.”

“Absolutely not-”

“Chargebolt-san,” A sudden shiver ran through the electric yellow man’s spine at the sudden change in his new co-worker’s voice. What once was light and inviting, now cold and menacing. Midoriya snaked around Denki’s neck. “You’re married, right?”

“Y- Yeah. 7 years to the love of my life, Kyoka.”

“So then do me a favor, alright? You take that man,” Midoriya pointed at the now unconscious Hitoshi, who is now lying on his side courtesy of Pop’s concern. “Back home. And you, spend the rest of the night with your wife. And I will cover for all the shit that we drank. Got it?”

“Are you sure, Midoriya? I- It was a lot. And you just started to teach-”

“HAH! Please, Kaminari. Don’t look down on me.” He smiled a bit too widely as he produced a sleek, holographic, black card from his pocket. “I have worked with some of the world’s elite and a lot of heroes as a quirk analyst. I am paid upwards to the tens of thousands for what I do. My salary as a teacher is just another drop in the coffers.”

Denki could do nothing but blink at Midoriya. He sighed and slumped his shoulders, scratching the back of his neck. “Fine. But I will pay next time. And I mean it! ”

“I’m sure you will.” Midoriya smacked him on the back before walking to the counter to pay. “Goodnight, Kaminari. I will see you Monday!”

“Yeah, yeah.” The Stun Gun Hero sighed in exasperation. “G’night Midoriya.”

Denki picked up Hitoshi from off the ground and joined Mineta who was now sipping from a glass bottle of water, praying to God that he wouldn’t have too bad of a hangover tomorrow. As they all exited the bar, Izuku let out a loud sigh of social exhaustion. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the night, but he had always been to himself most of the time. But seeing as he was invited (even if it was a ploy to get him to pay for all of the drinks to begin with,) he forced himself to have a good time. So instead of nursing a hangover all Sunday, he’s going to be recovering his social battery instead. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the haziness of his vision continued to worsen from the alcohol. I shouldn’t have drank so much before the others got there…

“Here’s your total.” A woman’s voice emanated in front of him as a skinny, well-manicured, tan hand handed him a piece of paper detailing the price of everything he and the three heroes drank that night.

'95,000 Yen. (~$634)'

Whatever. He handed the woman his black credit card. When he finally looked up, he found the woman who was ringing him up staring at it. 

She was quite slim, with a head of light blue hair with a raspberry-colored headband complimenting her dark blue colored eyes and light pink lipstick. She wore a blue apron over a yellow tank top. She blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if wanting to say something, but it was like her vocal cords couldn’t keep up with the myriad of thoughts whirling in her head.

She turned to look Izuku dead in the eye. “This is a Black Card…”

“Yeah?”

“Not even some of the top heroes in the world can afford something like this.”

“… yeah. Like I told my friends. I am a lot better off than one might think.”

“I have never seen you around before.” The tan woman asked, looking Izuku up and down with an analytical eye. “You new here?”

“Mmm, not exactly.” Izuku hummed as his eyes began to wander a bit too close to the woman’s quite supple chest- He shook his head. “I’m only here for work.”

“UA teacher, right? Those three you were with are a regular here.”

“Yeah, I am. I teach Quirk Theory.”

“You don’t exactly look like a top hero…”

“Because I am not.” Izuku chuckled. “I am a Support Contractor for the Wild, Wild Pussycats. And technically their man in the chair. I use a series of drones to search for survivors of a disaster and coordinate their rescue along with the rest of the Pussycats. Technically, I’m an unofficial member.”

“Oh. The Wild, Wild Pussycats?” She said with a shining glint in her cerulean eyes, of which Izuku can’t look away from. 

“Hehe. Yeah. ‘Sphinx, here to lend a paw.’” Izuku said as he scratched the back of his head.

“They’re my favorite hero group! I actually met Ragdoll once when I was sixteen!”

“Really! You met-” He bit his lip slightly to not accidentally refer to the heroine as ‘Mom.’ “Ragdoll!”

“Yup! She was really nice. So…” Her face turned mischievous. She slowly leaned in toward Izuku revealing a bit more of her cleavage to him. But Izuku only stared into her eyes in memorization. “Do you do their introduction dance as well?”

Heat crept onto the green-haired man’s face, highlighting his freckles a bit more much to the amusement of the blue-haired woman. “U- Um… No. No, I do not!”

“Somehow I don’t believe you, kitty-cat.” She giggled, resting her chin on the backs of her palms. “Do you have a name, Kitty?”

“Izuku M- Midoriya…”

“Nojiko.” She smiled brightly. “You said you teach quirk theory. Not a lot of people are qualified or have the know-how on quirks. From what I’ve seen, there are a lot of assholes out there that disregard the fundamentals and base their knowledge on out-of-date pseudoscience, and are blinded by the ‘rose-tinted glasses’ of hero society. Spreading that false information like the flu. Like thinking people are quirkless because of-”

“Extra toe joint. Yeah.” Izuku scoffed, he wanted to be upset at the mention of such persistent scientific myth but couldn’t help but smirk at her hatred for heroes’ effect on society. “That pisses me off the most.”

“Then I sure hope you aren’t one of those quacks, Kitty-cat,” Nojiko said sternly.

“W- Well if it makes you feel better, I am an internationally recognized and World Hero Association Board Certified Quirk Counselor. I am a graduate of Stanford University. And I published three books about quirk studies that earned multiple honors. I have also worked directly with some of the world leaders! Like the Prime Minister, the English Royal Family, and the President of the United States.”

Nojiko blinked.

“That’s one hell of a resume, Midoriya.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s really hot.”

“HUH?” Nojiko couldn’t help but snort at the broccoli that was defying the very laws of nature as it transformed into a strawberry. “Um… It’s been really nice talking to you, Nojiko-san. But I think I might call it a night. I- I drank a lot and I need to prepare myself for class on Monday.”

“Aw. But the night is just getting started…” She mewled in a voice that caused Izuku’s cat ears and (something else) to twitch. “How about we… go over to your place. So we can have a drink by ourselves.”

“No thanks. I- I don’t want to impose on your job.”

“Ah screw this place, Pops doesn’t really care.” Nojiko giggled. “You’re a quirk counselor, right? How about you do a quirk analysis on me after our drink?”

That…

That’s something Izuku can get behind.

“Damn… Midoriya. Your place is kind of…”

“Big? Yeah, sorry about that-”

“I was going to say rather plain,” Nojiko said with a slight frown. For a possible multimillionaire and one of the most influential people in the world regarding Quirk Analysis, living in the penthouse of one of the largest housing complexes in New Musutafu… His apartment was the opposite of extravagant. Domestic?

“Um… I don’t like how I feel around really high-end expensive things. It makes me feel… suffocated.” Izuku responded with a look in his eyes that Nojiko couldn’t decipher. “Hell, even my shirt was something I found at the thrift store.”

The blue-haired woman hummed halfheartedly, looking at her surroundings.

A large 8k television, a beautiful view looking over the New Musutafu skyline. A… rather large collection of merchandise, which predominantly displays Ground Zero. She scrunched her nose at that. Her eyes turned to a plush, white couch; it was kept in such perfect condition that there wasn’t even a stain! Did he even sit here at all? Welp, once I am done here that will change.

“I have some bottles of liquor I imported from Tlaquepaque if you wanna try some out,” Izuku said as he pointed toward his kitchen.

“I have an idea. It will speed up the process so you can get to your analysis of me much faster.”

“Oh?” Suddenly Izuku felt himself being yanked downward by his shirt collar as Nojiko smashed her pink lips into his. “O- Oh.” 

Nojiko’s arms finally gave out. She panted lying on Midoriya’s chest, inhaling the musk emanating from the thin sheen of sweat all over his body, while her green-haired partner tied up and threw away the condom.

Once the pulse ringing throughout her entire body faded away, she finally mustered the strength to move, rolling off the scarred chest of her partner, only leaving a hand on it to run her fingers on each faded mark.

“That was great, huh?” She let out an airy chuckle as she waited for a response from him, only to widen her eyes at the sound of low, steady breathing. HE FELL ASLEEP!

.

.

.

Good, this will make things a whole lot simpler. Nojiko’s smile widened to unnatural lengths as stood to grab her pants. As she walked, her skin started to quickly melt and slop onto the ground in a pile of mud, her skin once a healthy tan became a pale white. Her legs were still a bit shaky, but it was no matter of her sheer will. Slowly, a pale hand pulled out a switchblade from the back pocket of her discarded pants.

Flip! The sound of the razor-sharp knife flipping from out of the handle resonated in the room, causing Izuku’s cat ears to twitch but not stir.

“That’s too bad…” Nojiko’s voice slowly bled away until it turned into one that was more vindictive, and psychotic. “I really wanted to do that analysis.”

She giggled as she straddled Izuku again, pressing a knife up his neck, the tip dancing on top of his carotid artery. Tired, green eyes blinked open hazily, getting a good look at the woman’s face before glancing down at the knife threatening to puncture the skin and sever the blood vessel. He did not react as he closed his eyes once again.

“Sorry, I’m not into knife play.” He said flatly, as he turned his head toward his pillow.

“Aw, don’t be like that…” Himiko Toga cried with a frown, as she pushed down the tip of her knife harder, causing the faintest bit of blood to trickle from off the blade. “Aren’t you the faintest bit curious, Kitty-Cat?”

“Mmm. Himiko Toga. Quirk: ‘Transform,’ Quirk Class: Dependent. You are granted the ability to transform into anyone who you ingest the blood of, copying their physical appearance, voice, and limited DNA sequence. Approximately one up allows you to stay transformed for up to 48 hours, The Quirk Class came about as the danger of it depends if you truly love the person you take the appearance of, which then replicates their quirk for as long as you are transformed. Vestigial cat mutations include complex eyelids, cat eye structure, and fangs. As a result of your need to ingest human blood, your body developed an addiction to it, one that could lead to bouts of psychosis and suicidal thoughts should you not ingest at least a pint of blood for longer than 36 hours.” Izuku groaned before trying to shimmy his way to a more comfortable position on his pillow. “Now, whatever you are going to do, do it now.”

Himiko’s frown deepened as she was tempted to just slam the palm of her hand on the butt of her knife. But the lack of reaction from the green-haired man, the calmness of his entire body felt… wrong. She can even feel his heartbeat in her still sensitive core, steady. Too steady for the possibilities of how tonight is going to end.

“That’s it?” She asked as she leaned forward to get closer to Izuku’s face. “You want those to be your last words?”

“Darling, for the New Year, everyone else is giving up their unhealthy lifestyles. Me, I’m just giving up…” He replied steadfastly, causing the blonde-haired woman to scoff. “You got the drop on me, and from where I’m standing, there is no other option but to accept my fate.”

“… someone once told me ‘People show who they really are in their last moments.’” Himiko hummed as she carefully scraped the razor’s edge across Izuku’s throat, not puncturing the skin further. “So then who am I seeing, I- zu- ku~?”

Himiko smiled sadly at the memories of Tomura and the rest of the League in their prime. If only that motherfucker Ground Zero didn’t disintegrate him during the Final War. If only Magne, Spinner, and Jin didn’t die. Maybe they would still have been a great big family. But no, like everything else good in her life, society had to take that away from her. At least she still had Dabi and Compress…

“Me, you’re just seeing a simple man with simple tastes. A man who, like you, despises the unilateral quirkist hero society.”

“Then why work with them if you hate it so much?” She raised her knife higher and higher, ready to slam it down on Izuku’s throat so she could drink up all his delicious blood.

“Because everybody claims all they want is freedom, but what they really want… is order. What about you, Himiko Toga? Hm? Who am I seeing? The infamous commander of the Carmine Regiment,” Izuku finally opens his eyes to stare at Himiko, with green eyes so bright but so paradoxically dark that a shiver ran down her spine. “Or am I looking at the little lost girl who was chewed up and spit out by society before she even had a chance?”

“I- I-” Himiko’s golden orbs remained entranced by the pair of shining emeralds. Nothing in this world could ever frighten Himiko, not the prospect of dying, no heroes, nothing. But this… he… was something else. No amount of hatred she could muster can hold a candle to the look in Izuku’s eyes. One, not of a man, but of a monster. He’s a hero teacher… But… What the hell? Why am I shaking?

Himiko believes that the longer she stares at those green voids, the more likely it is to stare back. It’s almost as if she saw a skeleton form in them as it let out a high-pitched screech of vitriol…

Her breath hitched, as she quickly slid off Izuku's lap, back up to the farthest wall away from him, her slitted eyes the narrowest he had ever seen… She continued to stare as she reached for the door handle, quickly opening it before slipping through it.

Izuku lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling while the sounds of rummaging could be heard in the living room. After a couple of more seconds, he heard the front door of his apartment open. And silence.

“Bitch…” Izuku mumbled as he continued to lay splayed across his bed for a few more seconds.

With a groan he rolled off his bed, quickly grabbing his abandoned boxers, putting them on as he went into his closet. The hero shrine, as it is called by all those familiar with the green-haired man’s apartment, is a false front for something else. Turning on the lights of the closet, he completely ignored all of the action figures of the top 10 heroes of the past decade and immediately crouched down to the bottom. Grabbing a corner of the beige carpet, he peeled it off the ground to find a trap door. He searched for the handle for a few moments, before opening it to reveal a black case.

After carefully extracting the box from underneath his shrine floorboards, he placed it on his bed. Unclasping the latches and lifting the front, the maw of a lion stared back at Izuku. He quickly reached underneath his Manticore suit and grabbed a small phone, given to him by the WHA; the old model and specialized SIM card made calls on it completely untraceable. Perfect for Blackout Heroes needing to relay information about their dirty work.

RING, RING, RING

Shouta Aizawa let out a guttural, agonizing sound from his throat at the sudden interruption of his sleep. Rolling over from the person-shaped furnace with the cold expansiveness of the rest of his room, he reached for his phone, grumbling about murdering someone as he rubbed away the sleepiness from his remaining eye. After blinking a few times to readjust his sight to the light coming from his phone he could finally see who was calling him.

No number.

Only the image of an inverted cross.

“Shit…”

“Hm… Shouta.” A woman’s voice caused him to freeze as a pair of warm arms wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, sorry Emi, did I wake you?” Shouta apologized as he kissed his wife on the top of her seafoam-green head.

“’ts okay.” She mumbled, dark green eyes tiredly looking up at him. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine… But I have to take this…”

Emi hummed, releasing him from her grasp as she fell back asleep. Shouta smiled softly, only to harden again as he looked angrily at his phone. He stepped outside his bedroom, and walked down the hall to his office, which was soundproof. He answered his phone just as he opened the door, jamming it into his ear.

“What the fuck, Midoriya,” Shouta whispered furiously. Despite it being a certified soundproof room, the principal of UA and member of the O5 Council doesn’t take chances. “You know how fucking late it is?”

“I had a run-in with Himiko Toga.” The Blackout Hero on the other end stated, causing Shouta to halt the entire tirade he had in his head for the Problem Child, despite the Problem Child in question being 32…

“Really? Are you okay?”

“Physically, I’m fine…” Midoriya replied, sitting on his couch wearing a t-shirt and his underwear, with a small Band-Aid on his neck from where Toga pricked him with her knife. He took a sip of the glass of liquor he was nursing before continuing. “Emotionally… I’ve been better.”

“And Toga?”

“She ran. Stole some of my knives and some decor too…”

“What? Why didn’t you-” Shouta paused as he brought the microphone closer to his mouth. “Kill her?”

“She got the drop on me first.”

“What happened?”

“Me and the boys at UA went to the bar to celebrate the first week of classes,” Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose as he realized where it was going. “And I maybe, kind of, sort of… hooked up with, who I thought was one of the employees of the bar…”

“Oh my God…”

“But after we fucked, she revealed herself to actually be Toga. I didn’t even sense anything was off about her. So, either her ability to completely disguise herself has improved or I really did fuck myself up by pregaming.”

“Problem child, listen to me,” Shouta growled. “Did you at least wear protection?”

“Oh, God yes. I didn’t risk it even after she showed me the implant scar on her arm.”

“That’s not- Never mind.” The disheveled man huffed before getting back to the confrontation of the serial killer. “Why didn’t she kill you?”

“In all honesty? I… don’t know…” There was a brief pause as Midoriya tried to formulate the right string of words to articulate what happened. “I think she wanted a reaction from me, to beg her not to or to curse at her, call her a monster… I… didn’t dignify her with one. She then went on a full monologue about… something. And that's when she suddenly got cold feet. She was staring at me as if I was a demon.”

Seriously? Shouta deadpanned at the irony but said nothing, allowing for Midoriya to continue.

“When was the last time you’ve seen villains, especially one as insane as Toga, experience true fear? ”

“None that I can think of…”

“Exactly…” Izuku whispered. “Do you think she knows?”

“That you’re the Manticore? No.” Shouta heard a grunt of recognition at the other end of the line. “That you’re a piece of shit? Maybe.”

“Ooooh. Ha ha.” Midoriya chuckled mockingly.

“So, what now?”

“Now?” Midoriya sighed. “I need to stop cutting corners. I cannot wait for one of them to approach me. I am going to need to dedicate more time to my investigation. Meaning, I am going to need an assistant at UA.”

“Tragically, despite my better judgment, the O5 will support you and uphold your request for an assistant teacher. Anyone you have in mind?”

“I have one. But that’s a discussion I need to have with them… Right now, I am going to invoke the Twilight Zone Recruitment Protocol.”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Shouta let out a long, shuddering sigh. The Twilight Zone Recruitment Protocol is an act meant to recruit up to three people to join the Blackout Heroics Program under the direct supervision of a veteran Blackout Hero, such as the Manticore. “Fine, fine, fine. Gimme the names.”

He couldn’t see it, but he was certain that Midoriya had a massive, manic grin on his face.

“Cernunnos, Ticonderoga, and Apollyon.”

End of Chapter 3

[Ending Song: Savior – By Rise Against]

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 4: Horsemen of the Apocalypse

March 10th, 2233
New Musutafu

“Something’s going to happen.” A gruff voice said in the middle of the skid row of New Musutafu, the haven of those who lost everything during the wars. Shit-smelling streets with homeless people dotting the sidewalks. Dangerous to walk through even during the day. An area so foul that even the underground heroes don’t like to stay a minute longer than necessary. A perfect place for someone like Kagero Okuta, aka Giran the Broker.

“What makes you say that?” A voice at the other end of the phone the old gentleman was talking to inquired.

“Call it professional intuition.” The older gentleman responded as he revolver lighter, using the sparked flame to light the end of his cigarette. “You see the news on what happened in downtown Musutafu a few weeks back?”

“What type of retarded half-assed question is that ?   Do you realize how much happens in Musutafu on a daily basis? Let alone over the course of a COUPLE WEEKS?”

“My apologies,” Giran rolled his eyes. He is still as unpleasant as he was all those years ago… “I was talking about the triple murder that happened on the 26th. The one where a vigilante cut the scrotum open of a man who just killed a whore, cutting out his balls before hanging him and his two buddies?”

“What about it?”

“The PHYSICS Division usurped the investigation from Pluton and Uravity. Reminds you of something, doesn’t it?”

“Anato…”

“Bingo. Coverup Central!” Giran chuckled. “I find it odd. When Cellophane murdered that monster Mayhem two years ago, the HPSC didn’t step in. They just suspended his license for a year. A slap on the wrist for the amount of agony he put the bastard through before suffocating him. Not that I blame Cellophane. If there was one person in this world that deserved to die in such a way, it would be Mayhem.”

“So then, why would they immediately do damage control on what should be a Stain copycat?”

“I wouldn’t say the vigilante is a Stain copycat, more someone who Stendhal inspired.”

“Are you insulting my intelligence, Giran?”

“No, no… I wouldn’t do that to you, Tomoyasu.”

“Don’t act so quaint with me, Giran. This isn’t a social call.”

“You’re correct, and once again I am sorry.” Giran grits his teeth, crushing the butt of his cigarette and causing tobacco to fall into his mouth. “But this isn’t one. My only agreement with you is to keep you updated with what’s going on in the Underworld. And by you, I mean Toga, Compress, and Dabi.”

Giran grabbed his cigarette and spat the bit of tobacco that fell in his mouth, crushing the cigarette under his foot as he continued his walk down the skid row.

“Giggles has lost all motivation, so she has effectively retired from murdering people. Monsoon had a close encounter with Ingenium and the boys and is currently hiding out in the sewer system. A new guy named Toporovshchik asked me to find someone strong enough to fight him. I swear, it’s a new Tiger Bunny every other month.”

“Toporovshchik… That’s Russian.”

“It means Axe Hand in Russia, yes.”

“Let me guess, he has axes for hands.”

“More like his quirk allows him to change his hands into axes, yes.” Giran sighed, looking both ways, before crossing the street. “But other than that, society has been really quiet. Except for UA hiring a new teacher.”

“Why does that matter to me?”

“Just trying to shoot the shit. I heard he is a member of the Wild, Wild Pussycats… Quirkless too. Whatchu think of that?”

“Quirkless? Very interesting. I never knew those apes still existed, let alone work at one of the top hero schools in all of Asia. But they are of no concern to me. As long as they do not interfere in the Third Ascension, they are of no threat.” Tomoyasu mused. “Is that all of the news you have, Giran?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s everything. I’ll keep you posted next month…”

CLICK!

“Hello? Chikazoku-san?”

Giran looked at his phone only to realize the call ended. He hung up on me. Asshole. Oh well, I guess it cannot be helped…

Giran leaned on a cracked brick wall as he pulled another cigarette from the carton in his breast pocket. He sighed as he brought out his revolver lighter, pulling the trigger and igniting the flame. I hate the bastard with a burning passion. The only reason I still work with him is because of his connections with the other three. They’re the only great customers I have left… Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had retired after I was saved by the League from the rest of the MLA. What would I be doing now?

Sitting at home like a bum at home, sipping coffee? No, that ain't the life for me. Settle down and have a family? Who would stand to look at my damn mug? My teeth would drive any woman away on principle… Besides, the brats in the League were my family. Especially Jin… They’re gone now. I guess the only reason I am still doing this is because of the last three brats… Am I hanging on to a mirage of what life was like before the Wars?

Hm…

…

Oh well. It is what it is…

He finally finished his cigarette, smushing the butt under his foot. Turning to continue his nice, night walk. He rounds the corner of the building that was flanking-

BANG!

Giran instantly dropped to the floor as a .50 Action Express blew off a good chunk of his head, brains and blood painting the eroded walls, giving it the splash of color it so desperately needed.

Izuku waited for a few moments, continuing to point the smoking muzzle of the Desert Eagle at the body. After a few moments of waiting for any sort of movement from the newly minted corpse, he let out a hiss, holstering his handgun and massaging his wrists.

“Ow, I keep forgetting how much recoil Deagles have…” Izuku muttered under his breath as he carefully trotted over to Giran’s dead body. “That’s the last time I fire that gun, it might end up killing me if I’m not careful…”

He pushed the corpse so that it lay on its right side, reaching into one of the pockets, he pulled out Giran’s work phone. He took a moment to admire the pink phone case with two bunny ears. Cute.

Izuku turned on the phone, only to realize the lock screen was fingerprint activated. Thankfully he had the owner right next to him. He bent down, grabbed Giran by the wrist, and placed his right thumb on the unlock area. He cautiously glanced around, to see if anyone was around. After a few moments, he moved onto the index finger. After a couple of seconds with no success, Izuku then jammed the middle finger onto the unlock area.

He smiled as the phone finally opened. Immediately he opened the phone app and went into the contact history. Only to frown at the substantially low number of calls made on the phone. However, he noticed that each one had the same phone number.

Perfect.

Step, step, step.

Izuku heard the very faint steps of someone approaching. And rapidly too! Thinking fast, he grabbed the warm bullet casing that was ejected from his Desert Eagle, shoving it into his pocket. He then pulled out a knife and a large plastic zip-lock bag. He quickly severed Giran’s right hand from the rest of his arm and put it in the bag before making a run into an alleyway.

Quietly he launched himself onto the railing of a fire escape, scaling up the metal stairs with dead silent footsteps. He reached the rooftop of the rotting building, carefully looking over the edge below to see who was the one alerted to his presence. He caught a glimpse of a mane of wild, purple hair. Looking a bit further he noticed the person was wearing a signature white capture scarf around his neck and a black padded costume with fishnet sleeves.

Hitoshi Shinso. Requiem.

“We have a homicide. One victim, male. A high caliber gunshot wound to the head, and a missing hand. No perp in sight.” Hitoshi said into a radio on his left breast. He looked around, feeling as if he was being watched. He looked up only being able to catch a glimpse of the faintest silhouette of a possible suspect. “Pursuing possible shooter!”

He wrapped his capture scarf around the arch of a janky light post, launching himself to the top of the building. He climbed over the wall and glanced around. Only to find the entire rooftop completely abandoned. Where the hell?

Hitoshi then began to look over the edges of the building, finding no one. He then decided to jump on a few more rooftops. He then decided to traverse the labyrinth of alleys.

“OI! JACKASS!” An angry voice caused Hitoshi to skid to a halt. Looking behind him, he found a man wearing rags under a very large cardboard box sneering at him. “I’m trying to sleep here, you inconsiderate asshole.”

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

Once Izuku felt as though he had enough space between him and the underground hero, he let out a long breath of relief. “Phew, I thought he saw me… I should have run at the first moment.”

Oh well. No use changing what had already happened. He put the severed hand and the bunny-eared phone into a large canvas bag. Then he pulled out his own phone. He quickly went to contacts and chose the contact with the name ‘Rat Bastard,’ putting the phone up to his ear as soon as he hit the call button.

Ring

Ring

Ring

“Hello?” A cheerful, high-pitched voice radiated from the other end of the phone line.

“Overlord, this is Manticore.”

“Ah, Manticore! What can I do for you.”

“I have a phone that was used to call Skeptic, I will be sending it to you so that you can geolocate Skeptic’s location. Think you can do that?”

“But of course!”

“Excellent… One more thing. Put Cernunnos, Apollyon, and Ticonderoga on standby.” Izuku added, staring up at the clouded moon. “Because once you have a hit on him, it’s go time.”

“Understood. Goodnight Manticore.”

CLICK!

After interrogating and subsequently apologizing to the homeless man, Hitoshi stormed out of the alleyway back onto the street, gritting his teeth in rage.

“Son of a bitch!” He shouted as he kicked a trash can. He definitely is going to get shit for this from Minoru, Denki, and Mirko when they find out that his perfect capture record finally ended after he let one slip from his fingers without even getting a look at the bastard. He inhaled and exhaled to calm himself down. Trying to put himself in a zen-like state “It’s okay, Hitoshi… It can always be worse. The Commission could shut down the investigation… You aren’t Minoru… No one will know…”

March 11th, 2233
UA High School, Unforeseen Simulation Joint

“And then the Commission shut down the goddamn investigation…” Hitoshi hissed as he sat alongside Mirko, Uraraka, and Midoriya as they watched the students traverse the Ruins Zone of the USJ.

“You too, huh?” Uraraka growled as she crushed her can of Double Shot Espresso. “The rat bastards shut down the investigation of the Man Eater murders. Every time I call the Commission to find out the status of the investigations, they just leave me waiting on hold for hours until I inevitably give up. Sometimes I just want to march into the Overseer Council’s office and force answers about the investigation out of them…”

“But they’ll suspend you if you try to investigate anyways…” Mirko pondered as she passively tapped her prosthetic foot.

“Yup.” “Mhm…” Both Hitoshi and Uraraka respond with a miffed look on their faces.

“That’s total horseshit!” Mirko shouted in rage. “Do they know how much we sacrificed in order to get a less tyrannical Hero Commission? And now they’re threatening heroes from doing their job as heroes?”

“I didn’t trust the Overseers the moment they were established. ‘Anonymous, Fair Council.’ What a fucking joke.” Hitoshi growled, bringing his foot up to his thigh so as to have a fulcrum to prop his elbow on. “Anonymity is a backdoor to cop out the moment their shit gets exposed. They did learn from the mistakes of the past administration. Just not the right ones.”

“What do you think, Midoriya?” Uraraka asked as she leaned back on her folding field stool. “You have been awfully quiet.”

Midoriya didn’t say anything for a few moments, only looking up from the notebook he was writing notes in and looking at the three pro heroes through a side-eye. “I don’t know enough about the ins and outs of the investigative side of heroics to comment. The most I do is fly drones and find people needing saving.”

“Investigations is still an integral part of heroics, Midoriya. Even if you are a rescue specialist.”

“That’s the thing Uraraka.” Midoriya had an edge of annoyance in his voice. “I am not a hero.”

Uraraka slapped her forehead.

“My apologies, Midoriya. It’s just that you carry yourself like one all the time, I forget that you aren’t technically licensed.”

“It’s alright. That’s what you get when you are raised by an entire group of heroes.”

“What? You were raised by heroes?” Mirko asked as she sat down, looking at Midoriya in intrigue. “You don’t mean…”

“The Wild, Wild Pussycats don’t just ask anyone to join their group. They all have been best friends since high school. And I was adopted by them when I was 12. Well, more specifically adopted by Ragdoll, as she was my mom’s baby cousin…” He smiled sadly. “I guess I saw that they walked with the weight of their responsibilities on their shoulders, and I unconsciously picked up some mannerisms because of it.”

After a few beats of silence, Hitoshi snapped his finger, pointing at the green-haired teacher. “You were the other boy living in the forest with the Pussycats, along with Izumi-kun. That’s where I remember you!”

Uraraka gasped. “No wonder you looked so familiar! You look so much different now!”

“Hehe, yeah…” He scratched the back of his neck, slightly flushed. “Back then I was still really wary of people. It’s what happens when you grow up quirkless, the first thing you expect is for people to look at you like you were scum for something you cannot control…”

“Aw…” Uraraka frowned. “But at least you had the Pussycats and Bakugou taking care of you, right?”

Midoriya stared at the space-themed rescue heroine. The thought of the living hell he went through for eight years after his quirklessness diagnosis flashed through his head. He remembered the day Katsuki pushed him too far, when he snapped the boy’s arm and smashed his head into concrete in a blind rage. He remembers the hatred he harbored for his best friend, which only ended during the attack on the Summer Camp.

“Yeah…” He lied.

“The more I learn about you, the more fascinated I am of you, Midoriya.” Uraraka, sensing the heaviness of the conversation, decided to lighten it up with a compliment, causing the green-haired man to flush slightly.

“You should hear his stories about his travels. Shit is wild.” Hitoshi added.

“So Midoriya, why don’t you wear the cute little skirts and tail?” Mirko asked with a wide smirk.

“U- Uh, well. One of the clauses for me joining the Pussycats as a Support Contractor is that I get to wear my own uniform. As much as I love them, I am not sacrificing my dignity to pretend to be cats. The cat ears were the last thing I have of my mom, and they were already more than enough. My uncle Yawara challenged me to a fight over this. If I won, he’d give me his blessing to not wear the Wild, Wild Pussycats costume.”

“And I assume you won?”

“Oh hell no.” Midoriya waved off. “I got my ass handed to me six ways from Sunday! But he respected my resolve so much that he gave me the blessing anyway. Besides, everything goes better in black.”

“Amen to that,” Hitoshi said as he fist-bumped his fellow gothic coworker.

“So, back to the conversation at hand, I don’t know much about the investigative side of heroism. Does the Commission taking over investigations happen often?”

“No, not at all…” The purple-haired underground hero shook his head. “In fact, in the past five years, it has only happened three times, and there have been a few cases before that were completely shut down. Two of them barely happened in the span of this month.”

“And the third time?”

“You heard of the Anato Warehouse Incident from five years ago?”

Crap. “The fire that burned down a warehouse in the Anato Industrial District?”

“Yeah. That one. Bakugou responded to it and was put in the hospital with gunshot wounds. That ain’t something you get from a random fire.” Uraraka sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. “Even he wasn’t allowed to investigate further…”

“I see…”

The conversation then lapped into silence as all four instructors watched as each of the students in Class 1B used their quirks and their dexterity to recover electronic mannequins from the ruins of a faux city. Out of the corner of his left eye, he spotted a pink-skinned boy sitting on a particularly large piece of rubble. Turning his head, he found Shinsuke Kirishima sitting dejectedly at his hands.

“What’s wrong with Kirishima-kun?” Midoriya piped up, gaining the attention of the other three UA staff members.

“Kirishima-kun got deducted multiple points for unintentionally injuring and aggravating the wounds of prop victims,” Uraraka explained, before tapping a finger on her chin. “Which is weird because his technique in extraction is perfect! I don’t know why the mannequins indicated more injuries. But it has happened too many times for it to be a technical issue.”

“It’s probably because he cannot handle his own strength. It is something that I need him to work heavily on. During the Battle Trials, he did a lot of property damage from running, and he unintentionally injured one of his classmates during the same Trial. Of course, since it wasn’t at all intentional, I just gave him a warning and told him to learn to better control his strength.” Hitoshi added, looking bored.

Midoriya stayed silent for a few moments.

“’Shinsuke Kirishima. Quirk: Relentless. Class: Volatile. A mutation quirk that allows Shinsuke to take major blunt force strikes without receiving any physical trauma. This allows him to be a sort of battering ram that can blast through walls as all of his muscles are working at 85% rather than the normal 45-50%. As a result, he uses much more strength on a daily basis, requiring him to consume more calories and proteins each day. Bones are fortified to be much more resistant to damage and his brain is surrounded by a viscous fluid to prevent brain trauma.’” Midoriya read off from his notebook detailing the quirks of every one of his hero course students, causing the other instructors to raise an eyebrow at the green-haired man.

Everyone remained silent as Midoriya looked between both the notebook and the pink student in question. He noted how large the boy was, extremely tall and muscular, a given knowing his father was the great Red Riot. However, there was something both off and familiar about the boy and his excessive strength. The cat-eared man stared off into the distance for a moment, before his emerald eyes suddenly lit up in realization. “Oh my God, he has muscle hypertrophy!”

Mirko, Hitoshi, and Uraraka all blinked in confusion as they watched Midoriya stand up, before turning to the bubbly rescue specialist. “Here, can you hold this real quick, Uraraka-san?”

“Uh- Sure.” She responded, grabbing a hold of the notebook, and watching her new co-worker sped off in the direction of the despondent Shinsuke. She turned back and gave her other two coworkers a confused look. “’Muscle hypertrophy?’”

Hitoshi provided nothing other than a shrug.

“Oh, that’s when your muscles grow much faster than normal due to a genetic lack of myostatin,” Mirko explained, causing Hitoshi to stare at her with an unreadable expression and Uraraka to become way more confused than before. “What? Biology was my favorite subject growing up!”

Shinsuke sighed loudly as he stared across the Ruins Zone, watching as his classmates successfully recovered mannequins from piles of debris.

“Ahoy up there!” A voice called from below, causing the pink-skinned boy to snap his head down. Looking up at him was Midoriya-sensei, his aviators now sitting on top of the brim of his black baseball cap, revealing his large, shiny green eyes and freckles. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Shinsuke blinked. “O- Oh. Okay.”

He slid off the large rock, landing right next to Midoriya-sensei, cringing at the sound of the floor cracking underneath him. The Quirk Theory teacher, however, didn’t flinch. Or acknowledge it for that matter. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Shinsuke muttered as he rubbed the back of his head. “It could be going better…”

“What’s wrong?”

Shinsuke let out a sharp inhale and exhale. “I am too strong. I can’t pick up any of the mannequins without injuring or killing them. All I can do is remove debris, but in cases where that is not needed, I am a liability. And I hurt a lot of people by accident! Last week I really hurt Sora-san during the battle trials! I always hug my mom, dad, or hell, even Bakugou-chan, I always hold on too tight and they always complain about how they need a chiropractor at such a young age. I always play it off like it doesn’t bother me. But it does. It hurts. Emotionally, not physically. I just… don’t think I can protect people as well as I want to.”

“And that’s not even your fault.” Midoriya-sensei gently placed his hand on his student’s broad shoulder. “I believe you were always trained to be as strong as possible by your father, correct?”

Shinsuke nodded.

“But what neither of you didn’t expect was for you to have muscle hypertrophy!” Shinsuke blinked at Midoriya with a blank, lost look on his face, causing the green-haired man to clarify. “Let me explain. Muscle hypertrophy is a condition that causes an unregulated increase in muscle mass. This increase in strength, coupled with you having a constant strength-based quirk causes you to be much stronger than even the average Olympian without needing to do intense aerobic exercises! But because of this, you constantly have to walk on eggshells so as to not break everything!”

Shinsuke blinked owlishly at Midoriya. “And… h- how do you know this?”

Midoriya-sensei smiled distantly. “I used to know a guy who had an overwhelming strength quirk and muscle hypertrophy. He was so big; he was built like a gorilla. And he was so strong he accidentally killed his father when he punched him out of self-defense.”

The demonic boy blanched, which caused Midoriya to quickly backpedal. “What I am trying to say is not to beat yourself up over something you cannot truly control affecting your heroic work! Tell me, does Red Riot specialize in rescue heroics?”

“… no?” Shinsuke hesitantly responded after a few moments of pondering.

“What about Ground Zero?”

“Definitely not.” He answered, this time without hesitation.

“See, there are a lot of powerful heroes out there that aren’t suited for most rescue missions. Just because you’re lacking in on field doesn’t mean you’re a poor hero. You are barely starting out for Christ’s sake! Relentless is a perfect combination of both Offensive and Defensive capabilities, despite it lacking careful precision!” Midoriya hummed as he looked around. His eyes were calculating as they landed on a large, barely standing brick wall. “Even in rescue heroics, there is more you can do to protect people if you put your mind to it. Follow me.”

Usagiyama, Hitoshi, and Uraraka continue to watch as Shinsuke and Midoriya walk up the ruined brick wall.

“The hell is he doing?” The white-haired rabbit heroine muttered.

The two men walked up to the imposing, if crumbling brick wall.

“Please stand right here. Don’t move alright.” Midoriya said before walking away.

Shinsuke turned to find his cat ear sensei lifting up a large stone with ease, walking back to him with a mischievous look on his face. “Midoriya-sensei?”

“Yes, Kirishima-kun?”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just demonstrating to you how great your quirk is.” With a grunt, Midoriya smashed the rock into the wall, causing it to teeter before it began to fall forward. “You’regoingtoprotectmefromthisbrickwall-”

“WAIT WHAT?”

A massive commotion ensued as the massive wall began to fall forward, and Midoriya-sensei ran behind him and curled up into a ball behind his legs. Shinsuke’s first instinct was to move away, but with his Quirk Theory teacher in such a compromising position, he had no choice but to take the brick wall head-on, so as to not let it crush him. He stared up at the falling wall with a hardened expression-

BOOM!

“WHAT THE HELL?” Uraraka gasped as she began to sprint to the crash site along with the bouncing Mirko, full-sending it toward the two like a bat out of hell, as Shinso remained petrified with wide eyes.

However, both women came to a halt as the smoke cleared. Revealing a completely unharmed Kirishima, shaking some dust from his hair. Behind him, a laughing and coughing Midoriya emerged, also unharmed, but with a large smile on his face.

“You are an unstoppable battering ram. But you are also an impenetrable shield. Do not let what you cannot control dictate what you can or cannot do, you’ll be a great hero one day, Kirishima-kun. You’ll make your old man proud!”

Shinsuke stared at his teacher for a long moment as his final words echoed in his head. Suddenly, the boy burst into (only the manliest of) tears. “Thank you, Midoriya-sensei!”

Shinsuke instinctually went in for a big hug, only for Midoriya to slip out of the grip at the last possible moment. “Woah, woah. No problem, just… no hugs. I like my spine the way it is.”

“Hah, sorry,” Shinsuke said with a wide smile, a look much better suited for the son of both Pinky and Red Riot.

“Jesus, Midoriya.” Mirko sighed in relief. “You are one crazy son of a bitch.”

“It takes insanity to know insanity, Mirko-san!” Midoriya smiled widely as if he didn’t almost face death on his own accord. “For heroes, they need to be crazier than the villains to bring them to justice. For me? I need to be crazy to bring out the best in those who I help!”

The three instructors and Shinsuke all marvel at Midoriya’s resolve, the very fire burning in his eyes shining brighter than the entire conflagration zone. Although he doesn’t wear large cat paws or those brightly colored skirts, he truly proved to three heroes that he was a Wild, Wild Pussycat, lending a paw to anyone in need.

Shinsuke was crying harder now, incoherently blubbering the word “manly” over and over again.

Mirko smiled and nodded.

Shinso sighed, putting his hand on his forehead. Muttering something along the lines of “Oh yeah, this guy will fit right in.” But internally he was smiling too. You would make for one hell of a hero.

And Uraraka… For some reason, her entire face felt warmer than usual… Probably just the weather… Right?

March 12th, 2233
30 Minutes outside Sendai, Japan

Three hundred feet from the perimeter of a seemingly abandoned lot, a black box truck made its final stroll before the engine and lights were completely shut off.

“We’re here.” The woman sitting in the driver’s seat whispered as she tilted her head to look out of the truck’s window.

“Finally.” The disgruntled voice of a man growled from the back of the seats, shifting to shimmy his way out. “I don’t know why you guys jam the biggest one in the very back. Do you know how uncomfortable it is for my nuts? ”

“Relax,” Another man’s voice replied with a shit-eating smirk. “If you were so uncomfortable, you could have gone in the back.”

“Hell no! Not in this terrain and not with her driving.”

The woman rolled her eyes before she stepped out of the car, tucking her shoulder-length hair into her black hood. She tapped the communication device wrapped around her ear. “Manticore, do you copy?”

“Solid copy, Apollyon, send traffic.”

“We’re outside the target area.” She responded as she looked through a pair of binoculars. Seeing nothing else but the decrypted structure, she switched to inferred. The moment she did this, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What the hell?”

“Talk to me.”

“Thermals are picking up major heat generated from the bottom floor, but there is no one there. The top floor however has one person, I think we got our jackpot.”

“Copy all Apollyon. Group, be advised: Tomoyasu Chikazoku’s quirk allows him to make freely remote-controlled puppets out of human-sized objects. The heat you are seeing is probably from a factory run by these puppets. I intend to know what they are doing, and I intend for you to burn that shit to the ground.”

“Copy all, Manticore. What’s the ROE?”

“None. I just want that bastard alive, everything and everyone else can go to Hell. Yup?”

“Yup, yup.” All three called off in unison as they began gearing up.

“Lock ‘em and load ‘em, ladies. It’s show time.”

And with that, the three blackout heroes all finished suiting up. Cernunnos wore a wooden mask in the shape of a stag’s head with antlers protruding on the top of his head, carefully sheathing a large machete by his waist. Ticonderoga adjusted his cloth balaclava with a spray-painted skull design on it, blinking his black eyes to get used to the feeling of the mask before grabbing a tactical tomahawk hatchet. Finally, Apollyon wore a ballistic mask with an Oni design. Two horns protruded the forehead while the bottom half of the face had a mouth that was lined with rows of golden, razor-sharp teeth. But nothing could be sharper than the katana she brandished, holstering it carefully by her hip before turning to her squad mates.

“Y’all ready?”

“Ready,” Ticonderoga responded while Cernunnos gave her a thumbs up.

“Right, Cernunnos, you’re with me. You and I are going to see what’s cooking on the ground floor. Ticonderoga, I want you to go around to the back and see if you can enter through the top floor, you’re going to flush out Skeptic and any puppets he sends.”

“Copy that.” With a two-finger salute, the skull mask-wearing man ran to the back of the compound.

“You ready?” Apollyon asked the wooden mask-wearing man.

“I hope he is ready to convert because God can’t help him anymore.”

Apollyon chuckled slightly. “Yup.”

Skeptic was having a good day, something he once thought nearly impossible to have since the collapse of the Liberation Army and the capture of Re-Destro during the last two major Wars. He remembers the years following their defeat at the hands of the heroes all those years ago. On the run, he separated from the surviving members of the League to Sendai, living completely off the grid except for burner phones. He watched everything that was happening in the outside world, both the underground and the surface, from afar through information from Giran.

And from there he was able to find a series of scientists and those still loyal to the words of Destro and the Liberation War. With their help, they were able to make the Logia drug, but after years he slowly… phased the human workers out and replaced the entire manufacturing process using autonomous puppets made by his Meta-Ability. Much more efficient, less reliance on others.

Skeptic smiled at the thought of giving Dabi the Logia Drug. Finally, the Third Ascension of the Meta Liberation Army is possible after so many years dormant. He chuckled to himself, taking a sip of his Gold Tips Imperial brand black tea. It’s an acquired taste, but something he enjoys.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

At least he was enjoying it until he got a fucking INTRUDER ALERT.

Spitting out the tea on the ground, he rolled over to his various monitors, watching in shock as one of his Anthromorph Puppets was tackled through a stone pillar like it was made of sand. The figure stood up to reveal its deer face mask, looking up at the camera for a moment before running into the laboratory warehouse, followed by a smaller, slimmer figure with what seemed to be horns at the top of the mask they were wearing.

Skeptic cursed loudly, grabbing the comms microphone before screaming. “INTRUDER ALERT!”

Big Shot – Toby Fox (Cover by RichaadEB)

“WE HAVE INTRUDERS HEADING INTO THE LABORATORY! EVERYONE WORKING, FIND THEM. AND KILL  THEM! ”

“Looks like we got their attention,” Cernunnos noted as he and Apollyon sprinted toward the lab.

“Heat signature is strongest behind that door.” Apollyon tightened the muscles of her right leg. Suddenly she shot her leg as hard as she could forward, her left foot skidding along the ground with such little friction and with such speed that it produced an after-image. “OROBOROS SMASH!”

The metal door slammed open on impact, sending a few unfortunate puppets flying from the shockwave. Apollyon and Cernunnos rush into the lab, with the former immediately picking up a fight with a puppet. She weaved a punch, before smashing her fist into its solar plexus. The puppet didn’t make a sound and its face didn’t twitch, but she felt the puppet’s stomach immediately tighten up.

So, these bastards do feel pain. That makes this a whole lot easier. She smirked under the Oni Mask, striking the puppet two more times with hard jabs in the chest and abdomen. She then grabbed the staggered puppet by the head before smashing it into the concrete wall beside her. She smiled as the puppet crumpled limply. Only for her to parry a punch aimed at her face. She struck the bottom of her palm into the trachea of the puppet and swept its legs, causing it to flail as it slammed onto the ground.

Apollyon suddenly felt something slam into her stomach pushing her backwards. As she was being pushed, she tried very hard not to fall over but quickly regained her footing. She elbowed the offending puppet twice in the small of its spine and kneed it in the gut causing it to stall. She then grabbed the puppet by the shoulder and legs, heaving it upwards, crashing face-first into a wall.

Elsewhere in the laboratory, Cernunnos blocked the punches of a gorilla-looking puppet. He punched the puppet in the face, kicked the knee from under it, and roundhouse kicked it so hard its face slammed into a concrete pillar, shattering both it and its face. He turned, tilting his head backward to just barely dodge a kick to his facemask. After parrying another kick and a wild haymaker, he bashed his fist into the puppet's ribs, stunning it long enough for him to jab his right thumb in the puppet’s neck. Wrapping his hand around its throat he lifted the entire puppet upwards and proceeded to chokeslam it into a metal table littered with materials, causing it to crumple under the sudden force.

Cernunnos heard a series of footsteps rapidly approaching from behind, so he quickly raised his left leg to absorb a potential kick in the stomach. Using the momentum from the parry, he spun backward, backhanding the puppet so hard he knocked it to the ground. As it tried to stand up, the deer mask-wearer raised his right leg and delivered a massive axe kick to the back of its head, shattering it into pieces.

“Hm. This looks important…” Ticonderoga tapped his chin, staring at the setup in front of him. It was a massive industrial battery connected to a series of solar panels. He stooped down and grabbed a fistful of wires, and with a slight tug, they all detached from the battery. “Whoops.”

If Skeptic wasn’t pissed before, he was frothing at the mouth now that all of his cameras cut out. He began hyperventilating as he quickly opened his PC and began trying to run diagnostics on what was wrong with his electronics.

“Cyber-attack? No, no IMPOSSIBLE! I built this system! I made it so no one anything short of myself can be capable of hacking through it. The system has been reinforced by a firewall that updates hourly! How on earth can someone DDoS the cameras?”

“Man, you really think of us as that elaborate?” A modulated voice from behind him caused him to seize up. He turned around to find a man wearing a skull face balaclava lounging on the window frame that Skeptic was certain wasn’t open before. “I just disconnected the power source manually. You might be a scalpel, but I am a sledgehammer…”

Skeptic’s eyes were bloodshot now. He snarled at the thought of him not thinking of something so insufferably simple. He flared his nostrils before turning around and smacking a filing cabinet, plastering it with a thick sludge. Ticonderoga’s eyes betrayed nothing as he watched the object contort and mold itself into something relatively humanoid, a being that possessed sunken, beady eyes and a large physique.

The last remaining member of the MLA then ran his hand angrily across the laptop’s keyboard. “KILL HIM, I WANT THIS MOTHERFUCKER TURNED INTO RED PASTE!”

The puppet then made a mad dash toward the masked man. Even as the massive fist bared down on him, Ticonderoga didn’t even flinch.

“Drop Ripple Thrust,” Ticonderoga said flatly right as he jammed his hand into the large puppet’s abdomen. It was then a sudden, powerful blast of water disintegrated the entire torso of the humanoid, crumbling into the ground into a wet pile of rubble.

Ticonderoga looked around only to find Skeptic missing. Listening carefully, he heard the telltale sounds of footsteps quickly retreating down a flight of stairs.

“Apollyon, I have Skeptic on the run! He’s heading to you now!”

“Good shit, Ticonderoga. Pursue him, I don’t want him to have an inkling of hope of escape!”

“Got it!” He sprinted out of the control room into the hallway, prepared to run after Skeptic, however he came to a screeching halt at the sight of almost thirty puppets blocking his path to the stairwell. “Oh, COME ON!”

Ticonderoga grabbed the hatchet from his waist, 

“Now I’m only going to say this once, you sons of bitches.” He brandished the axe, fully intending to use it with deadly efficiency. “Get the Hell out of my way!”

Without another request, the skull mask-wearing man sprinted full force into the seemingly impenetrable crowd of Skeptic’s puppets.

Back in the Lab, Apollyon and Cernunnos are bringing the heat onto the puppets in the lab. The Oni mask-wearing woman was busy trying to deflect multiple kicks and punches, grunting the moment she returned a punch to the puppet’s chest. It stepped back the moment she tried to lunge a second punch, swinging down a dropping elbow, trying to strike her on the top of her head which she avoided with a backstep. She ducked as a second, reverse elbow passed over her, the puppet took this opportunity to hit her in the cheek with a spinning elbow.

She grunted at the sudden blow, not really hurt since her ballistic mask took most of the impact, however, she was dazed long enough for the puppet to kick her in her side. She growled as it grabbed her by the shoulders and kneed her in the gut, however, the impact wasn’t strong enough to knock the wind out of her, so she quickly broke out of the grapple, ducking one more time to dodge a spinning high kick.

This time, however, she kicked the puppet in the knee and watched it snap, then bend at an incredibly unnatural angle, and cause the puppet to fall onto its knees. She stood up, reeling back her foot, and sent her shin directly into the puppet’s face, knocking it onto its back.

Out of the corner of her eye, Apollyon spotted another puppet running toward her at full speed. Putting her arms up to the side of her head, she blocked a high kick aimed at her tempol to which she then grabbed the puppet by the leg.

“HURRAH!” Using the momentum of the puppet and a lot of strength, she was able to spin it around, straight into a pillar, which cracked both it and its head.

Cernunnos slammed his fist into a puppet’s jaw, stunning it long enough that he was able to spin both himself and his opponent around, holding it by the neck. He then heaved the entire puppet over his head-

WHAM!

- causing it to collide with a steel table. And to add insult to injury, Cernunnos stomped on the puppet’s shoulder as it lay on the edge of the table, sending it head-first onto the floor. The deer-masked man dodged and blocked another attempt at an attack, but quickly gave the offender a one-two combo right on both cheeks before capping it off with a massive kick to the stomach, sending the puppet down.

CLING, CREEK, SMASH

Cernunnos’s eyes widened when he turned around only to find a puppet sprinting across a row of tables, launching itself right at him with no extra plan. The large man simply caught it midair and chucked it into a filing cabinet. He doesn’t know whether the puppet can feel any emotion, but he sure hopes it feels some embarrassment…

Or not as it immediately tries to stand back up.

“STAY DOWN!” The man shouted as he unsheathed his machete and immediately decapitated the puppet with a single upward swing of the blade. “These bastards are annoying!”

“Yeah,” Apollyon replied as she kicked a puppet in the stomach.

Turning around she sidestepped a punch sent her way, kicking the back of the puppet’s leg from behind, she then drew her blade, immediately bisecting the puppet with a single swing. She spun around and swept her blade in a fluid motion, slicing off the limbs and heads of any puppets unfortunate enough to be in her range. “Piss me off.”

“ACK!” Both Cernunnos and Apollyon turn to an unfamiliar voice.

They watched as a man with long straight hair stumbled down the stairs in a hurt, tripping and rolling onto the ground. He quickly stood up, glancing around, and shaking like a madman, gasping as he saw the two intruders from earlier. He scrambled to his feet running away from their direction.

“That’s Skeptic!” Apollyon noted as she sliced the leg off of a puppet.

“Yeah, but where’s Ti-”

SLAM! Cernunnos’s question was immediately cut off as two figures were launched from the stairwell. Snarling loudly, Ticonderoga quickly wrestled the handle of his hatchet from the arms of a puppet, swinging it down onto its head, and splitting it into two. The skull masked-wearing man then stood up, swinging his hatchet around wildly, knocking the head off a puppet attempting an ambush.

“Are you guys good?”

“We’re fine, don’t let that bastard get away!”

“Watch my six! I’ll take care of this Murdoc Niccals-looking motherfucker!”

Skeptic slammed his shoulder into a seemingly random filing cabinet, yanking one of the drawers open and reaching inside. As Ticonderoga quickly approached, the ex-lieutenant of the PLF turned around, both eyes wide open in pure fury, pointing a .44 magnum at the skulled face-wearing man.

“I WILL NOT LET YOU GET IN THE WAY OF THE LIBERATION!” He roared as he pulled the-

BANG!

Ticonderoga dropped…

… into a split position, right arm completely reeled back, eyes hardened with righteous determination. Skeptic was now helpless. He could not react fast enough, nor scream out for mercy as he realized exactly where the fist was heading toward-

WHAM!

His balls…

Instantly, his entire abdominal core seized up, his legs turned to gelatin slowly sinking to the floor, gasping as he gripped at his crotch in agony. It’s as if he’s trying to scream, but the noise refuses to leave his mouth.

At that same moment, all of the puppets fighting both Apollyon and Cernunnos stalled moments before crumbling to the floor in a pile of dust. Cernunnos turned around, with a hardened glare, refusing to sympathize with a fellow man getting his manhood annihilated with a single punch.

“We’re not done with him JUST YET!” The deer mask-wearing man roared as he began his mad dash over to Skeptic and Ticonderoga, ready to bring the smackdown to the former.

“I agree!” Ticonderoga shouted in support.

He hauled up Skeptic by the back of his shirt and proceeded to punch him in the face, sending him staggering right into the large fist of Cernunnos who slammed it as hard as he could in the back of the MLA commander’s head.

WHAM! Ticonderoga slammed the back end of his hatchet on Skeptic’s cheek.

WAPOW! Into a jaw-breaking elbow.

CRACK! Skeptic’s ribs were shattered by a vicious knee.

POOF, POOF, FWUMP! Cernunnos kicked Skeptic in the same area of his abdomen three times!

For the next fifteen seconds, Ticonderoga and Cernunnos punched Skeptic in between themselves like he was a human ping pong, both smiling ferally under their masks as they listened to him produce high-pitched choking sounds as he had not been given any opportunity to breathe.

“I CALL LAST HIT!” Apollyon shouted as she sprinted up to the three men, right leg already reeled back for the mother of all kicks.

“OROBOROS-” She kicked her leg out, sliding across the floor on her left leg at blinding speed. “RUSH!”

Cernunnos and Ticonderoga quickly got the hell out of the way, leaving Skeptic still standing. Only for him to be met by the bottom of Apollyon’s right boot, sending him backward, finally crashing into the filing cabinet that he retrieved the gun from, unconscious, and finally defeated.

All was quiet while the three masked assailants stood over the broken and beaten body of Tomoyasu Chikazoku, all three breathing heavily from the adrenaline coursing through their veins.

“Geronimo.” Cernunnos finally said, causing the other two to sigh in relief.

“Nice work boys. Get this piece of shit tied up and stuff his ass into the truck, Cernunnos. Ticonderoga, you and I are going to collect samples of whatever the hell they were cooking here. And then, we’re burning this place to the ground…” Apollyon ordered, to which the deer mask wearer nodded, going up to Chikazoku, his hands glowing a faint green.

The Oni Mask wearer then rubbed her gloved hand on the top of Ticonderoga’s head, letting him know to get to work.

The entire compound was now an empty husk of a structure, burning like an uncontrollable furnace. Both Apollyon and Ticonderoga staggered back to their unmarked box truck, tired and covered in soot. Climbing into the passenger seat, the skull mask wearer let out a long groan.

“Why the hell… couldn’t I wear the Oni mask?”

“Are you… are you really complaining about that?” The woman puffed and panted from sheer exhaustion.

“Yeah, I mean-” The man tore off the mask from his face, revealing his mane of short, spiky black hair. “I wear horns on my hero suit, why the hell can’t I wear some on my blackout suit?”

Kota Izumi
Quirk: Hydrokinesis
Hero Name: Water Hazard Hero: Undertow
Blackout Hero Alias: Ticonderoga

“Well, you seem to be forgetting…” Apollyon sighed as she unclasped the ballistic mask, letting his shoulder-length pale blue hair. “I need to cover my horn, dumbass!”

Eri Aizawa (Soon to be Izumi!)
Quirk: Rewind
Hero Name: E-Revert
Blackout Hero Alias: Apollyon

“Okay, okay. All I am saying is that it goes better with my motif. I look like a water Oni at day and look like a real Oni at night.”

“Yeah, but it gives too much of your character. Might as well throw off suspicion wearing something different from what you usually wear as a daytime hero.” Eri mused as she put a cigarette in her mouth, lighting it when an official Lemillion-sponsored Zippo lighter. “If you wear a mask with two horns and still talk shit like you usually do, it won’t take long before someone who has an IQ above room temperature puts two and two together and say ‘Oi, doesn’t this demon mask-wearing scumbag seem a lot like Undertow?’”

Kota gave his fiancé a flat look, opening his mouth to retort only to be interrupted by loud banging behind him.

“Open the goddamn hatch!” A muffled voice shouted.

Kota then reached behind his seat and slid open a sliding hatch in the back of the driver’s pit, revealing a pair of shining brown eyes obscure in the darkness.

“What’s the sitrep, Katsuma?” Eri asked after taking a long drag of her cigarette.

“Well, other than the fact that we completely restructured this bastard’s entire body like a jigsaw puzzle, I was able to heal him just enough so that he won’t die before we deliver him to Manticore.”

Katsuma Shimano
Quirk: Cell Activation
Hero Name: Medicine Hero: Asclepius
Blackout Hero Alias: Cernunnos

“Good job, Katsu.” Eri complimented as she reached across the pit to the passenger’s side, opening the glove compartment and carefully retrieving a blackout phone. “All we just need to do now is to let Manticore know we got Skeptic.”

She turned the untraceable phone on before pressing it a few times. She put the phone on speaker and held it out for her two teammates to share. After the third ring, the Manticore finally responded.

“Apollyon, I just finished grading assignments. Make my day.”

“We got him, burned down his entire compound too.”

“Hook, line, and fucking, THAT’S WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT YOU THREE!” Their overseer cheered enthusiastically. “That’s what I love to see. We are definitely celebrating back home all on me!”

“We also have photos of whatever the hell they were cooking in the laboratory. It looks like a possible variant of Trigger, but we are not completely sure what exactly we were looking at. We’ll be sending you the images shortly.”

“That’s alright. I’ll be forwarding it to my handler. He might know what they were cooking. But I believe our friend here can tell us about it himself." Manticore replied. “Good work you three. I’ll see you at the black site…”

“Fur da… li- era- ion…” A strained voice choked out from the very back of the box truck.

“What was that?”

“It looks like our friend here is still conscious…” Katsuma mused as he looked at Skeptic’s carcass with no ounce of pity in his eyes or his heart.

“We can’t have that.” Kota chuckled darkly as he handed his best friend a cattle prod.

KZZZZZ!

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” Tomoyasu Chikazoku screamed out in agony before the darkness mercifully took him. 

SLPASH!

Skeptic gasped loudly as cold water tore him out of his state of unconsciousness. The moment he opened his eyes he began to take in his surroundings. Wherever he was, it was dark, dank, and smelled like copper. He scrunched up his nose as he tried to move, only to realize he was completely bound to a reinforced metal chair bolted to the ground. Worse yet, his arms were covered in large, heavy quirk canceling cuffs which were tied to the ground by a very short chain. His breath hitches at his disconnection from his meta-ability.

“Good morning, Sunshine. The Earth says hello~” A mocking voice said from behind him. Walking into his field of view, a man with sharp, black eyes and equally as sharp, spiky, black hair tilted himself down to get eye level with the former MLA. He had a wide smile on his face that infuriated Skeptic. “I am going to be completely honest with you my friend… I do not envy the position you are in. You, for all intents and purposes, are fucked.”

Skeptic snarled loudly as he tried to lunge at his captor, only for the rope and chain to hold him back. The man in front of him did not flinch, instead, he leaned back and let out a hearty laugh.

“Kota, stop bullying the hostage.” A woman sighed in a slightly admonishing tone, like an exasperated owner scolding her cat.

Skeptic craned his head in search of where the voice was coming from, only to find a woman with shoulder-length silver hair, red eyes, and a horn slicing an apple with a very large hunting knife. That’s not how you cut an apple…

“Oh, come on. This guy used to be the owner of Feel Good Inc. and was a major player in both the Meta Liberation Army and Paranormal Liberation Front! He thought he was untouchable until a couple of hours ago, so forgive me for trying to take this self-righteous bastard down a peg.” The man, Kota, explained never losing that insufferable smirk on his face. “Seriously, the amount of shit I have already talked to this guy is a resounding zero, and you of all people know that I LIVE to bring narcissistic jackasses to the realization that they aren’t all that!”

The horned woman scoffed and rolled her eyes but did not say anything else, allowing Kota to continue.

“Seriously you guys in the MLA worship the words of a depressed lunatic who couldn’t even stand to look at his failures without blowing his brains out in his cell.” Skeptic’s chest burned in fury at the bullshit being spouted by the man in front of him. How dare HE INSULT OUR GLORIOUS LEADER! “Like, give me a break. He was a despot and terrorist who wanted to rule the world with an iron fist! He whispered sweet nothings in the ears of his subordinates, telling them all of the things they wanted to hear, but the minute his spot was burned, he killed himself! The difference between suicide and martyrdom is press coverage, but seriously, you know how many past world leaders were sent to prison for trying to stand up to the system they hated? Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandella, Joseph Stalin, hell, Adolf Fucking Hitler?”

“How…” Skeptic finally mustered up the strength to say something. “HOW DARE YOU INSULT DESTRO-”

SMACK!

Kota slapped Skeptic, but the pain of such a light smack seared through his entire body as if someone injected fire into his veins. It was like the beating he received at the compound, but so, so much worse. W- Why?

“Shut up, daddy’s talking…” Kota said in a low voice, causing the apple-eating woman to giggle slightly. “My mentor once said, ‘Everybody claims all they want is freedom, but what they really want is order.’ Tell me Tomoyasu, what’s your order? Sure, you can give people the freedom to use their quirks however they want without a bureaucracy breathing down their necks. But then what is stopping them from opposing your order with the exact same quirk you gave them the freedom to use? What are you going to do then? You gonna kill ‘em? Oh, but that just makes you guys look like hypocrites. The simple answer to that riddle: not a damn thing, because that goes against the words of Destro, right. Eventually, someone with a quirk so powerful and dangerous will gut your Darwinist regime and your ideals and make the world their playground. Eventually, no one will care for your order. Everything that you have done, every sacrifice made in the name of Liberation, everything Destro has done will be for nothing…”

He stared up at Kota, eyes bloodshot and entire body seething in pain and animosity. The more he smiled, the more Skeptic wanted to drag his face through the concrete. The intense stare-down was interrupted by someone opening a large metal door. It was a large man with faded freckles and light brown hair.

“He’s here…” The man simply said.

The temperature of the room dropped.

“Speaking of my mentor…”

Kota was no longer smiling as he backed away from Skeptic, opting to stand right next to the woman by the wall. From the darkness at the end of the corridor, a man wearing all black slowly approached. His head was covered in a mask that was frayed in the back, the visor over the eyes cut in a way that made it seem like you were staring into the maw of a large feline… Despite the boots he wore his footsteps were silent, but with each step he took closer, he could hear the hatred coming from the soles of his feet.

It was like listening to the screams of the damned.

And they were loud.

Finally, the man stilled. Not moving more than a millimeter as he stared at Skeptic, remaining silent…

“Eri.”

“Yes, Manticore-sensei?” The woman, Eri, said as she sauntered up to him, back stiff as a bard as she stood at attention next to him.

The Manticore turned his head to look at her.

“Why so tense? I was just going to ask for my sword.” The Manticore sounded… confused, as if ignorant to the suffocating, overbearing presence he was exuding.

“Oh, oh… Right…” Eri’s voice had a slight tremble to it, but she coolly handed a scabbard with a katana sheathed inside of it to the Manticore with both hands.

“Thank you…” The Manticore turned his attention to the bound Skeptic in front of him. “Tomoyasu Chikazoku. We meet at last. The final member of the Meta Liberation Army’s Executive Leadership, informant for what remains of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Tell me, what were you cooking in that compound?”

Skeptic said nothing, only opting to spit at The Manticore, mucus-laced spit landing on his pant legs. Suddenly Kota, Eri, and the third man moved to lunge at the MLA leader, only to freeze. Manticore had a single hand up, and although he remained silent, the sheer authority of the hand caused his three students to back up. He reeled his arm back-

WHAM!

“GYAH!” Skeptic screamed as his entire face felt like someone poured magma on it, pain shooting throughout his entire body with the epicenter. “What the fuck…”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” The large man said as he circled Skeptic like a hungry shark in the water. “I used my quirk, Cell Activation, to supercharge your pain receptors, so that the slightest touch feels like someone hit you with a hammer.”

He flicked Skeptic on the forehead, causing the man to let out a strained wheeze of pain.

“Now, I will ask again. What were you making?”

“FUCK… YOU!” Skeptic growled as blood from his broken nose now coated the bottom half of his face in red.

“I thought you’d say some shit like that… Eri, Kota.”

Skeptic then found a hand being placed on his face. Looking in between the cracks of the finger, he saw a single black iris staring back at him. “Drop Ripple Thrust.”

Suddenly he felt as though a powerful water hose began spraying him pointblank. He couldn’t scream as water filled his lungs and his head contorted, liquifying into a red paste.

And then…

Darkness… No noise, no sight. Absolutely nothing.

Tomoyasu gasped awake, letting out a shuddering sob as Eri, whose horn was growing a bright white, lifted her hand from his shoulder. “As long as I have enough energy, we can do this again and again. So, what would it be pal? Are you going to answer his question? ”

“… Logia…”

“Hm?” Manticore hummed as he leaned down to listen.

“The drug I was producing… is called Logia.”

“What are its effects?”

Tomoyasu wanted to tell him to fuck off again but looking between the black-haired man and silver-haired woman standing on either side of him, he only grits his teeth.

“It amplifies the quirk output of only Primordial Elemental Meta-Abilities. The entire meta gene multiplies, tenfold, allowing for any it to…” Tomoyasu trailed off, only to smile widely. “They become the element of their Meta Ability. Any foreign items or other Meta Abilities will pass through them… And there is nothing anyone can do to stop them. Imagine if Dabi were to take one…”

The entire atmosphere thickened as the other people present digested the information given to them and began to estimate what sorts of destruction a living flame could do.

“Yeah, well good luck with that…” Eri chimed in with a smug tone. “We destroyed everything. Including your power supply.”

“Heh, hehehehe…” Eri’s smile began to slowly droop as Skeptic began laughing, louder and louder until it became crazed. “AHAHAHAH! FOOL! I ALREADY SENT OUT THE FIRST SHIPMENT LAST WEEK! Now, it is circulating throughout the Black Market. And those who believe in the Meta Liberation War can rise up. It’s too late to stop it now… Manticore… This is our Third Ascension…”

“…” Manticore said nothing for a whole minute. Hell, no one outside of the still-laughing Skeptic. “Kota…”

Kota looked at his mentor.

“Get the camera.”

Kota stared in shock for a moment. Before gaining a bright smile on his face.

“Yeah… YEAH! LET’S GO BABY!” He screamed out excitedly before sprinting away, both arms raised in the air like a child in a toy store. “WOOHOO!”

The brown-haired man only face palmed, while both the Manticore and Eri chuckled a bit at Kota’s excitement. Skeptic raised an eyebrow as the black-haired man came back with a video camera and tripod, setting it up in front of him while Eri and the other man walked away.

Beep!

Kota gave Manticore a thumbs up before walking away from it, smiling widely as he watched what was about to happen.

“What is your name?”

Skeptic glanced to the side, only to find the Manticore holding up the katana with both hands. He gulped.

“Tomoyasu Chikazoku.”

“Codename.”

“… Skeptic.”

“Affiliation?”

“Meta Liberation Army.”

“Last words?”

He stared at the Manticore for a few moments. Finally, his eyes slowly descended onto the camera lens. “For our Liberation-”

SCHLING!

And for the final time, darkness was all Skeptic could see.

End of Chapter 4

[Ending Song: Savior – By Rise Against]

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 5: Event Horizon

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

We approach the point of no return.

March 12th, 2233
Mirion Tower, Tokyo

Ring, ring, ring.

A man lay face down on the floor of his lavish bedroom. The tan carpet around him was stained, trash piled carelessly in the corners and under the large bed, the air surrounding him was thick and musty, and bottles of varying sizes and contents were strewn across the room. Most are empty, and some are full, spilling their contents whether that be pills or alcohol. 

Ring, ring, ring.

The prone man let out a shuddering breath of agony as he opened his eyes to take in the world around him. Bright, too bright.

He groaned as the dark room he was in appeared as though it was being blasted by hundreds of ultraviolet rays, the minimal amount of light that barely peaked through the blinds made it seem like the sun itself was trying to make him miserable. And dear lord it was doing a great job at that.

Ring, ring, ring.

The noise from his phone ripped straight through his eardrums, causing his brain to throb in torture, each pulsation sending hellish cascades of fire throughout his entire upper body, which he then felt spread throughout each of his fingers and toes. He craned his head up, eyes twitching alongside the migraine. His mouth was all muddy, tasting of both vomit and dried saliva, the clothes so drenched in drying sweat stuck to him like paper mâché, making each movement rigid.

Ring, ring, ring.

He gagged but swallowed the bile and lubricated his tongue and trachea. After breathing in and out to subsidize the contortion of his stomach, he finally reached for the cracked phone in front of him. He flinched at the sudden brightness of it turning on but powered through the burning of his retinas to his ‘answer.’

BEEP!

He slowly dragged his phone up to his ear, inhaling and exhaling in rapid succession in an attempt to make himself sound less sick and drowsy…

“… Hello?” Only to fail.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lemillion!” The loud voice of his agent, Hiyori, filtered through the speaker of his phone, causing him to strain a groan as the pounding in his head worsened. “Where have you been? I called you three times already, and you never picked up!”

Mirio Togata, aka the Number One Hero: Lemillion sucked in the air sharply before letting out a long sigh. “I just woke up.”

“I can see that!” Hiyori cried, making Mirio want to bash his brains out on a wall to stop it from pounding. Oh my god! Please shut up, please shut up, please shut up, please shut up, please shut up- “You need to get going! I got a call from Shouta Aizawa saying that he needs you to attend a meeting with the Top 10!”

“Popularity Polls already? It’s barely March!” Mirio chuckled, trying to humor himself as he rolled on his back and draped his arm over his eyes. “Give him an invoice, I am too busy to attend.”

“Lemillion, this is serious." Hiyori chastised, causing the blonde to drop his smile dejectedly. “This is sanctioned by the Hero Commission. And you know they don’t do these types of meetings unless something is going to happen or-”

“All Hell has broken loose, yeah, yeah.” Mirio flared his nostrils as he sat up, his entire back creaking like an unoiled door, and his vision began to swim from the unholy combination of hallucinations from the dark and migraine sickness. “I’ll be there.”

He immediately ended the call without waiting for a response from Hiyori, only to grimace as his phone battery finally depleted, shutting it down. He sat on the ground, staring at the reflection of the darkened rings of exhaustion around his eyes on his smudged, cracked phone screen. He tried to smile brightly, but even he could see the futility as it seemed wobbly, and incredibly fake, not reaching his glossy, dim eyes, dropping it immediately after.

With a great effort, he pried himself off the ground and shakingly trudged over trash piles he never bothered to clean up. He limped over to the bathroom, haphazardly flipping up a light switch. After a few moments of continued darkness, the lightbulb that hung overhead finally blinked awake, only to bask the bathroom in an incredibly dull orange light due to a buildup of dust around it. It is probably for the best that it remains so dark that Mirio won’t have to see the absolutely filthy state of his bathroom.

With cold, clammy hands, Mirio turned the knob of his shower up to its hottest setting. He began the process of stripping himself down, however, the moment he grabbed the hem of his shirt, he froze. This is always the worst part…

He whimpered as he began to peel his drenched, stained t-shirt off his body. After shimmying out of the neck seam and sleeves, he threw his shirt to the side, shuddering a bit as it landed on the tiled floor with a wet shlop. He stared at the muddied reflection in the mirror.

Centered on his right pectoral and expanding to his ribs and abdomen was a black spider web-like crack, the skin looking dark and rotted. No unnatural scent emanates from it, but every time Mirio lays eyes upon it he becomes nauseous, a telltale sign of his rapidly declining lifespan.

The consequences of One For All.

He tore his eyes away from the mirrors, took his pants and underwear, and carefully stepped into his shower. The searing hot water immediately turned his tan skin an angry red, causing him to hiss as steam rose from off his aching body, but the scalding sensation was nothing, but a minor inconvenience compared to the pain of the ancient quirk slowly decaying his body. He relaxed as the steam in the air soothed his aching lungs and dry throat.

He dropped his head forward, leaning his forehead against the stained tile wall of his shower as he breathed in and out in an attempt to calm the pain sweltering throughout his entire body and in his aching skull.

He thought back to his childhood when he and Tamaki were playing video games when he suddenly slipped through the floor of his house the day he manifested his quirk. He then remembered spending the entirety of Middle School trying to train his quirk to become a student of UA. He remembered joining Sir Nighteye’s agency who taught him the ways of being a smiling hero. He remembered the day Nighteye gave him a private audience with All Might himself, who taught him the existence of both All For One and One For All.

The day he stupidly agreed to be the successor to the Symbol of Peace.

“EAT THIS!”

WHAM!

The tile cracked under the weight of the punch, with warm crimson liquid dripping down his fingers. Great… Now my knuckle hurts….

Ever since he agreed to take up the mantle and receive One For All his life has been a downward spiral! Breaking his bones over and over again as he tried to obtain a semblance of control over the ancient quirk. Meeting the old coot Gran Torino and getting his ass kicked by him day in and day out! Then Kamino Ward happened…

“It’s your turn now…” Toshinori Yagi’s final words as he died standing over the disintegrated corpse of All For One.

And with that Mirio trained harder than ever before, much to the worry of Nighteye.

“Mirio, you need to take a break-”

“I cannot. All hell has broken loose since All Might died, and now it is up to me to put it all back! Not Endeavor, not the Hero Public Safety Commission, ME! My sacred duty now is to bring smiles and happiness to those who need it most. Happiness has to be fought for…” 

Finally, after a year of hardship, his first major opportunity to fight for the happiness of others came.

The Shie Hassaikai Raid.

The mission to save Eri from the evil clutches of Overhaul. And the one to bring a smile to her face.

He won the fight against Overhaul after he inadvertently awakened Blackwhip. However, Eri went missing. No one could locate her, and Mirio personally tore the entire base apart in a desperate search, during an impromptu interrogation of Overhaul on her whereabouts, he claimed even he had no idea where she went.

This caused him to fucking lose it.

And Blackwhip went haywire, nearly paralyzing both of his arms.

To make matters even worse for Mirio, Sir Nighteye ended up perishing after the battle.

That day was the closest thing Mirio had to giving up.

The only saving grace was discovering Eri, alive and well in Principal Nezu’s office when he was just about to announce his resignation from the Hero Course. At that moment, he was given his second wind to be the greatest hero he could be. From finally getting Eri to smile at the Cultural Festival to gearing up to confront Shigaraki for the first and final time.

Mirio was so close, so close to defeating him, but All For One’s consciousness overrode Shigaraki’s, who then put Mirio in a coma.

When he woke up months later, Katsuki Bakugou had already killed Shigaraki and All For One along with him.

Mirio’s sole duty was to end All For One’s reign of terror using the quirk passed down by eight generations of users before him. And he failed. He felt as though all the sacrifices he and the rest of the One For All users made were in vain. 

His head throbbed again but this time he felt a disembodied connection trying to communicate with him. Mirio rubbed his temples with his bloodied hand. “I can hear you, Toshinori-sensei… Please, I don’t want to talk right now…”

The connection went silent.

Mirio sighed to himself as he felt the scorching hot water run down his naked body.

At least he’s the Number One hero now, that’s all that matters, right? No, even that is irrelevant to him now. There is still no sign that the evils of the world are disappearing. It hasn’t changed since even before he rose through the Hero Ranks. In other words, you can say he hasn’t made any impact.

The amount of pain being the final user of One For All brings him is quite literally killing him. He was supposed to die peacefully in his sleep at 30 years old, just like Hikage said he would. But now, at 34 years old, he is alive but certainly not living.

Every day he wakes up, he has to take so many pills and vitamins just to survive through the day. The constant pain of his dying body, coupled with the old, faded injuries he accumulated over the years caused him to resort to pain medications and alcohol, the two substances that remain that can do nothing but slightly ease the pain, much to the disapproval of the Vestiges living in his head. Unfortunately for them, he uses those same substances to drown them out.

Times like these make me wonder how much happier I truly would be if I never accepted One For All at all. I would still be Number One anyway.

He stayed silent for a long time, fantasizing about the life he could have lived if he had declined All Might’s offer.

Well. There is nothing I can do about it now. He reached for the bottle of shampoo, only to realize as he picked it up… that it was empty.

Mirio let out a long, excruciating sigh. “Damn it.”

After Mirio finished his scorching hot shower, he dried off and put on his Hero Costume, which had not changed at all since his years in UA except for the superfluous Lemilliomet which he had auctioned off for charity. Looking into the mirror, he grimaced at how large the black markings around his beady blue eyes became. He opened a cabinet, grabbed a small bottle of concealer, and carefully applied it, concealing the panda-like rings, making his skin seem almost flawless. He grabbed a bottle of hair gel, poured some in his hands, swept his hair backward, and reestablished his signature cowlick.

After cleaning his hands of the gel, he let out a breath as he mentally prepared for what came next. He grabbed a bright and nauseously colorful medicine organizer and popped open the small door that read “Tuesday.” He dumped out the entirety of its contents into his hand, watching as almost twelve separate tablets and pills piled on his palm. Due to One For All rapidly aging his body, he now needed to take as much medicine and vitamins as a sickly old man to function.

He hates it. Taking them one by one was time-consuming and a pain in the ass in his opinion. So he opted to just plop them all in his mouth and-

GULP!

“Ugh…” He groaned, sticking his tongue out in disgust, taking a swig of water to wash down the pills that much easier. There’s a Pac-Man joke in there somewhere. He mused to himself, causing him to crack the faintest of smiles. Only for another throb of pain to pierce through his skull.

His eye twitched from his still pulsating hangover, so he grabbed his (now charged) phone and sent Hiyori a text.

Mr. 1000000 💩:
Yo, Hiyori

Can you ask someone to get me a bottle of Pedialyte before I head out?

Komurasaki 🍇 🍇 🍇:
👌🏻 👌🏻 👌🏻

Mr. 1000000 💩:
Thx

U da best 😁 😁 😁

Mirio let out a huff as he lowered his phone, looking at the reflection in the mirror with a schooled expression… Only for it to morph into a bright, practiced smile. A smile much more realistic to the naked eye, one that suspiciously lacked the weight and pain it carried behind it. A smile carried by three generations before him.

Alright, let’s get to work.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!” A jovial, masculine voice chirped, immediately annoying Mirio the moment he walked through the door. Turning his head to find the source of the voice he found a man with curly, black hair wearing a golden jaw-guard and thick green straps over his shoulders smiling wryly at him while sitting at a large conference table along with many other people. “You’re usually a no-show to these types of meetings.”

Yo Shindo - Grand
Number Nine Pro Hero

“My apologies for my tardiness!” Mirio said, ignoring the goading smiles sent his way by the black-haired man. “I stayed up late last night looking at cat videos!”

“LEMILLION-SAN!” A man wearing a full set of knight armor with a race car motif cried out as he stood up from his seat, chopping his hands up and down. “BEING TARDY IS INCREDIBLY UNBECOMING OF A PRO-HERO ESPECIALLY ONE WITH THE HONOR OF BEING NUMBER ONE! YOU ARE SETTING A POOR PRECEDENT FOR YOUR COLLEAGUES!”

Tenya Iida – Turbo Hero: Ingenium
Number Seven Pro Hero

“INGENIUM! I MUST ASK YOU TO NOT JUDGE LEMILLION ON HOW HE SPENDS HIS FREE TIME!” Another incredibly loud voice piped up, causing the aforementioned blond to let out a slight sigh of annoyance as his ears began ringing. The voice came from a man wearing a large burgundy suit with a thick fur collar, his left hand encased in a thick brown glove.

Inasa Yoarashi – Gale Force
Number Eight Pro Hero

“WATCHING CAT VIDEOS IS AN EXCELLENT METHOD OF WINDING DOWN AFTER A HARD DAY OF BEING A HERO! HELL, I WATCH THEM WITH MY WIFE-” However, he couldn’t continue as his face was suddenly completely covered by a black capture scarf.

“Aaaaand that’s where I cut you off before you give everyone here a migraine.” A woman with shoulder-length silver hair and a horn sighed as she held onto the black capture scarf wrapped around both of her arms. Along with the capture scarf, she wore a white bodysuit with a large capital E proudly displayed on her chest, along with a black utility belt, elbow pads, gloves, knee pads, boots, and a dark red visor over her eyes.

Eri Aizawa – E-Revert
Number Ten Pro Hero

Gale Force gave no negative reaction to being assaulted by the capture scarf, only giving a thumbs up, prompting E-Revert to uncoil the capture scarf to reveal the wind-based hero’s perpetual smile.

“E-REVERT! I MUST ASK YOU TO NOT-” Ingenium, however, halted his tirade as E-Revert gave him a dark look which caused his ever-serious expression to falter, and a chill to run down his spine.

“You want the smoke too, Iida?” She asked in a dangerously low voice as she brandished her black scarf threateningly.

Immediately the Turbo Hero sat his ass back down to the seat with an obedient posture. “I have overstepped my boundaries. Forgive me, E-Revert-san.” He responded in an uncharacteristically calm tone.

BAHAHAHA! A young man wearing burgundy padded armor, small water tanks attached to his shoulders with a series of flexible tubes running down his arms, with golden horns coming out from his helmet that is the same color as his armor, fitted with a gray visor covering his black eyes broke out into manic laughter at Ingenium’s fear. “You absolute chickenshit- ACK! ”

Kota Izumi – Water Hazard Hero: Undertow
E-Revert’s Tag Along

“You’re not safe either Kota-chan…” His fiancée giggled as she tightened the capture scarf around his neck.

“Can we get this meeting over with?” A dark-skinned woman with white hair and rabbit ears wearing a white leotard with a purple trim drawn as she leaned her head on one of her prosthetic hands. “I have a class to teach soon, and it’d be nice for me to be there on time without bureaucratic bullshit slowing me down…”

Rumi Usagiyama – Mirko
Number 6 Pro Hero

“You know how this shit goes already, Rabbit-sensei.” An ash blond-haired man wearing a padded black jacket with an orange “X” running across his chest muttered as he adjusted the grenade-shaped gauntlets on his wrist. Next to him, a fawn-haired woman wearing a tight black catsuit with silver cuffs on each wrist and a black biker hat with a chain wrapped around it sat back in her seat, resting her legs on the blond-haired man’s knees. “This shit was tailor-made to waste our time.”

Katsuki Bakugou – Ground Zero
Number Two Pro Hero

Camie Bakugou – Illus-O-Camie
Ground Zero’s Tag Along

“But Bakugou-san, if the entirety of the Top Ten were called to this, then it must be important.” A woman with long black hair wrapped in a ponytail strolled out wearing a thin red, sleeveless bodysuit lightly argued, causing the blond-haired bomber to scoff.

Momo Yaoyorozu – Creati
Number Four Pro Hero

“It did sound very grim when I got the summoning call…” agreed a man with long, red and white hair with a burn scar around his left eye, who was wearing a dark blue jacket with a metal-plated combat vest.

Shouto Todoroki – Frost Fire
Number Three Pro Hero

“Um, excuse me,” A woman with short, brown hair and puffy pink cheeks, and wore a skintight black and pink bodysuit meekly said as she raised her hand, which sported a spherical gauntlet. “If the Top 10 were called, why was I called? ”

Ochako Uraraka – Uravity
Rescue Specialist

“Same reason why I was called here, Uravity.” A man with purple, ball-shaped hair and a purple jumpsuit with a large, yellow scarf that covered the bottom half of his face replied. “Because we are at the top of our divisions.”

Minoru Mineta – Renaissance Hero: Pluton
Underground Specialist

Uravity hummed, only resting her chin on the backs of her hands as gave a sad glance to the woman next to her. She wore a tight body suit similar to Uravity’s, but it was blue and pale mint instead. Her hair was a radiant periwinkle color cut to the length of her shoulders, with two spiraling stands coiling above her head like horns. Finally, the left side of her face was littered with burn scarring, which seemed to crinkle as she smiled serenely while staring silently at the table in front of her.

Nejire Hado – Nejire-chan
Number 5 Pro Hero

Mirio sat down right next to her, frowning at how distant she seemed. In UA she was so bubbly and uplifting to those around her, just like him, causing their personalities to clash every once in a while. But now she was a shell, just like him. So traumatized by the events of the Wars she became a selective mute. It’s been almost a decade now that he had heard her voice. And even longer since she sounded happy.

“H- Hey, Nejire…” Lemillion whispered to her, prompting her to turn to face him, her plastic smile never leaving her face. “How are you holding up?”

Nejire’s lips stretched, tensing her smile as she simply nodded at him before turning back to look at the table. Mirio’s frown deepened. Takami has spent years trying to break her out of this shell, ironic really. The man who hated the mere concept of interacting with others became her voice. It’s both sweet and sad. I hope he’s doing alright as well.

Mirio’s thoughts came to a close as the door suddenly opened to reveal the greying Principal of UA, the retired Underground Hero: Eraserhead.

“Oh, everyone is here. Good, we can get started then.” The O5 Council member noted as he glanced around the room. “I sincerely apologize for calling you all on such short notice, but this meeting is of grave importance. The O5 Council called upon all of you because you are all the best of the best at what you do.”

Aizawa watched as everyone’s faces hardened as they braced themselves for the severity of the meeting. Katuski, however, only scowled deeper with annoyance rather than resolve.

“Whatever it is, it better be good…” He growled in barely suppressed rage. “Because if this is a load of shit, I am bringing this entire fucking building to the ground.”

That wasn’t a threat, it was a guarantee by the blond bomber.

“Ah, the unstable Pomeranian, I missed that gimmick of yours.” Grand chuckled with a wide, cocky smile on his face. “But let’s be completely honest you have neither the balls nor strength to do it.”

“HUH? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO ME YOU OVERGLORIFIED VIBRATOR?”

“ENOUGH!” Aizawa ended the argument before his old student could escalate it even further. “Bakugou, sit your ass down and listen. Shindo, stop antagonizing everyone before I ask Eri to gag you for the remainder of the meeting. This is a serious matter that can permanently alter the balance of power should we leave it unchecked and you will be the heroes to stand up to this threat. Is that understood?”

Grand and Ground Zero both turn to E-Revert, who is pulling on her capture scarf menacingly, with a manic glint in her eye. A shiver ran down both of their spines.

“Loud and clear.” “Understood…” Both muttered as they both simultaneously screamed out in their head. NEPOTISM!

Aizawa sighed.

“There is a new drug loose in the Black Market. A quirk-enhancing one never seen before. One that could change the balance of power between Heroes and Villains. However,” He leaned forward on the meeting table. “I cannot accurately articulate the details of this drug in a concise or meaningful way. So, I brought someone more experienced in this field to do the briefing in my stead. Sphinx, if you will…”

“Finally…” A voice emanating from the top of the conference room rang out, prompting most of the heroes (sans E-Revert and Undertow) to look up in shocked confusion.

At the very top of the conference room on the rafters, lay a body strewn across the metal supports in seemingly uncomfortable angles. A single, shining green eye opened to stare down at the meeting table below… before it began slowly sliding off the rebars, threatening to fall and land head-first onto the table. Sensing that the mysterious figure was about to fall, Bakugou, Mirio, and Uraraka stood up intending to catch it. However, Bakugou and Mirio were both restrained by E-Revert, and Uraraka was stopped by Undertow, who shook his head at the rescue heroine.

Miraculously in mid-descent, the figure somehow tucked his knees in as his body flipped backward, only to land on top of the table on both feet, barely making a sound or causing the reinforced table to even shake. The man slowly straightened out his legs as he stood. He had a head of wild, green hair, adorned with a pair of cat ears and sunglasses pushed up to his brow. He also wore a pair of black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white t-shirt displaying kanji saying “Wild, Wild Pussycats” written in black marker.

Oh, you have got to be shitting me… Bakugou thought as he stared, jaw clenched, at the man.

“MIDORIYA!?” The four UA staff members scream out in unison causing the cat-eared man to smile with a slight laugh.

“An entire room of only the most elite heroes and none of you noticed him… Most of you were once a student of mine at one point. Did I not teach you to stay alert at all times?” Aizawa growled at the shell-shocked heroes in the conference room.

I didn’t even sense him; this is the second time he did shit like this! Mirko blinked in surprise at her fellow UA administrator.

Who is this man? He seems familiar… Ingenium wondered.

What the heck? Why does he look so much like me? Grand narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

I noticed him the moment I walked through the door. Mused E-Revert with a smug grin. I thought it’d be funny to see their reactions.

“Cut them a bit of slack, Aizawa…” Midoriya chuckled. “You wouldn’t notice me if you were not actively looking for me…”

He brought his hands forward and masterfully cartwheeled off the table landing feet first onto the ground right next to Aizawa, bowing before the entire group of heroes. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. If you already know me then it is very nice to see you again. For those unfamiliar with me, my name is Dr. Izuku Midoriya, please just call me Midoriya. I am a civilian rescue contractor and a member of the Wild, Wild Pussycats under the alias: Sphinx. I am the newest member of the UA Administration, working as the institution’s Quirk Theory teacher. I am a Board-Certified Quirk Analyst with a double specialty in Diagnostics and Counseling. I will be your presenter for today. So enough with the delays, Eraserhead will you please hit the lights?”

Aizawa let out a deep sigh, but complied anyway, flipping the light switch down allowing for the lights to dim as a projector awakened. The projection, which appeared at the empty wall of the conference room, displayed an image of a small capsule with a red nucleus enveloped by a pink membrane.

“This… is Compound Logia.” Midoriya began to explain. “It is the newest in a long line of quirk enhancers. Big woof right? Wrong. What sets Logia apart from the more recognizable quirk enhancers like Trigger, is that this one only affects those who possess Primordial Emitter quirks.”

“QUESTION, MIDORIYA-SAN!” Gale Force shouted enthusiastically as he stood up, raising his hand.

“YES, GALE FORCE-SAN?” Midoriya responded with the same amount of energy and volume, causing some of the other heroes to groan. THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!

“… what are ‘Primordial Emitters?’” The cyclone hero asked in a (mercifully) normal tone.

“Excellent question.” The cat-eared man responded as he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out his hand and threw something at Gale Force, who caught it in his hand. Opening up his fist he found… a lollipop… “Quirks can all be designated into one of three categories: Mutations, Transformations, and Emitters. Of course, with a bit of overlap at times, but I digress. Emitters, however, can be separated into two subcategories: Primordial and Esoteric.”

"Primordial Emitter Quirks are Emitters that produce and control the 4 Primordial Elements: Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire. From those four come their derivatives: Plants, Ice, Lava, and Electricity. And from there, we have their derivatives, so on and so forth until the Emitters’ elements become more uncanny, more conceptual: Gravity, Creation, Vibration, Time… To which point they become Esoteric Emitters. Logia-" Midoriya smacked the projection with his open palm. “Works to not only enhance the power output of Primordial Emitters, but we have reason to believe they turn the user into a living version of their quirk without being affected by any form of backlash…”

The entire room went silent as they digested the information presented to them. Creati looked over to her husband, who turned completely pale at the notion of the living quirk. It did not take a genius to understand who he was thinking of. Even after the wars, Dabi would stop at nothing to kill everyone in his way, including the Todoroki family. The image of Dabi in his white phosphorus form after taking Logia… to have him continuously burn without injuring himself…

The projection flipped to reveal schematics and calculations of varying degrees. “Users of Logia would see the entirety of their quirk factor quintuple, enough for it to temporarily break down the entire human genome. The way the quirk can break apart the human body physically is something I cannot pretend to comprehend. However, the anonymous source that provided us with this information, claimed that ‘foreign objects and the effects of other people’s quirks will pass through the user’s entire body. Meaning once it is taken, they will become completely intangible to harm … ’”

Lemillion’s fingers twitch. Intangibility… While not completely the same as Permeation, his natural-born quirk, the idea of matter harmlessly passing through a human body without harm whatsoever, added with the amplification of elemental quirks all in the hands of street villains…

“To make matters even worse is that our anonymous source claims that it had been produced and distributed by Tomoyasu Chikazoku of the Meta Liberation Army to strengthen what remains of the True Believers…” There was a chorus of groans and sharp gasps echoed throughout the conference room as the presentation slide changed into an image of the former member of Feel Good Inc. “As of now, we have no idea the scope of the damage that will be caused should they access Logia. But the O5 council says that we may be looking at a potential TK-Class Casual Restructuring Event, entire cities may be destroyed and potentially thousands will be displaced. That is why I specifically called Uravity and Pluton to join us for this meeting.”

“M- Me?”

“Uraraka, you are the highest-ranking rescue hero. And because of this, you will find your work cut out for you. Lava in areas where volcanic activity should not even be possible, flash floods in the driest of locations. Blizzard in the middle of Summer. When a logia user inevitably comes to blows with the heroes, you will be the first one to rise to the occasion and look for survivors.” His face softened as his lips curled upward ever so slightly. “I am sure by the time this is over, that 600,000 lives saved will look like it is just a blip in your record…”

Uravity for her part, said nothing. Her face was slowly but surely heating up at the praise. When the cat-eared man continued to do his presentation and all attention seemed to be on him, Uraraka pressed both of her swelteringly hot cheeks in her hand. What the heck is going on with me?

Unbeknownst to her, Pluton, E-Revert, and Undertow all notice her state of confusion and distress. The latter two only smirk in recognition, while the purple-haired underground hero lets out a halfhearted eye roll.

Mirko was first to raise her hand, prompting the green-haired man to nod in her direction. “Not that I do not believe that the potential danger of the Logia Compound is real, but how can we trust this anonymous source giving us this information?”

Only Midoriya noticed how Kota and Eri were trying their best to suppress a smirk. “Well, I have neither the knowledge nor clearance to know who the anonymous source is, but he or she must be credible enough for them to bring to our attention.”

“Ah, the Overseers and their secrecy…” Grand sighed bitterly, resting his cheek on his hand. “How can you not love it?”

E-Revert let out a huff as she grabbed the cigarette that was resting in the crook of her ear.

“Relax Shindo, I am sure they’re just doing everything in their power to not become egomaniacal lobbyists like the last bitch who ran it pre-war. Todoroki can you…” Frost Fire said nothing as his left arm reached out with a small flame emanating from his thumb, allowing the horned heroine to light her cigarette and take a drag. She poignantly ignored the glare coming from her father as smoke came out of her mouth. “Thanks. Anyway, back to the topic at hand, how many Compound Logia users are we looking at?”

“I am not sure. But potentially? Thirty.” The cat-eared man replied.

“Fuck.” Pluton groaned as he began rubbing his temples.

“Are there any outward signs we must look for to identify a Logia user?” Ingenium asked while simultaneously raising his hand.

“Considering they are members of the MLA, they might just announce their presence as they make their attack. But there haven’t been any records of testing done. The same answer can be applied to Logia having negative effects on the user after the initial power boost wears off.”

“But considering it might be a version of Trigger, we might see a sharp decrease in cognitive function and reasoning. Adverse side effects of Trigger itself.” Aizawa added.

“I see, thank you Midoriya-san, Aizawa-sensei.”

“It’s no problem, Iida.” Midoriya turned back to the crowd. “Are there any other questions?”

Silence filled the conference room, some heroes shaking their heads. 

“Now, the main reason you have all been called is your memorandum of instruction starting today. Everyone in the top ten must inform your agencies, including subsidiaries, partnered agencies, sidekicks, and interns about the existence and effects of Compound Logia. Begin forming contingencies on how to counteract the element abilities and how to implement them in a confrontation. Pluton contact your partners and any… people who you trust enough with this information and try to track down and bust any dealers of Logia. Uravity, get your agency on standby, get into contact with paramedics and the firefighters and other hero agencies about the potential effects of Logia on the environment.” Midoriya listed off before turning toward the heroes. “If there are no other questions then this meeting shall come to a close. If there is anything you wish to discuss with me I will be right outside. I do not want to take up your time any longer, so, dismissed!”

Katsuki watched as his best friend sauntered out the door, with Glasses quickly following right behind him. He tried very hard to keep his breathing level. His ears were ringing as his thick, nitroglycerine sweat began to make him feel sticky in his hero costume.

“Suki?” Camie’s voice suddenly snapped Katsuki out of his panic.

“I- I need to talk to him.” He wheezed out, standing up and hastily sprinting out the door, leaving his wife behind with no explanation, cutting right in front of Lemillion as he was on his way out. 

The Number One Pro Hero took a step back, blinking in confusion before turning to Camie, who only offered him a shrug. What the hell was all that about?

Katsuki stepped out of the conference room, looking around for Deku.

“... I knew you seemed familiar! You were the same Izuku Midoriya who wrote three theses on Quirk Genomes!” He heard Glasses say. Turning around he saw Deku talking animatedly with the Turbo Hero, being flanked by Cheeks.

“Yeah! He’s a genius when it comes to Quirks!” Cheeks added with a massive smile. “He helped Kirishima-san’s son, Shinsuke-kun by identifying what was making his strength output so high!”

“I mean I wouldn’t say I am a genius…” Deku mumbled, scratching the back of his neck with a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the praise. 

Cheeks huffed, shaking her head… looking fond. “Aw, you’re too humble, Midoriya-san! No one else would have figured it out but you!”

“I agree with Uraraka!” Glasses suddenly lit up with an idea. “My son, Tengen, actually needs a proper quirk analysis of his own so I can start training him to control it! Would you be available to provide it?”

“M- ME? I um… sure. I would love to do that!”

Cheeks giggled at how flustered he was acting.

“Excellent! I will send you the information when the time is right!” Glasses looked at his watch. “Oh my apologies, I must get back to my patrol! It was very nice meeting you, Midoriya-san!”

He then turned around, putting his helmet back on his head before walking in the opposite direction of the cat-eared man and space-themed heroine. Katsuki swallowed thickly before approaching his childhood best friend. “Deku-”

The green-haired man heard him, that was for certain, as his cat ears seemed to twitch in recognition of his voice. But he refused to look in his direction.

“Midoriya, we need to get back to UA before classes start!” Cheeks (frustratingly) called out.

“Deku, I need-” His voice was weak, unconfident. Something unheard of from the blonde bomber. Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, no one heard him, and the one man who did ignored him.

“Right.” He responded, beginning to trek away from the blonde bomber. 

“Deku wait-”

Katsuki grabbed Izuku’s arm, causing the green-haired man’s head to snap to look at his childhood friend. His green eyes were now dull, the cat ears turned to the side and stiffened upwards. The shockwave of homicidal rage flooded the room like an invisible tsunami. However, the only one to feel it-

SKREEEE!

GAH!

… was Mirio, who lurched forward and gripped his head as Danger Sense flared up like it had never done before. What in the world?

“Lemillion-san, are you alright?” Iida asked in concern.

“Yeah, yeah I just…” The Number One Hero looked behind him, noticing both Midoriya and Bakugou having their stare down at each other, the tension surrounding them so thick that it may even gain mass. “Have a bit of a headache.”

“Oh, I see…” The Turbo Hero began his shpiel of how keeping oneself healthy is an important aspect of being a hero, but Mirio just tuned him out. Instead, he was much more interested in the interaction between Uraraka, Midoriya, and Bakugou.

“Bakugou…” Uraraka gasped slightly, confused at why he was grabbing onto Midoriya's arm.

Katsuki wasn't stupid. For his part, he recognized the fact that he fucked up by grabbing Deku like that. Now he wasn't looking into the eyes of his best friend, but rather the eyes of The Manticore. But that wasn't going to stop him from saying what he wanted- no, what he needed to say. He swallowed the saliva that formed in the back of his throat.

“They need to see you. Pops has cancer… And it spread everywhere.” Katsuki’s voice became much more solemn. “We don’t know how much longer he has, but it’d be great if you accepted the invite… To them, you are still their little Izuku, no matter how long you spend away from them…”

Izuku continued to stare into his best friend’s soul for a few moments longer. Eventually, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. When he opened his eyes back up, they were once again glistening full of life, and his scowl turned into an incredibly warm, if small, smile. “I will let them know when I have time.”

With that, Izuku slipped his arm out of Katsuki’s ironclad grasp, sauntering down the halls alongside a befuddled Uraraka, who began to ask him questions the blonde didn’t even try to hear, leaving his best friend behind who was standing stiff, sweating from the intensity of the silent exchange they just had. And when a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, he tensed further. Only to find Camie staring up at him with concern written all over her face.

“Suki? Are… you okay?”

“Y- yeah, yeah. I… It’s just that I hadn’t seen him in years.” Katsuki finally relaxed his shoulders, drooping his head lightly as his eyes had a sad, longing look to them.

Camie reached up and gently massaged Katsuki’s cheek as she frowned. She may be airheaded, but she isn’t stupid. She knows there is something wrong with her husband. And it was worrying her. Because the look on his face was the same one he had after… after…

“Ground Zero was found unconscious outside a burning warehouse. The amount of blood he lost might be fatal…”

Get out of my head.  

She closed her eyes, eyebrows pinched as she tried to lock away the nightmare of a memory. It was around the same time Izuku moved away from Japan to continue his work around the world. After Katsuki fully recovered, he came back home in the dead of night, his eyes were red and puffy and there were tear streaks under his eyes. Something happened that night between him and Izuku. Despite her husband's objections, she was convinced they had a fight about something. She tried pressing him for more information, but she was shut down real quick. Eventually, after a year of pestering, she gave up trying to get him to open up about it. The closest she got was when he stared at her during an argument.

“It’s not like I don’t want to. I just can't .”

…

…

…

No. That’s a fucking stupid thought, Camie. Izuku couldn’t hurt anyone, much less Suki. They love each other like brothers. There would be no way…

She shook her head before looking up at Katsuki. Her eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. “I know! How about we visit your mom and have dinner with Izuku? What do you say?”

Katsuki only blinked for a moment. However, he let out a huff, cracking a small smile of his own. “Yeah… That sounds good.”

His lower lip trembled in nervousness at the catastrophic potential that this might bring. I hope…

Mirio watched from the other end of the hallway with an analytical eye. Something about Midoriya feels… both very familiar and incredibly off. The way he walks, the way he talks… he’s hiding something. And the powerful pulse of anger emanated from him when Ground Zero grabbed, one that caused his Denger Sense to shift into overdrive.

“He reminds you of them too, right?” Nana whispered in the back of his mind.

I don’t want to say that… I can’t compare someone who I barely know to those monsters.

“Interesting…”

Ring, Ring, Ring

Ring, Ring, Ring

Ring, Ring, Ring

CLICK!

“What is it?” An incredibly hoarse voice growled out before having to cough as they angrily answered the phone.

“Dabi.” Tomoyasu Chikazoku responded curtly to the threatening tone of the Arch Arsonist.

“Oh, it’s the bowl cut.” Dabi groaned, possibly rolling his eyes at the other end of the line. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Logia. It’s ready.”

Dabi was silent for a few terse moments. “… I’m listening…”

March 13th, 2233
Yokohama, 25 minutes away from “Ground Zero”

Clickclickclickclick…

The Manticore slowly adjusted the Side Focus Adjustment dial of the scope of his sniper rifle, watching as the image on his scope became sharper. He lifted and pulled back the bolt of his Serbu BFG-50, opening it to load a single .50 BMG volatile tipped round into the chamber. He cautiously closed the chamber, setting the rifle down, resting on its tripod as he looked up into the night sky. Due to the light pollution of the bustling city, there were no stars visible, leaving the full moon glowing uncontested in the heavens above.

A beautiful night for the extermination of the last of the PLF.

He looked down at his wristwatch. 3:54 AM, just a few minutes before it all came to a head. His eyes unfocused for just a moment before he zeroed in on his reflection staring back at him. Dull green eyes surrounded by thick and messily applied black face paint. Just mere hours ago he was Izuku Midoriya, sitting at home working on some counseling cases, thinking about what to have for dinner. Now he wasn’t.

All that remains is the hatred for villains manifested. The walking husk of a man and a sleeping monster. Would Mom recognize me still?

“Manticore,” The voice of his apprentice coming from his communications earpiece snapped him out of his thoughts. “Everyone’s in position.”

“Copy that, Apollyon,” Manticore responded as he readjusted his wristwatch so it would be facing the bottom of his wrist. “Cernunnos, give me a sitrep.”

“All heroes patrolling the area redirected, don’t expect divine intervention to stop us today,” Katsuma responded.

“Excellent… Ticonderoga?”

“Streets are blocked and flooded, comms with first responders are delayed,” Kota replied.

“Copy all, get out of sight and out of mind. Apollyon, you know what to do when I give the order.”

“Roger that, Manticore. We’ll RTB when you give the All Clear. Over.” Eri signed off, leaving Manticore by himself on the rooftop he perched himself on.

After a few moments of contemplative silence, the Manticore sighed as he attached himself to the abseiling rope that was hanging off the edge of the building. Checking his harness, he finally brought himself down to a prone position, looking into the viewing lens of his sniper scope. Let this be the last time they feel true fear, let this be the last time they will ever feel like they are about to die. Today, thousands of souls can finally be put to rest. For All Might, for the heroes who valiantly gave their lives. And for me…

“We’re being watched…”

“We know.” “We know.”

“It’s like there are many of them, all flickering in and out. It’s disorientating, and I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from.” Himiko Toga muttered, licking her fangs with closed lips. Her feline eyes scan the rooftops to find who is currently spying on them. However, she cannot quite pinpoint it. “It’s probably Skeptic’s weird puppet things…”

“Aren’t they supposed to be drones controlled by him?” A man wearing a ragged yellow trench coat with an equally tattered top hat asked as he moved the white mask to the side of his head to reveal the wrinkly, scarred skin underneath as he rolled a blue marble in his mechanical hand.

“He said to me a while ago that he went through a Quirk Evolution.” An incredibly withered man responded with a cough, his skin was charred black and shriveled, and his jaw barely being held together by a series of stitches hoarsely responded. “Now he only has to give one command and they begin to work independently from him, or some shit like that…”

“So, do they have their eyesight now? Or are their memories uploaded to a hive-mind conscious? Are the puppets conscious?” Himiko began to spout off, causing Dabi and Mr. Compress to stare at the blonde serial killer with flat looks on their face. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s just get this shit over with.” The withered raisin that vaguely resembles a humanoid growled as he continued to stiffly walk down the streets, feeling the stares of their unseen audience disappear.

The trio of villains finally stopped at their destination. A lonely, run-down warehouse, once used by the PLF to lay low when the heat on their backs by law becomes too much. A warehouse that holds major sentimental value, it was where they were teleported to after the Kamino Ward Incident, where they mourned their comrades after the wars concluded. Compress slowly slid his mask back onto his dark brown eyes staring at the building intently, Himiko’s bottom lip trembled at the memories she had of this place. Dabi, however, remained stoic.

“Himiko, stay here and watch our backs.”

“Aye-aye captain.” Himiko gave a mock salute with a half-hearted serious look on her face.

“Compress, you’re with me to transport the stuff.”

“I’ll be right behind you.” The magician replied as he rolled a blue marble in between his fingers.

“If this guy pisses me off, I’ll torch his ass. His use to us will be limited once we have Logia.”

“You mean when you have Logia.” Himiko pointed out as she ran her fingers down the dull side of her knife. “You’re the only one who can use it after all.”

The Cremation Villain only rolled his eyes, his shriveled lips twitching upwards causing pain to shoot up his face. Any sort of facial movements pulled on both his stitches and his tender skin. He patted the cat-eyed psychopath on the head, causing her to giggle. “Let’s go, Compress.”

The Magician trailed Dabi as Arch Arsonist opened the door leading into the warehouse. They slowly crept inside cautiously looking around for any sign of trouble. Scanning the area, they did not let out a breath as they realized just how empty the entire place was. They would have expected to see at least one of Skeptic’s humanoid puppets staring at them with empty eyes… But it seemed completely desolate!

Dabi and Compress gave each other a fleeting look before slowly creeping into the warehouse, noting the faint, rank stench that grew stronger as they reached the main storage area. The magician grimaced at the smell, looking at Dabi who remained undeterred, possibly due to his sense of smell being permanently shot from burning himself so many times. The sentient raisin grunted as he pried the door open, allowing for a dense wave of putrid stink to escape causing Compress to gag from both the surprising amount of heat and the disgusting odor. “Dear lord…”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Do you not smell that?” 

“No,” Dabi growled, causing Compress to suck in through his teeth.

“Sorry…” Compress quickly apologized as he looked into the darkness of the room. “It’s just… something smells awful in there…”

He had his fair share of the stench of death before, the battlefields of the wars desensitized him to it. But this… this was excessive.

“Get over yourself.” Dabi bit as he reached for the light switch. Flipping it up, the light from above blinked to life.

In the center of the room was a large blue tarp, ones used to cover cars, covering something vertically. The two villains approached the blue tarp, with the Arch Arsonist opting to swiftly uncover the covering-

“Woah!” “Holy shit. ”

Dabi and Compress recoil away from the covered object with the former looking around, wondering if someone was playing some kind of sick joke on them. The duo then looks closer to try and fully comprehend what exactly they are looking at.

Sitting bound to a chair was the rotting, decapitated corpse of whom they just knew was Tomoyasu Chikazoku, whose severed head was being gripped tightly by his own cold, dead hands on his lap. Carved directly into the face of the dead MLA commander was a cross, cutting perfectly down from the forehead to the chin, with the mouth being cut wider to make the horizontal intercept of the cross.

“Son of a bitch! This was a setup.” Dabi shouted as he stomped out. “We’re going to find the little shit who did this!”

“But who did this? It surely cannot be a hero. They wouldn’t do… that. Must be a vigilante.”

“Vigilante, villain, the Queen of fucking ENGLAND! I DON’T CARE!” Dabi roared, causing blood to squirt out of his tongue as his hands began to smoke. It must have been the bastard that was stalking us earlier! “I AM GOING TO FIND WHOEVER DID THIS AND ATOMIZE THEM! GRAH! ”

Dabi kicked a nearby crate with such force that his entire leg smashed through the wood, causing splinters to stab into his leg, not that he noticed due to his lack of pain receptors. He let out a string of curses, condemning the name of whoever done in Skeptic, and called him using the PLF lieutenant's voice to lure them to his message. Only to abruptly stop as he let out multiple violent coughs that not only racked throughout his entire body causing him to lurch forward, but also caused him to spit out a concerning amount of blood onto the floor.

“Dabi!” Compress gasped in concern as he quickly went to his teammate’s side to tend to him. “Are you okay?”

Dabi spat out the remaining blood from his mouth as he removed his foot from the hole in the crate. “I'm fine, Compress. I’, fine… I said I’m fucking- ”

Dabi suddenly froze as the light of the warehouse illuminated the inside of the box he had just kicked. Ducking down to get a close look, his eyes widened as he got up and stepped backward. “Shit…”

“What is it?”

“That…” The Arch Arsonist’s shriveled hand pointed at the gaping hole in the box. “That’s full of dynamite…”

“… what?”

The cremation villain then rushed to open another crate right next to him. And then another… And another. Each one opened causing his heavily damaged heart to beat faster as each one was filled to the brim with explosives. “This entire place is rigged to blow.”

This was a plot to take us all out at once. FUCK! I knew I should have done this alone…

“DABI! DABI!” Himiko’s frantic voice cut through the Arch Arsonist’s thoughts as she quickly ran up to the pair of villains with a hysterically terrified look on her face. “We have a problem!”

“What- Himi- C- Calm down-.” Dabi quickly tried to get the blonde serial killer to breathe. “What is it?”

“I- I heard beeping from around the corner. And when I went to check it out, I found a detonation charge hooked up to a crate full of explosives!”

And for the first time in his life, Dabi felt cold. Neither the ice of either Geten or Frost Fire can begin to compare to the sudden chill he found running down his spine. The frosty hand of death teases the cremated skin of his back. “We need to leave. Compress-”

“Already on it!” The showman replied as he compressed multiple explosive crates into marbles.

ZZZZTS, KRRR ZZZT

A buzzing noise emanated from the rotting carcass of Tomoyasu Chikazoku, causing the three villains to look at it with wide eyes.

“Get ready for a surprise!” A hauntingly high-pitched and distorted voice giggled sending a wave of terror throughout the three occupants of the warehouse.

BEEP

“Oh no.”

KABOOOOM!

A massive shockwave shattered the windows of buildings within half a kilometer shatter and a massive fireball reached into the sky, all the while the Manticore perched in his sniping position watched with a dark expression.

Dabi held on for dear life to Himiko, covering her as best as he could with his body as they both were launched out of the warehouse. The fact the fireball didn’t consume them immediately was a miracle. He landed hard, skidding across what seemed to be asphalt leaving a trail of darkness behind as he did so. He didn’t know for sure as his vision began to swim. His trip across the asphalt came to a sudden and violent end as the side of his body hit the edge of the sidewalk. He was certain something in his body snapped when he did stop. He doesn’t know… he couldn’t hear where it came from.

Now that he finally thinks about it, he can’t hear anything!

My eardrums must have been blown out in the explosion. He mused to himself as he struggled to sit up, even after Himiko peeled herself away from him. He cautiously craned his neck to look up at the blonde slasher, noticing the dark red liquid pouring out of her ear canals. Her face was dusty, but he could still clearly see the anguish on her face as she stared at the warehouse, now lying in smoldering ruins. She was screaming something too. Impress? No, she’s screaming ‘Compress!’

Oh fuck… Sako… He was in the epicenter of the explosion. No way he could have escaped the fireball. “We need to get out of here.”

He is sure he spoke, but Himiko doesn’t notice. Oh right, her ears. So, he decided to reach out with both hands and clasped her arm to get her attention. One hand grabbed her wrist… One. Himiko snapped her gaze down, her eyes incredibly narrow, possibly the narrowest, the more fearful he had ever seen them… Only for them to widen in recognition.

Dabi didn’t know what she said next, but by reading her lips… Your… arm?

He looked down, noticing his right hand wasn’t gripping her wrist as he previously thought. Looking towards his shoulder, he noticed that his entire right arm, leading up to the clavicle, was gone. Leaving behind a bleeding socket. He didn’t have time to dwell. They needed to get out of there, ASAP.

“We have to go!” Dabi enunciates each word so that Himiko can understand despite her deafness.

Her pupils expand in recognition before nodding, helping the toasty arsonist to his feet before booking it like a bat out of hell down the boulevard.

“Dabi and Toga are making a run for it.” Apollyon chimed in through to comm. “I don’t see Compress anywhere; I think he was caught in the crux of the blast. Permission to tail them?”

“You stay where you are,” Manticore immediately demanded in a harsh whisper as he looked through his sniper scope. “Where are they headed to?”

“Heading in the designated kill area, half a klick out.”

“Like fish in a barrel.” Ticonderoga snickered.

“Ticonderoga, Cernunnos, what’s the status of the attention we are bringing?”

“Heroes have begun to mobilize to the explosion, we got about 7 minutes before we need to buzz out!” Cernunnos responded hastily.

“No civilian chatter, but the Hero Network is freaking the fuck out!”

Shit, the last thing I need is Nejire-Chan or Lemillion to show up and shit on this entire operation. “And what is Lemillion’s status on the Network?”

“Inactive.”

THAT’S NOT REASSURING AT ALL! “Set clocks, 6 minutes.”

Just as the Manticore set his watch, he noticed a pair of people sprinting from the corner of his eye. Looking up, he noticed a frazzled Himiko Toga and a completely torn-up-looking Dabi trudging along the street, hugging the wall to keep a low profile. Both of them were trembling, smoking, and exhausted…

He quickly grabbed the grip of his sniper rifle and pointed in the direction of the two villains. He quickly identified Toga through the scope but paused. He then trained his sights on Dabi. Mastodon-sensei’s words echo in his mind. ‘ Always go for the biggest threat first, even if they are half dead or missing an arm.’

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Hold…

Dabi falters, causing Himiko to run ahead of him without realizing. 

Hold…

He lights a flame to cauterize the bleeding stump by his shoulder.

Hold…

Dabi lets out a deep breath as he resumes his escape-

Pull it-

BANG!

End of Chapter 5

[Ending Song: Savior – By Rise Against]

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 6: For the Inverted Cross

Pull it-

BANG!

May 1st, 2212
Musutafu, Japan

Patrick Bates sucks at comforting people. He may be labeled as a “hero,” but he is not delusional to think he is, or ever will be, someone that people will look up to in their darkest moment, a shining beacon of righteous light in the darkness… Because he is that darkness. The ugly underworld of heroics that keeps the foulest of monsters in check, to put them in the ground without so much of a second thought. The darkness that keeps all files on him blacked out. Blackout Heroics is the name of his game. That’s why he leaves comforting others to his wife, she’s the best at it after all. 

But right now, she is not here. Right now he is wearing a suit, a tie, and a mask of humanity as he watches the poor boy sitting despondently in a chair, refusing to look at the man in front of him as he rambled on, instead opting to stare blankly at a grey headband adorning cat ears.

“The total amount of money that will be transferred into this trust fund totals to around a full three-billion-yen, wow look at you.” The man wearing the ugliest purple three-piece suit chuckled to himself. That shit probably smells like tobacco smoke… Only to mutter something under his breath when the kid didn’t so much as react.

Three billion yen is nothing to scoff at, that’s at least a cool twenty million US dollars. So for a child to be so utterly broken that the prospect of money isn’t able to get a reaction out of them is… concerning, to say the least. To be so young and having to say goodbye to your mother would do that to anyone. Patrick was lucky. He had buried his mother just a few years ago after she had lived life, she passed peacefully surrounded by her family rather than dying broken and alone in the ruins of a city.

He should be so lucky to die peacefully himself.

“Oh, and she left this box.” The silver-haired man said as he haphazard dropped a large, black box on the table right next to the grieving child. “She didn’t say what it is, but that is none of my business.”

The man then turned back to the kid reaching his arm out as if to ruffle his forest green curls, only to pause before opting to pat the boy on the shoulder instead. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

The man turned around, walking right passed Patrick without so much as a glance. 

What a weird dude… Patrick mused as he turned to approach the green-haired boy, only to widen his eyes as he realized the boy was already staring at him. Dull green eyes surrounded by red rings from crying for so long gazed at him in apathy. That… never happened before. Patrick is usually not one to get noticed on a whim, at all.

As if the kid was a threat, to begin with. Barely any meat on his bones, he’s probably so light he could grab him by the scruff and heave him up with ease. I wonder if had eaten at all today…

Patrick carefully took a step forward, just as the kid looked back onto the ground, refusing to meet the American man in the eyes. The man then decided to kneel below the grieving boy’s eye level so he wouldn’t have to crane his neck to look up at him. The poor boy needed the rest. He noted that the freckled boy was gripping at a pair of dark grey cat ears. The same ones Inko wore when…

“Hello Izuku, my name is Patrick Bates. I was a friend of your mom” Patrick started, watching as the boy’s dull eye momentarily glinted in recognition before fading away again. “She contacted me quite a while ago, talking about how you wanted to be a hero, but that you’re quirkless.”

Perhaps being so blunt is not the best approach to consoling a child, but it’s the only way he knows how. The boy did not react, so he kept going. “What if I told you there is still a way to become a hero despite it?”

Now that got the boy’s attention. Green finally meets light brown as Izuku’s brows twitch ever so slightly.

“How…” Izuku cleared his throat, as it was all dry and hoarse from many hours of grieving. “How would you know?”

“Because… I’m quirkless too.”

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

Himiko couldn’t hear anything. Everything was muffled, buried under the low droning ringing, and her erratic heartbeat pulsated in her ears. Her sight was fuzzy, and there were black spots from the bright flash of light that accompanied the huge explosion that knocked her silly, tore Dabi’s arm off, and killed Compress.

Shit.

Compress…

Tears stung her eyes, and her nose burned as a sob tried to rack its way through her body. But Himiko couldn’t stop now, not when she had someone to kill, to see the light drain from their eyes as she slits open their throat, cut their femoral arteries, slash their wrist until they drown in an ocean of their own blood.

For everyone who died.

Compress.

Spinner.

Shiggy.

Big Sis Magne.

Jin-

BOOM!

Even with the tinnitus muting out everything around her, she heard the hypersonic pop of a small explosion behind. The entire block lit up in a flash of light, and as she turned around, it was like she was seeing in slow motion.

Sparks flying everywhere. It was like a firework went off right behind her. But right behind her was… was…

In the middle of the blast, there was nothing.

Nothing except for the pair of legs flailing in the air without a body attached to it.

Himiko’s eyes widened as the legs fell unceremoniously onto the ground with a wet slap, crimson blood splattered all over the wall, and onto the concrete. It smelled of ash and metal. Looking at the wall she noticed that there was a chunk of chard flesh embedded into the wall. It had teeth and staples still attached to it…

She felt sick.

She…

…

Dabi was right behind me just a second ago…

“Dabi?” She whispered at the bisected, incinerated body in front of her… Expecting it to answer. Expecting this to be all just a bad dream. She grits her teeth as tears finally begin to stream down her face as she finally lets out an agonizing, blood-curdling scream.

“DABI!”

“Dabi is down.” The Manticore whispered, letting out a sigh of relief as he quickly unlatches the sniper, pulling back the bolt which immediately ejected a smoking .50 BMG cartridge, clattering on the ground with a light-hearted ping, as if it hadn’t just vaporized the top half of the Cremation Villain’s body. He quickly grabbed another volatile-tipped bullet and slit it into the loading chamber. “And now, Toga…”

He slid the bolt closed-

TUCK!

His heart suddenly jumped to his throat.

“Shit…”

The Blackout Hero cautiously slid the bolt back before trying to push it forward again, only to jam yet again. “SHIT!”

The thing about the BFG-50 is that despite its ability to punch a cannonball-sized hole into the side of any target, whether it be mechanical or organic, from miles away, it malfunctions more than a 2198 Nissan Crawler. And the Manticore had just loaded a highly explosive round into its chamber. If he is not cautious, the entire sniper will explode in his face. He would be incredibly lucky to walk away only blind in one eye…

Himiko was on her knees, clutching her chest as she stared at the splatter on the wall that was once Dabi. So many emotions swirled around in her head. She wanted to cry, to drag her nails across the concrete until they broke off, to scream until her voice was completely shot…

She is alone again… Everyone she loved, everyone who cared for her like family is gone, killed by the society who cast them all out, and threw them away like they were garbage. When the League was still the League, she felt like nothing could take the feeling of freedom away from her. Until they began dying off one by one. After Shiggy’s death, she latched onto Dabi and Compress and never wanted to let them go. And in just a matter of minutes, they left her too…

Heh… A sudden huff bubbled from Himiko’s throat. She tried to hold her breath, hunching over as tears dripped from her cheeks to the concrete. Hehehe…

She can’t stop herself. Heheheha… haha. HAHAHA!

Why am I laughing? Why… HAHAHA! Her laugh was no longer high-pitched, nor feigned innocence. They are now screams of years of hatred and agony as she finally breached her breaking point. WHY CAN’T I JUST BE HAPPY? TO LIVE THE WAY I WANT TO? WHY CAN’T I JUST BE ME WITHOUT OTHER PEOPLE JUDGING ME, HATING ME FOR WHAT I CAN’T CONTROL.

Tomura was right! We should have destroyed everything when we had the chance. But no, I thought people could change. Himiko finally lifted herself from the ground, wiping away the tears in her eyes. But people will never change… So why should I?

The ringing in her ears finally faded away, but everything still seemed a bit muffled.

Himiko wiped away the last of her tears, and as her vision refocused, she noticed the faintest glint of light flickering from the corner of her eye from the top of a nearby building. She turned her head to get a better look at the small glint staring back at her. What is…

CLICK! “YES!”

The charging bolt finally loaded successfully without blowing up in his face. He quickly aimed his sniper at Toga who was now looking directly at him.

“Smile for me you-” BANG!

A flash suddenly accompanied the white glint. The hairs on the back of Himiko’s neck suddenly stood on end and her eyes widened. Out of pure instinct, she springboarded upwards, just as a glowing, white-hot projectile blasted past her at top speeds.

BOOM!

Another blinding flash lit up the previously dim lot. Orange sparks exploded out from a trashcan that was unfortunately in the trajectory of the tracer, raining on her as she fell.

Her feet made landfall, but her equilibrium was still completely out of sync due to getting her bell rung from the warehouse exploding, so she stumbled and rolled backward. Himiko sat up and looked at the absolute state of the trashcan that took the hit. Her eyes widened when she realized that the entire metal container was in pieces of melting shrapnel. Take the time to imagine what it did to Dabi when he faltered for just a moment.

She snarled, bearing her fangs and her reflective yellow eyes narrow. She quickly stumbled to stand up and run away from the sniper’s range. Once I get my fucking fangs on you, I will find your family, everyone you love will die! Including your kids, pets, and every single cockroach that you have associated with! Every single one of them, DEAD!

How fast can you run?

Because today is the last day anyone will remember you.

Damnatio Memoriae

“GODDAMNIT!” The Manticore screamed, punching the hard concrete below him as he hauled himself up. “Himiko Toga is on the run!”

“I’m in pursuit!” Apollyon replied.

“NO! You stay the fuck back,” The senior Blackout Hero screamed as he rapidly grabbed his sheathed tanto and Streetsweeper Shotgun, pulling down his mask to cover his entire face. “This bitch is MINE!”

The Manticore then stepped off the edge of the building and fell forward, feet stabilizing the side of the building. The Blackout Hero soon began to rapidly descend the side of the building in an Australian Rappel form, He then severed his rappel gear off of himself using his tanto before sprinting down the avenue chasing after the blonde slasher.

“Cernunnos, how much time left?”

“4:50, sensei!”

Without responding he began to pump his legs faster until all his peripheral vision began to blur from the speed. Toga may be fast in her own right, but her lack of balance is impeding her coordination, so her running form is sloppy. It won't take long for the Manticore to catch up to her.

Noticing this, the last member of the PLF knocked over some trash cans to interrupt the Blackout Hero’s flow, only to suck in her teeth as the Manticore jumped over it with an impressive leap, clearing the obstacle without even breaking his stride. She used her cat-like agility to cut around tight corners, but even then, her form was not perfect, sliding and slamming shoulder-first into a brick wall before shooting down an alleyway. If she was going to be forced to engage in a fight, might as well do it in a confined space with limited exits.

The Manticore also made a sharp turn, but more elegantly than Toga, and sprinted directly toward her. The villainess finally turned around completely for the first time in the pursuit, arm reared back behind her head holding the tip of one of her razor-sharp throwing knives. Take THIS!

The throwing knife shot out of her hand, making a beeline straight for the Manticore, who quickly spun to the left to dodge it, only for him to bump his shoulder into the wall before he could complete his rotation! Shit-

His right arm quickly grabbed the handle of his tanto, expertly pulling it out to immediately parry the knife thrust aimed at his abdomen. He pushed Toga back before she lunged at him again with a feint to his abdomen. The Manticore lowered his tanto to block only to swing his arms upwards to block the real strike aimed at his dome.The blonde slasher pushed downward on the butt of her knife in an attempt to gouge the Manticore’s eye out, and when her struggling began to fail, she decided to strike where it would hurt him the most.

Immediately her leg reeled back, tapping the front of her foot twice on the concrete, a blade then protruded out from under the toes. Her now-bladed foot launched upwards directing into the Manticore’s crotch. However, much to Toga’s surprise, the Blackout Hero was able to twist himself away from the low blow while simultaneously keeping her knife up. In her confusion, the blonde did not realize she was in the process of getting judo thrown until she was already in midair.

WHAM!

Toga wheezed as the impact knocked all the air in her lungs. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire as it was in the crux of the slam, and with her being completely winded she was not able to find her voice to scream. Instead, what came out was more of a high-pitched choking sound. Tears welled up in her eyes, but before she could blink them away, the blurry bottom of the murderous hero’s black boot came crashing down. Mustering all of her strength and pushing away the pain of her shoulder into the deepest depths of her psyche, she rolled to the right-

BAM!

Dust is kicked up just as his foot hits the ground. Toga whined as she got up with some difficulty as her left didn’t seem to be functioning at all. When she finally stood up, she realized her entire clavicle was nearly protruding out of her skin.

“Woah!” She gasped as she quickly grabbed her left wrist and yanked her entire arm to the opposite side of her body, the dislocated bone slipping back somewhere close to its proper place with a muffled pop!

As the adrenaline kept the pain in check, she watched as the cloud of dirt began to settle down, revealing the kneeling figure of the Manticore. Toga’s eyes widened as she realized the concrete under him was cracked slightly. Had I been half a second slower…

This time, it was Manticore’s turn to lunge at the villainess, and it was then Toga realized that she dropped her knife when she was slammed, and now she was completely unarmed. She put both of her arms up to guard a kick aimed at the side of her abdomen. Even if her defenses cushioned the blow, the sheer strength of the Manticore still sent shockwaves through her body. 

And it didn’t help that he was also wearing steel toes.

The adrenaline could only do so much for her as the Blackout Hero let out a relentless barrage of kicks and punches too fast and too precise for her to dodge. So, she had to opt to tank each hit with as much defense as she could perform.

A kick to her abdomen cracked at least one of her ribs.

A weight began to form in her gut. One that she hasn’t experienced in a while.

A punch into her arms pushed her back an impressive amount.

One she feels when she realizes she feels like a cornered animal cornered monster.

A series of kicks to her thigh begin to tear muscle from the bone when the adrenaline wears off eventually, she will feel the full effects of just standing.

When was the last time she felt this way? Feeling so helpless? So demoralized.

She jumped, grabbing hold of a fire escape, only to be grabbed by her ankle and thrown back down onto the concrete, this time rolling backward, standing back up to try to put on more of an offensive rather than ball up with only defense.

“Because everybody claims all they want is freedom, but what they want… is order.” 

She went for a high kick with her bladed shoe, but the Manticore pulled out his tanto again and blocked the attack.

Izuku… The last guy she slept with. But… Why?

She tried to kick him in the abdomen, but her bladed foot missed, only to crack against the alley’s wall, ruining the blade and causing it to fall out of her shoe.

Why did I run away like that? Is it because… was he going to kill me?

The Manticore’s tanto strike was redirected, embedding itself deep into the brick wall of the alley, just like Toga’s shoe blade. Impossible to pull it out without major damage to the blade. Toga smirked as she successfully disarmed the Blackout Hero, who clicked his tongue in annoyance at losing his last reliable melee weapon. But instead of trying to pull out the blade, he simply punched the handle as hard as he could, causing the blade to explode into glitter-like shards.

The blonde slasher’s eyes widened, but she was forced to shield herself from the razor-sharp shards, giving the Manticore the opening he so desperately needed.

3:30 left.

He ducked down below her waist and looked up, reeling his right arm back for an upward strike between her defenses. Her eyes glimmered with shock hidden between her arms and body, but she was too slow to react.

“You want blood you disgusting monster?” The Manticore roared before slamming the bottom of his palm into the chin of the blonde serial slasher with a sickening crunch. “Choke on your own…”

The woman staggered back, putting a hand over her mouth as copious amounts of blood seemed to just gush out without any signs of stopping. Lowering her hand from her face she noticed hard bits landing in her palm where most of her blood pooled. Two of them were particularly pointy bits.

Her eyes widened, and her mutilated tongue began to lick the copper-tasting rim of her mouth, feeling multiple stringy and swelling gaps between her teeth. Including both of her right canines…

The built-in instrument used to siphon blood from her victims was now broken and lying in the palm of her hand.

“We should have them pulled out. Maybe it will curve her craving for blood, and make her look less like a monster…” She remembers her bitch of a mother say when her quirk first came in.

Monster.

“You want blood you disgusting monster? ”

Monster?

Fucking M̵̪̑͒̿̓̍Ó̷̢̻̞́̓́̕N̴̤̥̜̜̋̄S̵͈͕̰̜̠̲̿̒͌͌̚T̷̼͝͝Ė̸͖̰̥̞͆R̷̲̉͂̇̇̕͝?̷̥̯͉̋̌̔ͅ

Monster. The one accolade of disgrace that has followed her throughout her entire life that she still defiantly denies ever being. Even as she joined the League, even as she destroyed Jaku, killed thousands, and drank the blood of hundreds, she was never a monster. At least to her. A murderer? Yes. Deranged? Oh absolutely. But a monster? No, to her she was just a girl trying to live her life.

But now… after losing everyone. Himiko Toga no longer cares.

She snarled as she backstepped strikes from the relentless Blackout Hero, finally gripping a vial of crimson liquid she reserved only for the direst of emergencies, one never to be used unless she wanted to lose the last piece of the person who cared about her the most.

Using it may lead to self-preservation tonight, even if it meant severing the last of her humanity.

You want to fight a monster so badly, huh? Fine…

She pulled out a vial of Jin Bubaigawara’s blood.

The Manticore missed a swipe to the hand holding the vial of blood, watching as Toga ingested a red liquid. In mere moments a viscous sludge overtook her body, and when he threw a solid kick in its center, it only passed through the remnants of the floating sludge. He snapped around, only to find Twice kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the same sludge as earlier, bleeding and crying through his ‘mask.’

“You don’ ‘ow wha’ you habe done…” An odd mix of a feminine and a raspy masculine voice growled through damaged teeth. “Shad Man’sh PARADED!”

SAD MAN’S PARADE!

Before the Manticore could even blink, dozens of Twice copies began to flood the alley all bearing down on the Blackout Hero without regard for their safety. Not that they needed it, nor did they care. All they had was one goal in mind, and that was killing him.

In his years of research, study, and exploration, Twice’s quirk copy was one of the only quirks Izuku knew of to have gone from a Dark Class to a Nuclear Class level threat. The villain making unlimited clones of himself, and those clones making unlimited clones of themselves with capabilities of replicating the quirks of other villains he copied cemented Twice as the second most powerful member of the League and the PLF, just behind Shigaraki himself. Was it any wonder why Hawks had to put him down for good…

And now that same quirk, even if scaled back due to the limited potential of Himiko Toga’s Transform, is crashing down on him.

Eventually, it will have the capability to flood the entire city.

3:00 left.

His Streetsweeper Shotgun found itself in his hands as he began to fire slug rounds into the apex of the clone crowd.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

They keep coming!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

No signs of it slowing down!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

They won’t stop!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Click- Empty.

“SHIT!” The Manticore screamed as he realized his shotgun was empty, and it would be too time-consuming to load even without the danger of being crushed by a wave of clones.

Time slowed down as the tidal wave of men adorned in grey and white body suits finally reached its crest, ready to drop on him-

“SURFACE SPLASH!” A sudden torrent of water slammed down onto the Twice clones with such force that it shredded the entire wave, tearing apart the sludge and scattering the remaining, still multiplying clones throughout the alley.

The Manticore knew that voice and looked up to the top of the alley.

“Ko- TICONDEROGA!”

“I’LL DEAL WITH THESE CLONES! YOU GO GET THE BITCH! SHE’S MAKING A RUN FOR IT UP THE STREET.” The balaclava-wearing man barked out.

The Manticore didn’t need to be told twice as he shot down the alley, but not before cleaning the clock of a clone that was trying to stand back up, turning its head and by extension its entire body into sludge.

Clones began to pursue the veteran Blackout Hero, but a second Surface Splash from Ticonderoga halted them in their tracks. He jumped down into the alley, with rings of water surrounding him looking around at the still multiplying clones with an all too wide smile under his mask.

Shit, shit, SHIT! Himiko Toga struggled to keep a hold of her form as she limped down the road, leaning against a wall for support, her left arm clutching her violently throbbing side. The adrenaline began to wear off, making her feel every injury she sustained from the confrontation with the Manticore.

A dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, fractured arms, muscle tears all up and down her thighs, broken teeth, and destroyed gums, with a possibly cracked jawbone. The amount of blood she is losing now will soon mean she will lose her transformation from pure blood loss. All I need to do now is lose him and go to a doctor. I-

She froze as she felt the air pressure suddenly skyrocket. A suffocating presence breathed down her neck, more so than the blood that she was actively breathing in. She slowly turned to see what was behind her. And across the street, illuminated by the yellow glow of a single streetlight stood the Manticore…

Oh, you have got… to be FUCKING KIDDING!

“Why…” She whispered loudly. The Manticore immediately shot toward her as he noticed the sludge beginning to build up behind her. “ WHY WON’ YOU JUS’ DIE!”

In one last act of desperation, she tried to scratch him in the throat with her sharp nails. However, he ducked and slid his right leg out. He put his left hand onto the ground, and using it as a fulcrum, sprung his legs up. The entire mass of his anatomy was compacted into his leg and with one last vicious heave, slammed his foot directly into the chest of Himiko Toga. Instantly she was sent flying across the sidewalk into the glass window of a business.

CRASH!

Instantly thousands of shards of glass litter cuts throughout her body. She gasped for air, but she could do nothing but vomit blood immediately. The kick by the Manticore dislodged one of her broken ribs directly into the right lung, filling it with both her blood. The grey sludge began to liquify and melt off her body revealing naked pale skin.

The Manticore slowly walked up to the shattered window, carefully stepping over the pane as he approached the prone villainess, who was desperately trying to crawl away, leaving a thick trail of smeared blood behind her.

I… I need to get away. Her mind was extremely cloudy, and her vision was covered in black spots as she tried to drag herself away from the monster that was behind her. Each heave caused the fragments of glass to dig deeper into her body. Her chest, her stomach, both her arms, both her legs were now Jackson Pollocks of cuts and blood. I need to get away. I need to get away. Ineedtogetaway. Ineedtogetaway. Ineedtogetaway! INEEDTOGETAWAY!

The Manticore didn’t allow her.

He grabbed her by the ankle and hauled her backward, through the pile of glass, and then spun her around to slam her into a wall. She landed limply, finally too exhausted, and far too much in agony to move. Staring blankly at her executioner.

2:15 left.

“You are alone now, Himiko Toga.” The Manticore said as he approached her like a feline stalking its prey. “Since the very beginning, the road you took would lead only to your death, to the death of those whom you cared for the most. You and your family that you made for yourself are only the beginning…”

The Manticore reached to the top of his mask and slowly lifted it off his face revealing a face filled with freckles and dull green eyes staring at her with disdain. Himiko’s eyes widened into saucers when she realized who was behind that mask. No…

Izuku Midoriya. The man whom she last had sex with, the man who didn’t flinch at the prospect of being bled out like a pig, the man who instilled so much terror into Himiko’s heart that she couldn’t go through with killing him.

The one who got away came back to kill her.

The one who got away came back and killed Dabi and Compress.

Her eyes welled up with tears. Maybe if she had stuck her knife into his throat like she originally intended to… maybe they’d still be alive. But no. They're gone forever, and it was her fault.

“Remember me?” He asked as he pulled out a pistol from its holster. The Colt M1911 chambered in .40 caliber Smith and Wesson hollow point, used for inflicting as much suffering as possible on its victims. His preferred instrument of execution. “You know what I remember? Someone once told me ‘A person truly shows who they are when they know they are about to die.' And then I asked who I was looking at. The commander of the Carmine Regiment or a little girl, spit up and chewed out by society? At that time, yeah, you were the villain so many rightful were afraid of. Eaten out with jealousy and envy, longing to take the place in the life of others. But all I see now is the scared, lost little girl hated and pushed away by society because of something she couldn't control.”

By now Himiko was weeping while simultaneously hacking up what remains of her lung. The Manticore aimed his pistol at the woman, pulling the priming hammer back with an audible click.

“The truth is, Himiko Toga… I never cared for that little girl either.”

He put his finger on the trigger.

Toga’s expression turned panicked. Before turning her head away from the Manticore. Only being able to let out one last desperate shriek.

“N- NO!”

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.

Himiko Toga laid still. The back of her head was now split wide open. Blonde hair turned a dark crimson, and red chunks of flesh began to ooze out, spilling onto the floor. The Manticore took a glance out of the window making sure there was no one in the vicinity to see him, the muzzle of the gun never leaving the corpse’s direction. Soon he ejected the empty mag, slid in a new one, and pulled the side back to chamber a new round-

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.

…

“Hello?” The Manticore called out to everyone in the world, and to no one at the same time. “Hellooooo? I just shot someone, and I did it on purpose!”

There was no response. He checked his watch.

“Manticore, this is Ticonderoga!” The Blackout Hero’s comm buzzed to life. “The clones all disappeared at once, I assume you got Toga?”

“Manticore to Ticonderoga, Himiko Toga is E-KIA. Send again: target is E-KIA.” The Manticore let out a sigh. “Apollyon, send the confirmation to O5. Let them know the PLF is now extinct, over.”

“Copy that.” She responded.

“Cernunnos to Manticore, we got cops and heroes incoming, ETA, 30 seconds before the window closes.”

Crap. The Manticore thought. He reached for his tanto but remembered it broke during the fight against Toga. So, thinking quickly on his feet, he ducked down and grabbed a sizable shard of glass before reaching Toga’s bullet-riddled corpse, pressing the sharpest edge of the glass into her skin.

Though jagged, it was a necessary calling card. A message to those foolish enough to wish to follow in his victims’ footsteps.

The inverted cross.

“MANTICORE?” His disciple’s voice became increasingly desperate.

“Bugging out now! Everyone RTB of debrief.”

“Yes sir!”

RING, RING, RING.

Ochako groaned. Go away…

RING, RING, RING.

The heroine pried her face away from her pillow as she glared at the direction of her phone.

RING, RING, RING.

Well, it’s not going to stop on its own.

With another exhausted moan, she rolled herself out of her cloud-soft queen-sized bed and lumbered over to the nightstand where her phone sat.

RING, RING, RING.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” She yawned as she looked at the caller ID.

Ochako frowned when it read, ‘Mino ☂️.’ Why would Minoru be calling me at… 4:10, Jesus…

The Anti-Gravity Rescue Heroine decided to accept the call anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey um… Ochako…” The way Minoru was talking immediately made the brunette's stomach twist. “You might want to sit down. I have some news.”

“Minoru what’s going on? You’re making me nervous…”

“I’ll tell you, but you need to sit down first.”

Ochako didn’t respond. Instead, she pressed her lips together into a thin, if trembling, line and sat down at the foot of her bed. “Okay, I am sitting down. What is it?”

Pluton let out an exhale. “… There was a massive explosion near Kamino Ward. When we went to investigate, I found a window smashed window with blood dripping from the sill. When I looked in, I found a dead body.”

The King of Underground Heroics looked at the badly mutilated upper torso of a cut-up naked woman, with a head of ruined, scarlet-soaked blond hair barely hanging onto the rest of the head. It was sickening, like the three men who were hanged in Musutafu last month. The fact that police were able to ID the body despite the face being swollen and tattered beyond recognition was astonishing to him. “Himiko Toga’s dead body.”

…

…

…

“Oh.” She immediately ended the call.

She sat in her pitch-black room, the only sound being a droning ringing in her ears. Slowly she laid her back onto her mattress never bothering to move her legs into a more comfortable position, nor moving a pillow to support her head and neck as she stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars that covered her ceiling. A gift from her father when she moved out.

She stared.

Just stared. She was too exhausted to go back to bed.

She didn’t know if she did end up falling asleep where she lay.

But eventually, her alarm clock went off.

She turned her head and realized that the sun was peeking out from the horizon.

…

18 years…

18 years of trying to get through to the one villain who needed help more than anyone else in the world…

Gone.

She didn’t cry. It was just another facet of the life of heroics.

If sobs did echo throughout her empty house (Tsu won’t be back for a couple more days,) only God would know.

Something is off…

The Number 3 Hero, Frost Fire thought to himself as he walked through the doors of his agency. Everyone he passed by on his way up to his office seemed to look at him with varying levels of apprehension as if he were a ticking time bomb. As if he was like his father before he decided to better himself.

Usually, the stares wouldn’t bother him, just another facet of being a world-renowned hero. However, the number of stares, coupled with their expressions and the fact that his employees are looking at him like that (he promised them he wouldn’t instill fear in them with just his presence like this father did when he was running this agency) is becoming disconcerting.

He continued, nonetheless. After a quick ride to the top of the building in the elevator, he marches toward his office. However, he didn’t expect it to be already inhabited. Standing around his desk was his wife, Momo, who turned to look at him with an alarmed expression. Next to her was his Chief of Sidekicks, Burnin, sitting unabashedly on his desk wearing a serious expression, one that he was not used to seeing on her. Next to her was a crocodilian heteromorph man with dark green, scaly skin, Ago Geta, aka the Deputy Chief of Staff, Crocojaw. Finally next to the crocodilian hero was a woman with short black hair with purple tips and large, buggy purple eyes. Shinobu Kocho aka Secretary of the Frost Fire Agency, the Wisteria Hero: Fujicho.

…

Both parties just stare at each other awkwardly…

After a few more moments, Shoto has enough and gestures at the other four heroes. 

“Okay,” The two-toned hero finally asked as his frustration began to rise. “What is going on?”

Momo was about to open her mouth to respond when the Deputy of Sidekicks beat her to the punch. “Jesus, how can someone have so much money but can’t pay their fucking cable bill? Have you not seen the news recently?”

“MOE!” Ago gasped in shock at the flame-haired woman’s brash response to her boss.

“What?” Shoto’s eyes furrowed in confusion before turning to his wife. “Momo, what’s going on?”

“You haven’t seen the news?” She asked meekly, wringing her hands together in fear… (He promised his mother that he would never make Momo afraid of him…)

He inhaled sharply… “What news?”

“Todoroki-sama,” Shinobu alerted the Number 3 pro hero to her presence, reaching up to give him her phone, which displayed a paused video of a newscast.

Shoto grabbed the phone from his secretary's hand and pressed play.

“Breaking News coming to you from Yokohama. Officials have confirmed the deaths of villains and former elite commanders of the Paranormal Liberation Front: Himiko Toga and Touya Todoroki, aka the Cremation Villain: Dabi at 4 o’clock this morning, following a massive explosion in its Industrial District. Police and the Hero Public Safety-” The rest was just white noise to Shoto.

He blinked, letting go of the breath he had been holding. He gave the phone back to his secretary who quickly backed away from the sudden fluctuation in temperature.

His eyes became unfocused for a few moments as his brain desperately tried to claw its way back to some semblance of consciousness.

His ears were ringing.

He can feel his heart pound violently in his chest.

It’s so hot-

It’s so cold-

Where’s the temperature?

Why is it neither hot nor cold?

“SHOTO!” He could just barely hear Momo desperately scream out.

When his vision finally cleared up, Momo, Moe, Ago, and Shinobu were packed tightly into a corner covered in a fire-resistant blanket that was covered in frostbite and scorch marks, all of them shivering and sweating… They were covered in frost and angery, red burns. Shoto looked around his office only to find one half completely encased in ice and the other completely incinerated.

His throat constricted on instinct when he felt bile crawling up his throat. (He promised to never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.)

“I- Uh…” Shoto tried to speak between gags, but his mouth failed him. Finally, his feet began to move on their own back out through the door and into the elevators “Shit…”

He couldn’t remember which direction he went or if his quirk went haywire again. All he knows now is that he is in front of a cabinet adorned with flowers. He stared at it. And after what seemed like hours, he did something he never thought he’d do in his entire life. No matter how much he hated him, no matter how much he cursed his name, no matter how many nights he burned trash like an effigy of his character.

“I am sorry…” He choked out as tears began to flow down his face. “I couldn’t avenge you…”

For the first time in his life, he got down onto his hands and knees and put his forehead down into a dogeza , in front of the funeral portrait of Enji Todoroki.

“So…” O5-7, the Parasite, started as he nervously tapped his pencil on the conference table, refusing to look at the man who sat at the very end of it. “It’s done?”

“Yup.” The Manticore leisurely responded. His feet were resting on the table and his face was completely uncovered except for the pair of aviators that he wears as the Sphinx covering his green eyes.

“… the Paranormal Liberation Front is now completely extinct?” O5-11, the Magnet, asked as she tried to maintain eye contact with the green-haired man as well.

“You’re welcome!” He replied unabashedly.

“Manticore…” O5-1, the Overlord, being one of the two members of the O5 Council brave enough to not be bothered by the air of death surrounding the Blackout Hero said with a flat look on his face. “You are sure you have positive confirmation that all three are dead, yes?”

“I think the three bodies that can only be identified by their dental records speak for themselves. But if you are still not convinced…” He reached down and grabbed a manilla envelope. He tore the flap open and threw it onto the conference table spilling its contents for all the O5 Council members to see. He smiled. “I brought photographic proof!”

“Oh my God…”

“What the hell…”

“This is… hurk! ”

“Where did you even get these?” O5-5, The Rain, asked as he looked at the photo of Dabi’s decimated body laid out on a medical examiner’s table, the smaller pieces of flesh and bone arranged in a vaguely humanoid shape.

“Takahiro Hayasaka subpoenaed it from the investigators when the PHYSICS Division. Let me tell you, they were not happy. Wait until Frost Fire learns about this.” The Manticore giggled to himself as he leaned farther back into his chair.

O5-12, The Denizen, stood up enraged at the Manticore’s callousness. “What did I tell you, Overlord? The Manticore is not a man, he is a fucking lunatic!”

“Denizen, I understand your frustration…”

“Do you? Are you truly capable of understanding? We brought him here under the pretense that he would permanently get rid of the PLF. And what does he do? The first, first , month he already deviated from his mission and executed three men who were not connected in any way to this operation. Then he goes and murders the only man who could get a direct connection to the members of the PLF, putting more heat on the PHYSICS division in the process. And commits a major amount of property damage just to get them running. He causes destruction wherever he goes! He does not flinch at torture, desecration, or genocide-”

“Ugh, ‘empathetic’ bureaucrats…” The Manticore drawled to himself as he stared at the ceiling and listened to the O5 Council Member’s rant, causing her to scoff.

“Are you even paying attention?”

“Oh, I am.” The Blackout Hero bit back, causing O5-12 and most of the other members of the council to flinch at her error of antagonizing the most dangerous person in the room. “Unfortunately, the old, wasted bag of flesh that was speaking is only a few flowerpots away from becoming a vegetable. So let me reiterate what a Blackout Hero is and why I am here because you seem to have forgotten…”

The Manticore stood up and began to pace around the conference room, like a predator taunting its cornered prey, much to the terror of the council.

“You seem to have the impression that I am the last resort against those who threaten peace. I am not. I am an executioner. Hero society hates it when their glorious symbols of virtue have to do what is necessary to keep them safe, look at the mess that had been spawned in Kamino Ward when All Might had to put All For One in the ground permanently!  If a hero isn't willing to get their hands dirty in the name of protecting the people, then they're not a hero. They're just clowns with a cape. And it is so unfortunate that so many more heroes died to suicide than the wars themselves because they couldn’t deal with the social consequences of having to take lives in the name of restoring peace! It was a war, and war will never change. Peace and Freedom are not sought after. They are enforced!” He grips O5-12 on the shoulder as he continues his spiel, causing the woman to begin trembling, sweating bullets. She gave a terrified glance at Aizawa, who only stared back with a bored expression. “That’s where the Blackout Heroes come in. We are faceless, we are the unknown. We are the ones who keep blood from staining the reputations of heroes around the globe by taking the responsibility of killing the villains. You can’t criticize a Blackout Hero; you can’t offend them by calling them crazy. Because the only way to survive as one is to be crazier than the villains we slaughter. We have done things for humanity that would have disgusted Shigaraki. So once again: I am the Manticore, and I can do whatever the fuck I need to do to win!”

He finally let go of the council member’s shoulder before skulking off, kicking the conference room door open as he made his exit. The Eraser and the Overlord both stood from their chairs to follow. The walk through the empty corridors was a quiet affair. Neither Aizawa nor Nezu could find the voice to talk to the Manticore after his rant. So, the Manticore did it for them. “The mission is done. Now I need to ask the question that should have been asked back there… What now?”

“Now?” Nezu hummed absentmindedly, almost as if he were asking the same question. He blinked a few times before his small, vacant smile returned to his face. “Ah, now… You rest!”

“Rest?” He asked incredulously.

“By rest, O5-1 means that you will stay here as an inactive operative for at minimum 3 years,” Aizawa added, causing Midoriya’s jaw to drop in a comical fashion unbecoming of a psychotic, sanctioned killer.

“HUH?”

“In case you forgot, we gave you a job at UA as a cover for the sudden end to your self-imposed exile from Japan after the Anato Incident.” Aizawa groaned as the wrinkles in his face became more pronounced from the sheer exhaustion of trying to communicate with the likes of the Izuku Midoriya.

“Oh. Righhhhhht…” Izuku responded as he suddenly remembered the hundreds of ungraded assignments he had sitting on his desk due to him putting them off to focus more of his attention on the operation. “After abandoning my family and friends for five years, a little temporary retirement wouldn’t be too bad. I mean the mission is over so… Yeah… Yeah! After over twenty years of doing this, a little rest wouldn’t hurt!”

“I don’t know. Taking a break when you are in your prime is quite a difficult task. Hell, when I broke almost every bone in my body during the attack on the USJ, I was back on my feet in less than a few days, and back on regularly scheduled duty after a couple of weeks. And that was a medically required leave. A willing one will take much more patience.” The former Eraser Hero turned to the green-haired man who was busy rubbing his nose with his gloved palm. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Midoriya?”

“With all due respect, Aizawa, I lived through unparallel horror deep inside enemy lines more often than the most elite Blackout Heroes, barring a few, are comfortable with. The Wars, Dresden, Himachal Pradesh, Ordos. I don’t think a break would kill me.” He smiled before turning and walking away from the only O5 Council members he respects, raising his hand and putting up the peace sign half-heartedly. “To peace in our time!”

March 14th, 2233 (Thursday)

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Izuku Midoriya gasped awake as the loud digital alarm clock beeped loudly into his ear. He turned his head to get a good look at what time it was and read ‘4:45 AM’ on the screen. He groaned as he reached to press the large button on top, abruptly silencing the device. He sits up and swings his legs to the side, standing up to prepare for his day. Putting on workout clothes he stepped out into the cold dawn, the sun had yet to make its full appearance, blanketing the entire landscape in a cold light. He jogged nearly three kilometers before returning to his apartment.

A quick shower and breakfast later, the cat-eared man went into the closet to grab his Sphinx uniform, only to find the Manticore mask staring back at him. He blinked a couple of times, only to shake his head and grab his black baseball cap.

In between classes, he graded assignments in the darkness of the teacher’s lounge, the only source of light being a small desk lamp that shined down on the paper in front of him. The darkness was something he was quite familiar with and served as a great way to hide any sort of distractions. However, that was taken away from him with Chargebolt, Minerva, and Mt. Lady walked in, all of whom yelped in surprise upon seeing an annoyed Sphinx.

After classes he went to a local sidewalk restaurant to eat a meal by his lonesome, trying to fill that pit in his stomach that he couldn’t explain. Neither the food nor the sake given to him filled it, so he gave up, paying for his food and walking home.

He returned to his cold, empty apartment. Finally, at 10:30 PM he slowly laid down, closing his eyes, and going to sleep.

March 15th, 2233 (Friday)

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Izuku opened his eyes as the loud digital alarm clock beeped loudly into his ear. He groaned as he reached to press the large button on top, abruptly silencing the device. He sits up and swings his legs to the side, standing up to prepare for his day.

He opened his drawer to grab one of his various jogging sweaters, but doing so revealed a whole handgun. While on autopilot, he took the empty gun in an attempt to put it in a holster, only to realize that he had no holster equipped. He clicks his tongue as he remembers his orders to rest, putting the gun back into his drawer before slamming it shut.

In the middle of one of his lectures, his phone went off. Answering his phone he heard the voice of his adoptive mother, Tomoko, alerting him to an emergency in the mountains. A group of hikers were lost, one of them being injured due to a fall. He canceled the rest of class and ran out of UA like a bat out of hell, he meets up with the other members of the Wild, Wild Pussycats where he and Ragdoll both use a series of Shield Tech drones to locate the hikers and get a chart of their condition.

Two females, and one young male. The latter of which suffered a compound fracture in his right leg. Once the rest of the Wild, Wild Pussycats located the trio, they were able to conduct triage, treat the wounded man, and transport them to safety.

Exhausted by the length of the mission, he trudged back to his apartment where he peeled his suit off and took a quick shower. He struggled to eat his dinner as the pit in his gut seemed to get larger, and heavier.

He lay in bed, much more exhausted than he was before, which was odd. Rarely did he feel like this ever, not even during his missions as the Manticore…

…

…

…

He closed his eyes, believing some sleep would help with both the exhaustion and his stomach.

It didn’t.

March 16th, 2233 (Saturday)

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Izuku immediately sat up and slammed the palm of his hand down onto the alarm, causing the green display screen to blink multiple times before it settled back into its original state.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

The green-haired man huffed as he stared down at the tire he had been striking with a sledgehammer for the past few minutes. He didn’t know why he was doing this… but it felt right for some strange reason. Holding the hammer in both hands fully intended on striking just came far too naturally to him. The pit in his stomach that had been a recurring nuisance to him for so long was nowhere to be found. He struck. And struck. He smiled when he raised the hammer above his head and swung down-

Only to see the trembling form of a man a villain with a burlap sack over their head where the tire once was.

Izuku’s eyes widened, trying his hardest to tense his muscles to stop the hammer from reaching its target. But it was too late! He had already committed to the swing!

WHAM!

The head of the hammer bounced off the tire with such force that a completely unprepared Izuku stumbled in shock. Tripping over his own two feet he fell back first onto the gym floor. He lay splayed out on the gym floor for a few moments, panting heavily. He craned his neck only to find that he was alone. No one else was there, no one had been struck. He leaned the back of his back down onto the cold, hard floor to let out a sigh.

The pit in his stomach had returned. 

Sitting alone at a dingy bar that was quite a distance away from Pops’s bar, he rested his entire face in both of his hands, not knowing what to do about his incredible sense of deprivation. Ever since he slaughtered the remnants of the PLF elites he felt like there was a massive piece of himself missing!

He licked his teeth in irritation as he reached into his pocket to pay for his tab, only for the barkeep to hand him another drink that he certainly did not order. Izuku looked up at the disinterested barkeeper, who only jutted his thumb out to the side before turning away to continue polishing the glass in his hand.

The green-haired man turned his head toward the direction given to him, only to find a woman staring at him only a few stools away from him, sipping from the same drink that was just given to him. She was tall, with long blond hair, wearing a pink bucket hat, white vest, and a tight-fitting strapless pink dress with such a low cut that left very little to the imagination.

It was blatantly clear that she was dressed to seduce, the wink from one of her pale green eyes only cemented her intentions to Izuku. The green-haired man didn’t immediately reply, only planting his elbow on the bar and resting his head on his fist, taking a sip from the fruity drink as he weighed his options.

March 17th, 2233 (Sunday)

Nothing. Absolutely nothing helped. The pit in Izuku’s stomach was now a groaning black hole of pure, unadulterated apathy. Even when he peeled off the woman’s (was her name Kujaku?) clothing, even when her teeth scraped against the skin of his neck and clavicle. Even when his fingers, and eventually his tongue slid into her. Even when her walls squeezed around him. He just felt so incredibly empty.

GODDAMN IT! Izuku screamed internally as he angrily tossed a rock into a creek, watching as it bounced pathetically before sinking into the creek. He sat down on a large stone to lament his place in the universe, to lament Aizawa’s words. “Taking a break when you are in your prime is quite a difficult task... A willing one will take much more patience…”

Izuku scoffed to himself as he rubbed small pebbles in between his fingers. What did I say to him afterward? ‘To peace in our time?’ In this world? What a fucking joke…

How stupid of me… I have been the Manticore for so long and finished my mission so fast that I completely forgot how to be “Izuku Midoriya.” The brief moments of humanity with my family, my coworkers, and the kids last a few hours at most. And when there is no one to witness me, I am back to being the boogeyman for boogeymen. I guess I am always destined to remain as the Manticore. No way in hell I could maintain a steady relationship with a woman long enough, let alone have a proper family. Because once they learn of what I have done… I highly doubt that anyone would be able to stand the sight of me.

Is this the legacy you wanted for me, Mom? He frowns. Is this really what I wanted for myself?

He sat in silence watching as the sun began to rise on the horizon, its warm rays made the creek shimmer like glitter. I wonder if… Kujaku? I wonder if she left by now… 

PING!

Izuku snapped out of his musings as he quickly fished his phone from his pocket, already forgetting about the woman. He had received a message. 

From Katsuki Bakugou of all people.

Katsuki Bakugou :
Yo, Deku

Mom and Pops want to have that dinner

Today!!

You down?

Queenie and Camie are coming too

How did he get my number? Was the first question that came to Izuku’s mind as he read the messages. However, he shook his head as he deeded the details irrelevant. He looked up from his phone to stare at the gradually brightening sky.

I guess… I guess this will be the perfect way to be Izuku again. They are the last things I truly have for a normal life before mom died… They’re as much of a family to me as Pussycats are. He stood up and threw another pebble at the creek, causing it to skip up on the surface of the water a couple of times before it finally settled, sinking into it. He allowed himself to smile for the first time in quite a while. He looked down at his phone to type out a single message:

SPHINX 🐱:
Sure!

End of Chapter 6

[Ending Song: Savior – By Rise Against]

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 7: Peace in Our Time? What a Joke…

May 11th, 2212
Musutafu, Japan

It’s Monday.

The day everyone dreaded as it meant the end of the weekend and the dawn of the new week. When everyone wakes up, has a peaceful breakfast, and spends most of their day at either school or work. Completely mundane except for the new adventures people try to look for even in the depths of boredom.

To Izuku Midoriya, this was no ordinary day. This was his first day back to school since his mother had died during Tungsten Panzer’s attack on Musutafu. The entire world as he knew it was ripped away from him in an instant. Not even the discovery that he was related to one of his favorite Rescue Heroes, Ragdoll, nor the ridiculous amounts of money was suddenly dumped on top of him in the form of a trust could muster a reaction out of him-

“Izuku, whoever says ‘money doesn’t buy happiness’ is full of shit…”

.

.

.

He just wanted his mom back.

He stared blankly at the notebook in front of him, filled with the beautiful sketches of heroes and writing detailing everything about them, pencil lines and lead smudges which were evidence of life and prosperity… Now Izuku couldn’t even draw a line without it looking dull and depressing in comparison.

He flipped through his notebook, only for the pages to come to an abrupt stop right in the middle. The pages revealed the ultra-detailed sketches (or as detailed as his twelve-year-old hands could get) of All Might and Endeavor. He grimaced at the sight of the Number One and Two heroes, they were both the most powerful of their compatriots, two whom Izuku looked up to and all but worshipped. The two of them, who are primarily stationed in Musutafu, failed Izuku all the same.

Endeavor, the first responder to the attack. He came in and narrowly one-shot the rampaging villain with minimal casualties. However, as the Flaming Hero attempted to detain Tungsten Panzer, his hubris got the better of him which gave the villain an opening to immobilize the hero… By dropping a building full of people right on top of him.

For the next five minutes as Endeavor tried to manually dig himself out of the rubble, Musutafu was Tungsten Panzer’s personal playground.

And it was during these fifteen minutes, that Inko Midoriya was caught in his path of destruction.

…

He was given a full report of her autopsy by the medical examiners.

Not like he would ever look at it anyway…

Endeavor failed his mom.

At least he had the dignity of showing up… unlike All Might.

Where was he when Endeavor was incapacitated? Filming a movie? Doing an interview? Showboating? Izuku knows exactly where he wasn’t. Musutafu, where an A-Class villain decided to remodel an entire town square.

Was it irrational thinking? Yes. All Might was just one man after all. No one can be everywhere at once. Not even someone as powerful as him…

Did it stop Izuku from being angry at the Number One? No.

The perpetually smiling face on All Might continued to irk Izuku, and the longer he stared the more his rage intensified. The more he stared, the more he realized how much he idolized this false idol. The more he stared the more he realized that heroes would rather stay on the favorable side of the public than defend them from future attacks from obviously dangerous villains. The more stared the more he realized some villains are supposed to die. The more he stared, the more he realized how All Might had irreparably impacted public perception of WHAT A HERO NEEDS TO BE. THE MORE HE STARED-

RIP!

Izuku’s eyes widened as he realized he had impulsively torn All Might’s page from his notebook. He stared at the crumpled, shredded piece of paper in his left hand, only to frown slightly. He sighed. I worked really hard on that…

But he couldn’t find it in him to feel sad about it.

“DEKU!” And here. We. Go.

Izuku didn’t even turn around, instead opening up a separate textbook to stare blankly at the pages.

“Oi, Deku!” Katsuki sneered as he approached the green-haired boy.

…

Huh? Katsuki blinked at the lack of reaction from Deku. Usually, the little shit would jump in his seat before turning around with a shaky smile, and squeak out something akin to a “hi, Kacchan,” or some shit like that. To see him not react at all was… annoying, to say the least.

“Oi! Are you deaf or some shit?” He snapped his fingers to try and get Deku’s attention. “Helloooo! Earth to Deku!”

“What do you want, Katsuki?” Hearing his own given name come out of Deku’s mouth was both shocking and disorientating to the blond bomber. He had to do a double take but decided to continue to sneer.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“You already know what my problem is,” Izuku replied curtly as he continued to stare at his notebook, refusing to look Katsuki in the eye. You were at the funeral.

“When the fuck did you get the balls to talk to me that way, shitty Deku?”

“H- Hey, Bakugou-san?” A more rotund boy with demonic wings, Tsubasa, Izuku believed his name was, piped up behind Katsuki, earning him a harsh glare.

“What do you want, extra?”

“W- Well. May- Maybe we should lay off of Deku for a while?”

“WHY? Just because his mom is dead? Oh, give me a fucking break!” Even someone as loyal to Katsuki as the winged boy recoiled in disgust at the blonde’s scathing words. “People die all the time, there is no need to act like a little bitch about it.”

Izuku mumbled something under his breath, causing Katsuki to snap his head toward his direction. “What was that, Deku?”

Izuku responded with an equally low mumble, enraging the blonde further.

“WHAT? SPEAK UP!” He lowered himself to the green-haired boy’s level, letting off some small popping in the palms of his hands, failing to notice that Izuku was gripping the edges of his head textbook. “I said speak up you, weak, quirkless, shitty Dek-”

WHAM!

Izuku hit the blonde flush in the ear with the hard spine of his textbook.

Katsuki stumbled away from Izuku, gripping his right ear as his entire head pulsated in agony as his vision blurred and darkened around his peripherals began to fade into darkness. His stomach did summersaults as he tried to regain footing. Only to trip on his own two feet and fall backward-

THUNK!

The sound of his skull bouncing off the ground was loud enough to cause the blood of everyone in the vicinity to freeze.

.

.

.

Riiiiiiiiiing

He gripped his head with both arms as a low droning ringing in his ears was the only thing Katsuki could hear properly. Even his thoughts were as drowned out as the world around him.

What the… fuck… Did- did a tree fall on me? He wondered as he tried to look up into the sky. Only to find the hazy silhouette of a boy with green hair staring down at him. A liquid slowly flowed into his mouth, marinating his tongue in a disgustingly bitter taste. Ew, what is that?

It was the taste of his cerebrospinal fluid.

Izuku continued to glare down at the blonde, even if the sound of Katsuki’s head colliding with the ground sounded as though a watermelon burst onto concrete. He watched as blood began to pool into his eyes, turning his sclera a dark red. After so many years of being a punching bag, of being the one getting kicked while on the ground, it was gratifying being the one standing over him.

“I SAID SHE WAS YOUR AUNTIE. SHE WAS YOUR FAMILY TOO-” The cat-eared boy screamed as he brought his foot up-

CRUNCH!

Before slamming it down onto one of Katsuki’s extended arms, causing it to snap cleanly in half. The downed boy jolted and tried to scream, but his malfunctioning brain only allowed him to let out a strangled “guh,” as he continued to drown in his spinal fluid. “DO YOU LIKE HOW IT FEELS NOW, BAKUGOU? HOW IT FEELS TO BE THE DEKU? DO YOU FEEL WEAK? DO YOU?”

Izuku got down on his knees, grabbing Katsuki by his collar, reeling his fist back, and slamming it down on his cheek, relishing the way his cheekbone cracked under his fist despite the bad form. He punched him again and again. “I LOST EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING!”

WHAM!

“YOU WERE THERE AT THE FUNERAL, YOU TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!”

WHAM!

“DOES A HERO ACT THE WAY YOU DO? DOES ALL MIGHT? ANSWER ME!”

WHAM!

“AH!” Izuku’s hand began to throb in pain from punching Katsuki so hard so many times that he opted to use his elbows instead to continue to demolish his face.

WHACK!

“FUCK YOU, BAKUGOU! YOU’LL NEVER BE A HERO! I’LL-” It was then that multiple pairs of hands grabbed Izuku and easily tore him away from the broken, mutilated Katsuki. Izuku struggled to get out of their grips. “LET GO OF ME, I’LL KILL HIM!”

They did not. More pairs of hands clasped onto him, furthering their restraint of the rabid green-haired boy. Words were being screamed at him, but the entire world was being drowned out by the hammering of his heart and the rushing of blood into his ears. Izuku’s eyes remained locked on Katsuki. He wasn’t moving. The entire right side of his face was caved in, and blood seemed to continuously flow out like a river, pooling under his head.

“I’LL RIP YOUR FUCKING SPINE OUT! YOU HEAR ME? YOU’RE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME? DEAD!” He continued to scream as he was finally brought to his knees by the unseen assailants in the blind spots of his tunneled vision. “I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM-”

Whack!

A swift chop to the back of his neck causes his vision to immediately go black.

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

March 17th, 2233
Musutafu, Japan

Knock, knock, knock!

Izuku combed his hair back as he waited for the door to open. It’s been over twenty years since the incident in the schoolyard. It was an incredibly stressful time for so many people. For the police, for momma Tomoko, for the Bakugous, but oddly enough not for himself.

When asked by the police, by Momma Tomoko, and by various therapists if he regretted what he did to Bakugou, his answer would always be “no.”

To him, he had already lost everything, so he had nothing to lose. He resigned himself to whatever fate bestowed unto him if the Bakugous chose, whether prison time or a lawsuit. How could they not? After all, he left their only son with a major concussion, spinal leak, broken arm, and several broken bones to his face, including a crushed eye socket that had to be reconstructed after multiple surgeries that still left a scar down the right side of his face, running down between his nose and eye. The entire ordeal could very well have killed him.

But when they learned the events leading up to Izuku finally snapping, and the years of mistreatment he experienced from the only person he thought of as a friend for being quirkless. To say that they were horrified was an understatement.

In the end, they did not press charges on Izuku. How could they, after they failed him so spectacularly?

The green-haired man did not know much of what transpired after he was brought in by the Pussycats, what he does know is that after Katsuki got out of the hospital, he was immediately thrown into anger management counseling. And it must have been one hell of a counseling too, because the Katsuki he knows now is way quieter and more willing to hear people out like he hadn’t before, which, when Izuku thinks about it, is an oxymoron. Was he brash at times and still flung curse words like he was an edgy teenager who was finally permitted to swear for the first time? Sure. More respectable? Absolutely. Sometimes Aunt Mitsuki would say he was ‘a whole new man.’

But Izuku didn’t care. It was only after what transpired during their stay at the Summer Camp did he started to admire Katsuki like he did before. Izuku will forever be grateful for the blonde-haired bomber protecting him and Kota from being killed by the monster, Muscular.

Creak!

“Izuku?” A woman’s voice snapped the cat-eared man out of his thoughts.

Standing at the doorway was a woman about two inches shorter than him in height, with a head of spiky, ashen-blonde hair that was greying on the sides. Her skin was pale and almost flawless except for some wrinkles under her eyes. Izuku could not help but allow a small smile to grace his face. “Hi, Aunty Mitsuki.”

The older woman soon placed her hand on Izuku’s cheek to ensure that it was actually her nephew-in-honor standing in front of her.

“You got taller! How dare you…” She laughed through a sob as tears began to streak down her cheeks. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Aunty,” Izuku responded in kind as he went to reciprocate a hug from the blonde-haired woman. As they pulled apart, the green-haired man’s face soon shifted into one of concern as he put both hands on Mitsuki’s shoulders. “How is he holding up?”

The way that more tears pooled up in her eyes and her lips tugged deeper into her frown did not reassure him.

Walking into the Bakugous’ apartment was like walking into a time machine. Except for a few picture frames that have been added and rearranged on the wall, the entire layout of the living room is the same as he last saw it over five years ago. It gave Izuku a sense of nostalgia from before he was burned by Katsuki as the Manticore, and with that nostalgia came the guilt of leaving in the first place without even a goodbye. He grits his teeth as he slits his fingernails across the indents of his thumb multiple times as penance for his absence from his surrogate family. Especially when this upcoming conversation may very well be the last time.

“Heya, champ…” A familiar voice called out to him, prompting him to turn around. “You look different. New haircut?”

There sat Masaru Bakugou bound to a wheelchair. His skin was turning almost grey, with many, painful-looking cracks running all up and down his bone-skinny hands and arms. His entire face was sunken in with a patchy beard growing on his face, and his hair was messier than Izuku had ever seen it. To Izuku he looked like a corpse, and to Masaru, he surely felt like it.

Izuku’s throat constricted tightly. He didn’t say anything as he slowly approached his uncle, praying to whatever God that had yet to abandon him to make the sight in front of him less severe, to assure him that it looked worse than it actually was.

As Izuku knelt before Masaru did the green-haired man finally noticed the state of his uncle’s legs. Or rather, the lack of them…

He opened and closed his mouth multiple times in a vain attempt to say something to Masaru. 

“Yeah,” Masaru decided to say as he looked despondent at the two stumps that were covered in pressure sleeves. “My body’s natural resistance can’t keep up with the potency of my quirk. It’s drying out my skin too. But hey, at least I’m still devilishly handsome.”

He only let out a breathy chuckle as tears began to sting his eyes.

“Try to leave some ladies for the rest of us, Uncle.”

Masaru wheezed hard as he smacked the armrest of his wheelchair before he descended into a violent fit of coughing to which Izuku began to panic, waving his arms around trying to figure out what to do. Masaru put a frail hand up to calm Izuku down as he continued to hack into a closed fist, tears rolling down his cheeks from the assertion.

After a full thirty seconds of violent coughing, Masaru was able to finally take a deep breath in and out without much interruption. Swallowing thickly, he wiped away the fallen tears before a, if shaky, smile graced his face once more.

“You won’t have to worry about that. I mean, look at you.” He stiffly rolled his wheelchair, smacking Izuku in the midsection with the back of his hand, pushing the boy back a bit before laying his hand on the struck area in confusion. “Women probably come crawling to you.”

“Oh god, you have no idea how true that is, pops.” A familiar voice caused Izuku to turn around with a deer-in-headlights expression. Standing behind him holding a pile of white ceramic plates was Katsuki Bakugou staring at him from the kitchen with both fondness and the classic Bakugou deadpan. “It’s a chore to keep women away from him.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku gasped before bolting toward the blonde-haired bomber with his arms extended, prompting Katsuki to widen his eyes in panic.

“NO, DUMBASS! I STILL HAVE PLATES-” Too late! Izuku rammed into Katsuki, wrapping his arms around the blonde’s torso, who tried desperately to reorient the balance of the plates. “FUCKING HELL DEKU!”

“GIVE ME THAT! DON’T YOU TO BREAK THE PLATES, KATSUKI YOU DAMN BRAT!” Mitsuki shouted as she quickly snatched the stack away from her son. 

“I’M THE ONE BEING ASSAULTED, YOU GODDAMN HAG!” Katsuki shouted back as he tried to pry Izuku away from him, pushing his face away with both hands, only to remain stuck in a deadlock.

“Kacchan, I missed yoooooou!” Izuku pretended to wail as he nearly lifted Katsuki off the ground but his waist, prompting the blonde to flail helplessly.

“YOU SAW ME AT THE MEETING YOU DUMBASS!”

“Uncle Deku!” A girl suddenly came barreling toward Izuku, who immediately dropped Katsuki, who let out a string of curses after hitting the ground, to catch the encroaching blonde. 

“Uhhhh. Who are you?” Izuku asked lamely, gripping the female replica of Katsuki by the shoulders.

“It’s me, Uncle Deku!” The girl laughed. “It’s Kimiko!”

“Queenie? That’s impossible, last I saw her she was still this absurdly miniscule creature…”

 “HEY!” She pouted only causing Izuku to burst out laughing as she ruffled her spiky blonde hair.

“Hey, hey, Midoirya!” Camie finally skipped up to give Izuku a quick hug. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Camie!”

“Yes, yes. Ow,” Katsuki groaned as he stood up, not nearly as pissed as he should have been after Deku dropped him on the floor. “It’s a big family fucking reunion. Is everyone happy? Alright.”

“You know, it’s been so long since we’ve last heard from you, where did you go anyways?” Mitsuki asked as she finished laying out all the plates on the dinner table.

“Well, I’ve been, out and about. I went sightseeing in Mexico and Peru, got lost in Europe, and found myself face down in a gutter in England, and then I went to die of heatstroke in Arabia, got resuscitated. Went to India, China, and Africa, found a plethora of Quirks, and published three books. See?”

The cat-eared man pulled out one of his books from…

.

.

.

“Where did he get that from?” Queenie asked her dad who only rubbed his eyeballs.

“It’s best not to ask questions when it comes to Deku and where he stores stuff.”

“Hm… Probably up his a-”

“CAMIE!” “MOM!”

“Well, I think it’s best if you tell us more at the table. Mitsuki here got up early morning to make a whole buffet of food, even though I told her that you might not come.” Masaru quipped as he, with assistance from Camie pushed himself toward the dinner table.

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, only smiling as she gave Izuku a peck on the forehead. “We’re lucky to have you here anyways, Izuku.”

“... yeah.” He smiled weakly as the gnawing feeling in his chest seemed to get deeper. Recently he had been getting sick from eating the most basic meals he dragged himself to make. It’s pathetic.

“GRANDMA MADE KATSUDON!” Queenie cheered as she joined her family at the table.

Izuku snapped his head to the kitchen, the pit in his stomach completely forgotten, clapping his hands together. “Ma’am, you had my curiosity. But now you have my attention!”

“Two years ago we found a small cyst in one of his kidneys…” Katsuki said as he leaned on the railings of the house’s balcony, holding a bottle of beet as he stared off into the distance, watching as the sun began its slow descent to behind the horizon, painting the calm skies orange and yellow signaling the end of a day. “It was small, so we got it easily removed and was completely benign, so we thought nothing of it.”

He paused to take a sip of his beverage before continuing.

“A couple of months later, my mom called me while I was working to tell me that Dad’s got really, really sick. One trip to the hospital, and an MRI later, we learned that more tumors had popped up throughout his body, in his liver, intestines, stomach, and spine, all cancerous, all acid resistant… And the doctor said the two words we were hoping we’d never hear. ‘Stage Four.’” The grip on the neck of the beer bottle tightened at the memory of the wave of utter devastation that rippled through his family when they learned of Masaru’s condition. “The doctor told us that, because Dad’s resistance to his quirk was failing, his body was trying to replicate more cells than what he lost from his quirk, resulting in the sudden appearance of all those tumors.”

Izuku listened carefully to what Katsuki was saying, his heart hanging on every word.

“I, uh… tried to get Eri to revert Dad to the point before he got that first tumor,” Katsuki let out a wet laugh, which sounded more like a mix of a scoff and a sob. “But Pops fucking shot me down without a second thought. He told me to ‘let nature take its course’ and ‘if it’s time for me to go, then to let him go.’ That stubborn… bastard.”

He covered his face with his hand as his face scrunched up, trying his hardest not to cry more. After a few moments of hiccups, Izuku finally turned to look at Katsuki. “I’m sorry that I missed so much. Had I known-”

Katsuki sighed as he wiped away the tears streaking down his face. “It ain’t your fault, Deku. I was the one who burned your spot-”

“No, you didn’t.” Izuku snapped causing Katsuki to flinch. “You were doing your duty as a hero to respond to crises. Don’t blame yourself for doing your job. We both had our own.”

“Then why the hell do you blame yourself if you were just doing your job?”

“You- wouldn’t understand.”

“No? Fucking try me, Deku.” Katsuki challenged.

Izuku only sighed, leaning deeper onto the railing. “Because there is something wrong with me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s for fucking truth. Give me the real reason.”

“I’m being serious, Katsuki,” Izuku growled. “I didn’t come back, not because I couldn’t, only because I didn’t want to! I could have come back at least two years ago after everything with Anato blew over. But no. I kept taking missions overseas.”

“Then why the fuck did you say you weren’t going to come back for five years, ten, twenty?”

“Because I didn’t want you to come looking for me! I-” Izuku paused as he inhaled deeply through his nose. “I enjoy… What I do as the Manticore. I enjoy killing the villains, I didn’t want you to see what I became.”

“The Manticore is not a man, he is a fucking lunatic!” He remembers the scathing words of O5-12 from a few days ago.

He glanced over at his surrogate brother as he continued to gaze at the horizon. Pressing his lips into a fine line, he turned to peer through a window, watching as the rest of the Bakugous talk merrily amongst themselves in the living room. All untainted of the burden of knowing the existence of the Manticore. All in blissful ignorance.

“Am I a bad person?” He asked abruptly, causing Katsuki to pause as he went to take another sip of his beer.

The blonde stewed uncomfortably for a few minutes as he pondered Izuku’s question. “Why ask me?”

“Because I want an opinion from a member of my family.”

“Don’t the Wild, Wild Pussycats know you’re the Manticore?”

“They’re not you. So, I ask again,” He stared at Katsuki with pleading eyes. “Am I a bad person?”

Katsuki thought for a moment.

“Do you still hold on to your morals?”

“I- I guess?”

“Have you killed any children?”

“Hell no, not even if they deserve it!”

“Have you raped anyone?” Katsuki began to raise his voice.

“WHAT? NO!” Izuku blustered, sounding almost offended at the mere thought of him doing something so vile.

“Have you upheld to promise to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves from the true evil?”

“YES!”

“Then you’re not a bad person, Deku.” Katsuki finally said softly, though with a frown on his face. He finally turned to rest himself on that railing again before sighing. “I just don’t know if what you’re doing is helping. Or if it’s making things worse. I’m only one person though. If everyone knows the Manticore exists, I’m sure they’ll have their own opinions.”

Izuku remained silent.

Katsuki looked at the bottom of his beer bottle. It was almost empty. He finally chugged down what remained before turning around to reenter the house. Before he could open the door, he paused.  “What do you think, though? Do you think you’re a good person? And I am not talking to the Manticore, I want to know if Izuku Midoriya is a good person or not.”

Green eyes locked onto ruby red, and an uncomfortable silence ensued.

“… y’know… just a thought.”

Katsuki entered the house leaving Izuku alone on the balcony.

April 19th, 2233
Toshinori Yagi Memorial Stadium, UA High School

The world’s most popular sporting event in the past one hundred years has finally begun.

The showcase of the immortals: The UA Sports Festival.

Thousands of heroes congregate at the Toshinori Yagi Memorial Stadium and millions across Japan tune in to watch the up-and-coming heroes of tomorrow battle it out for a chance to get the recognition from the heroes that they deserve, for an opportunity to train under their tutelage, whether that be an internship or work-study opportunity. For the instructors’ part, they have a front-row seat to watch all the events unfold, and most of the staff always seem to attend, (especially Requiem and Chargebolt, as they are the commentators for the first years,) however, there is one notable exception.

Ochako frowned as she looked back at the empty seat in front of her, with a plaque that said, “Reserved for Faculty, Midoriya, I. ‘Sphinx.’”

As she was lost in thought, she felt a weight suddenly grow on her shoulder. Looking behind her she found Yu leaning on her shoulder, smiling wolfishly at her.

“Ah shit, here we go…” The Anti-Gravity Heroine sighed to herself as she felt heat rising in her cheeks.

“You know, I have been seeing how you have been eyeing up Midoriya recently. Does someone miss their kitty cat~?” She cooed, causing Ochako’s face to burn up even brighter.

“N- No! I’m just wondering where he is, that’s all.” She tried to defend herself, only to hear the boisterous laugh of Rumi.

“Oh yeah, she definitely has the hots for Midoriya.” The Rabbit Hero had a wide smirk on her face as she wiggled her eyebrows at the blushing mess known as Ochako Uraraka. “Don’t get me started about how she looked like she was about to cream herself from the stunt she pulled off during the Rescue Training.”

“EW! THAT’S GROSS!” Ochako cried, covering her face with her hands. She turned to the short man sitting next to her with a pleading expression. “Mino, please back me up here.”

“I don’t know, Ocha,” Minoru hummed as he flipped a page of the fitness magazine he was busy reading. “You did seem like it when he praised you during the meeting with the Top 10 a few weeks back.”

“TRAITOR!”

“Seriously, what is it about him that’s got you so head over heels anyway?” The underground hero asked as he gave the brunette a sparing glance.

“Probably the muscles.” Rumi attested.

“No, it’s his uniquely analytical mind.” Kashiko finally added her two cents to the conversation.

“Have you read any of his publications? He has such a way with words!” Saiko gushed behind the cup of tea she was sipping from.

"Oh my God, which- hold on," Mineta groaned as he got up to face the heroines he had the misfortune of sitting with. "Raise your hand if you are attracted to Midoriya-san!"

Everyone's hands went up.

Mineta nearly choked on his spit before pointing at Momo. "Creati, isn’t your ass already married?"

Momo's hand promptly went down.

“Well. Looks like you got quite the competition.” Mineta sighed. “And you might be able to even the score if you answer the damn question.”

“W- well… because…” She hid her burning red face behind both of her hands. “Because he seems so nice. He lifts everyone up with just his presence, and he’s so quick to help, just like he did with Tenya and Kirishima-kun. And just like Kirishima-kun, all his students seem to love him. It also doesn’t hurt that he is really… really… really cute.”

“Oh dear, the steam coming out of her head is fogging up my glasses.” Saiko sighed as he used a cloth to clean the lenses of her glasses.

“Ah, so what you’re describing is certified daddy material!” Yu exclaimed as she stuck her palm with the bottom of her fist.

“Okayyyy, I am not nearly drunk enough for this, I’m going to the commentator’s room.” Mineta bemoaned as he trudged out of the teachers’ booth, leaving all of the female hero teachers to continue to chat amongst themselves.

“Wait, but haven’t you ever noticed something… off about Midoriya?” Kashiko asked, causing everyone to turn to her with confused expressions.

“What do you mean, Kashi?” Yu asked.

“Well, I’ve noticed that he’s been acting weird for the past month , like he is always on the edge and he is always tired.”

“Probably because it’s his first month of teaching, the monotony of it is coming back to him,” Rumi answered as she remembered how boring teaching felt for her when she started shortly after the wars ended.

“Midoriya-san also said he hasn’t been feeling well recently,” Ochako added.

“He has also been wearing turtlenecks constantly too.”

Momo quirked an eyebrow. “That could just be a fashion statement, what does that have to do with anything.”

“Because the men we know always wear turtlenecks when they have something to hide. And most of the time that thing is…”

“Hickeys…” Everyone came to a quick consensus, nodding solemnly among themselves.

“So either he already has someone or he’s a playboy.”

A faint lull washes over the gaggle of heroines as they imagine the frequency of Midoriya’s escapades. 

A pat on the back (more like a slap on the back that caused Ochako to yelp embarrassingly loud) from Rumi once again snapped Ochako from her imagination.

“I think I like your chances with him the best out of anyone else here,” Rumi said softly in a rare act of non-competitiveness. That is until her face twisted back into her signature smirk, before jutting a thumb toward Yu, Saiko, and Kashiko. “Besides, you’re the one who gets dicked down the least compared to these bitches.”

“OI, BOOOO!”

“BOOOOOOOO!”

“BOOOO! WHY DO WE EVEN TALK ANYMORE-” The three heroines jeered, giving the rabbit heroine a series of thumbs down as the white-haired woman blew them raspberries, all the while Momo began to laugh hysterically.

“Your boos me nothing, I’ve seen what turns you on!”

Ochako, on the other hand, only frowned. Not at her coworkers’ antics mind you, but at the enigma that was Izuku Midoriya. He showed up out of the blue to wow everyone and something about his demeanor seemed a bit off, especially when he had that confrontation with Bakugou after the Top 10 meeting. But he is also always so kind to everyone, so willing to help. There was also the way his eyes light up and the freckles on his face stretch when he finally figures something out, the way he tilts his head and his cat ears twitch like a confused kitty, the way his biceps protrude his shirts when writing on the board- WOAH!

Ochako jolted as she felt her hands burn from her hot cheeks before shaking her head. Jeez, I need to stop getting lost in my head, the tournament is about to start!

.

.

.

I wonder if Midoriya is watching?

He wasn’t.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in New Musutafu

“Mmm… Midoriya~.” The woman with Sakura-pink and green hair tied into a series of long braids mewled in between breaths, right before the green-haired man caught her tongue in between her lips, humming slightly.

As the woman got to work touching Izuku across his naked chest, admiring the series of jagged, faded scars that litter his entire torso, he got to work trailing a series of kisses and bites down her neck while staring ahead in boredom.

The void in his chest is getting worse. And instead of watching his students partake in the biggest hero event of the year, he is instead with another woman whom he talked up at a coffee shop!

For the better part of a month, he has been attempting to fill in that hole as best as he could, and his best solution was to drown himself in women. He is tired, tired of the feeling inside him, tired of all this hollow sex. His appetite is slowly dwindling, and he feels sick every time he finishes up with a new girl.

Every day he prays for something to release him.

He felt his balance shift and fall as the pink-haired woman wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him onto the mattress. She brought her lip up to gently bite into his earlobe, causing Izuku to groan.

“I’m on the pill, you won’t need a condom…” She whispered sweetly in his ear.

The act alone would usually make him shiver and or twitch with anticipation. Now he only furrowed his eyebrows.

“No,” Izuku responded hoarsely. He wasn’t going to risk it.

The woman pouted slightly before shrugging her shoulders, deciding not to fight it.

He pulled away to reach back toward his drawer as the woman proceeded to fiddle with his belt buckle. He roughly opened it to find a box of condoms. He looked at it for a second before sighing to himself. As he went to grab the box, a single, silver bullet came rolling into his view.

If you're going to kill yourself, know how to do it properly.

Izuku’s entire body locked up.

Slowly as he turned around the sickening way his stomach twisted increased as his head began to spin. The walls around him slowly begin to droop from their seems, and the dark corners of his bedroom suddenly begin to swim with unseen beings laughing at him, mocking him. Looking ahead there was… someone… something staring at him from the darkness of the hallway.

“I ̴̬̆̓z ̷̛̰̟̂u ̶͍͑k ̷͎̒u ̵̙̥̿? ̴͆͜ ”

Izuku’s eyes widened as he looked back down at the pink-haired girl-

Only to find the mutilated corpse of Himiko Toga under him. Her skin was tattered and peeling from the decimated body from the impact of all the hollow point bullets entering and exiting her body. Her face was now just a large cavity, where her tongue and what remained of her eyes dangled uselessly where her brain once was.

She was breathing.

“I ̶͚͇̦͙̳̐̐̀̕ Z ̴͖͂̄̓̎͘ U ̷ ̀ ̭͈̳̙͊ ̣K ̸̨̜̫͈̆̚ U ̴̛̖̭̹̙ ! ̷̢̧̤͙̲̎ ”

“AH!” Izuku immediately leaned back to get as far away from Toga as possible. However, he miscalculated how much power he put into this act and completely fell off his bed, crashing to the ground with a loud THUD!

“OH MY GOD, IZUKU ARE YOU OK?” The woman shouted in a panic.

The back of Izuku’s head throbbed as he slowly peeled himself from the floor, staring up at the woman’s pale green eyes, widened and laced with concern.

“Get out.” He said with a shuddering breath.

“Wait- b- but-”

“I SAID-” Izuku inhaled sharply to calm himself down, looking at the floor in shame. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I want to do this now…”

He didn’t look up the entire time she took to collect whatever discarded clothing there was on the floor and walked out of his bedroom, and then out of the penthouse completely. He stood up using his bed as support, dragging himself to the bathroom, where he turned on the water tap with trembling fingers. Leaning on the sink he lifted his head to look in the mirror, a fickle reflection of a man.

His eyes were sunken with dark rings surrounding them, he was gaunt from the number of times he vomited after trying to choke down a meal, his lips were swollen from his earlier activities. His calloused hand scraped across his neck as he stared haplessly at the markings of several women over the past month. Several…

HRK!

Izuku wretched violently but nothing came out since he hadn’t eaten anything throughout the entire day. His entire chest burned as he gripped his sink harder, threatening to collapse from the force of his grip.

Filthy so… Immediately he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it in water before he began to scrub it against his arms to cleanse himself. Disgusting…

Filthy little fucking… manwhore. He didn’t stop even when it began to feel like sandpaper to the skin, nor when his arms turned an angry pink from the exertion. He clenched his teeth to scrub harder, but a movement in the mirror caught his eye.

He looked in the mirror trying to see what was behind him, but the perspective wasn’t enough for him to see completely. He turned back to stare out the door.

“Kanroji-chan?” He called out through the door.

.

..

…

He received no response.

He turned back around-

" ̷̬̲̝̪͉̑̊̐͝ͅ M ̶̛̹̥͈̮̜̤͔̆̊͘͝A ̶̭̗̆̌̊̓̓̐͂ͅN ̷̛̇͝ ́ ̪̻̇͛ ̣ ̡͇̭̩T ̵̨̢͚̘̘̗͇͌̐̐̀͆͗̕I ̸ ̀ ̠̾̄̈͝͠C ̷̥͎̓̓̐͊̚O ̴̪̼͉̪͚̟̓̈́͆͗R ̷̡̪̩͙͆͂̐͜ͅE ̶̢̈̂͋͂̏͊! ̸̡̯̬̝̳̙͚̇͂́͂̍ " ̸̎̔̃

̂

Izuku punched his mirror in pure shock, shattering it into pieces and sending shards directly into his bare knuckle. His breath hitches as he stumbles back before tripping over the lip of his bathtub, causing him to tilt backward.

He flailed his arms to regain balance but he was already too far gone-

“Shit-”

THUNK!

To add insult to already sickening injury, the curtains fell on top of him draping him completely. He groaned as he lifted the curtains off him, before glaring at his shattered mirror.

The thing he saw in his reflection imposed on him was not that of a human. It was completely black with a tussled mane surrounding his face with razor-sharp teeth, and a split bottom jaw that opened up revealing at least three more rows of teeth.

He leaned his head back to rest on the tub's rim before letting out a soft, wheezing laugh. So quiet and so helpless.

The one you hear when you can’t bring yourself to cry.

I can’t take it anymore.

The moment he exited his bathroom, he went straight for his hero shrine. Ignoring the faces of his heroes, colleagues, and friends, he bent down, furling his carpet to open the secret compartment.

He smiles widely when he finds the suitcase that hadn’t seen the daylight, or more accurately, the moonlight in a month.

UA High School

“AWWWWWWW- LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, AND THOSE WHO IDENTIFY AS NEITHER! IT IS TIME FOR THE FINALE OF THE FIRST YEAR’S SPORTS FESTIVAL!” Chargebolt’s voice echoed throughout the arena as the cheering from the crowd reached a fever pitch. “AND HERE COME OUR FINALISTS NOW! HUMBLE YOURSELVES, FOR THE QUEENS HAVE ARRIVED!!”

Striding to the stage are two girls. On the right was a girl with a pale complexion covered in a series of bandages that wrapped all up and down her arms, and a patch on her right cheek, with spiky ashen blonde hair and piercing red eyes. On the left was a taller girl with bright yellow skin, jet-black hair with a yellow streak, and compound red eyes.

“ON THE LEFT, HAILING ALL THE WAY FROM HOKKAIDO IS THE SUBJUGATION SPECIALIST OF UA. ALL HAIL THE CLASS REPRESENTATIVE OF CLASS 1-A, ALL HAIL THE LORD-LADY OF THE SWARM. ALL HAIL HANI HACHIMURE! AVE, 1-A!”

The Hymenopteran hero in training raised her fist to the crowd who continued to roar with excitement and interest.

“You are incredibly biased,” Requiem mumbled through his commentator’s mic.

“Oh shut up you-”

“Just read the damn script!”

…

“AND THE CHALLENGER! FROM OUR VERY OWN, NEW MUSUTFU, FROM CLASS 1-B! SHE IS THE WAY INTO THE CITY OF WOE, SHE IS THE WAY INTO ETERNAL PAIN, AND SHE IS THE WAY TO GO AMONG THE LOST! BEFORE HER THERE WERE NO CREATED THINGS BUT THOSE THAT LAST FOREVER—AS DOES SHE! ABANDON ALL HOPE YOU WHO ENTER HERE! BECAUSE YOU ARE NOW IN THE PRESENCE OF THE QUEEN! KIM-I-KO BAKUGOU!”

“They walk the path of the hero, we only walk on the road which they lead.”

“AND WE CANNOT FORGET ABOUT OUR FABULOUS REFEREE, THE UA ALUMNI SPORTING THE ELDRITCH, BELLIGERENT SCARF, E-REVERT!”

Eri smiled as she waved at the crowd as the black capture scarf slithered around her arms. Internally, however, she was cringing at the attention. I’m only here just in case someone dies!

“Alright ladies, you know the rules. I want a good fight. If someone passes out, they’re out. If someone gets outside the boundaries, they’re out. If someone yields… You get the picture. Try not to kill each other, I have full authority to intervene if needed. Don’t make me intervene, please.”

A cold shiver ran throughout the entirety of the stadium. Suddenly E-Revert’s demeanor softened with a smile. “And make sure to have fun!”

WHAT A CRAZY BITCH! Everyone thought simultaneously.

Up in the Principal’s Booth

“KYA! Look at Eri go!” Mrs. Joke squealed, taking photos of her (even if adopted) baby girl as the Sports Festival referee. “I am so proud of her! It’s like seeing her graduate from UA all over again, sniff …”

Her eyes began to brim with tears as her lips began to tremble, sobbing loudly. “I’M SO PROUD!”

Eraserhead smiled as he watched his wife switch between gushing over Eri and crying loudly. He never thought he would be sitting here now, hell, he didn’t think he’d live long enough to even have a family! Emi, for the better part of ten years, asked Shouta to marry her and he would always brush her off, believing it all to be just part of her character. It was only after both of the Wars did he realized that it was not the case.

Emi and Eri both saved his life in one way or another, after the death of Nemuri and the end of his career (Eri offered to rewind him to back before he was permanently injured, which he refused because he was too tired to care at that point,) he needed the stability, and they both offered it to him without hesitation.

No force on either Heaven or Earth could ruin his newfound life.

RING! RING! RING!

So why not a force from Hell instead?

“HEY!” Emi shouted at the O5 Council member, who was currently fumbling to pull out his phone. “I THOUGHT YOU SAID THAT YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON MUTE! LIAR! ”

“I did, honey, but if it rings anyway it means that this is important!” Shouta explained as he finally got a closer look at the screen. “GOD DAMN IT!”

Shouta immediately got to his feet before storming out of the room, however, he let out a sigh before turning back to look at his wife, whose face was laced with worry. “Sorry Emi, but this is way more important than I thought.”

“O- Oh… Okay…”

Eraserhead slipped out of the room, as he closed the door behind him completely he scowled at the screen of the phone, which had an incoming call from a number with no name. The only indication of who it is lies in the caller icon, which was branded with an inverted cross. He begrudgingly furiously accepted.

“THIS MATCH WILL GET RED HOT,” Eri finally announced, raising her arm before sharply bringing it down. “AND BEGIN!”

Minutes Prior…
New Musutafu

Moko Tamashi let out a yelp as she was grabbed by the back of her collar and thrown into the confines of an alleyway, on a pile of stinking, sticky garbage. Her attacker suddenly brought a box cutter up to her throat. “Nuh uh-uh. Your purse… nice and slow…”

With a shaky hand, the woman grabbed her purse by the strap and handed it to him.

“Good, good. Now your earrings.”

“N- no! P- please… They’re all I have left of my-” The tip of the blade dug deeper into her skin, threatening to take out her jugular.

“You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate.”

“Please, I’ll- I’ll do anything! Just not my earrings.” Where are all the heroes? Shit, it’s the Sports Festival, they’re all watching it!

“… anything you say?” The man hummed as his eyes began to trail down the Moko’s lean figure. “I can think of another way-”

Flipping his knife, he made a single upward slash, masterfully slicing through the woman’s blouse open, revealing her sports bra. Moko began to panic, as she realized how hot the fire burned when she tried to escape the frying pan. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, please! PLEASE! WHY ME? WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?

“I always love it when women comply,” the knife-wielding man chuckled, standing up to undo his belt buckle. “And you’re going to love me…”

SKREEEEEEEECH

A high-pitched roar echoed through the alley, one that sounded like the horn of a distant ship, the roar of a ferocious lion, and the screech of a wraith… Both the woman and her would-be rapist both froze as the feeling of suffocating terror crashed down. It was suddenly so hard to breathe when the bloodlust around them began to generate mass. Moko couldn’t see what made that noise, but she could see how her attacker was frozen, looking toward the edge of the alley she was dragged into.

“H- hey, wh- who the fuck are you-” BANG!

Moko flinched, covering her ears as the sound of a gunshot reverberated throughout the entire alley. Her eyes remained wide open, watching as her attacker dropped his knife to immediately hunch down and grip at his throat, where crimson fluid began to gush through his fingertip.

Her mouth widened in terror, trying to scream but no sound came out. The man tried to run to the opposite end of the alleyway, as blood poured out of the hole in his throat like a faucet, but in his panic, he stumbled over his own feet before collapsing to the ground, still gripping his neck. She watched in horror as he writhed around in agony. Even when he was moments away from irreversibly violating her over some earrings she ran solely on autopilot, reaching for her purse to grab her phone to contact paramedics and law enforcement.

However, the presence of someone new standing over Moko stopped her in her tracks. She slowly looked up in terror, meeting face-to-face with the empty maw of a snarling lion.

The Manticore only stared down at the woman for a moment before turning his attention back to the woman’s attacker, sauntering up to him as the man looked up in fear and desperation. The Blackout Hero said nothing as he raised his boot over him-

SPLAT!

Moko immediately vomited on herself as she watched the man’s eyeballs pop out of his skull, with brain matter spurting out of every single open orifice of his head. The Manticore raised his boot again, noting the massive indent in the man’s cranium.

SPLAT!

A second stomp to the dome caused the entire head to burst like a pimple, sending brains and skull fragments flying into a Jackson Pollock, leaving a single, unrecognizable portion of the back of his head still attached to his body. The Manticore stared at it for a moment, relishing in how it felt to finally slay a villain after a whole miserable month of sitting on his ass. That is… until he remembers he has a witness. The victim.

He turned around and locked eyes with the woman, who was shaking in fright, covered in her last meal from witnessing the unspeakable actions committed in front of her.

“Go.” Was the only thing he said to her. It was the only thing that needed to be said.

She stood up with great haste, messily gathered her things, holding her blouse together, she didn’t even look back as she ran out of the alley like a bat out of hell upon shaky legs.

The Manticore stood there for a few moments after her departure he sighed to himself. “Crap.”

He made his way out of the alley, looking around to see if there was anyone, a hero or curious good Samaritan, in the area, but the dark streets remained completely destitute. He sat down on the curb and pulled out his encrypted phone, grumbling to himself as he dialed probably the last man who wanted to talk to him at this moment. He lifted his mask, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it as he listened to the dial tone.

…

…

…

CLICK!

“Problem Child, you have exactly 5 seconds to give me a good reason why you’re calling me now of all times before I turn your skin into a new leather jacket. GO!”

The Manticore sighed on the other end of the line. “I uh… I kind of fucked up…”

“Oh, really?” The O5 council member responded dryly. “In what way?”

“I lost my mcfucking marbles and curb-stomped a rapist until his head became a pancake. I am picking pieces of his brain from between the indents of my boot as we speak…”

There was a long drone of silence between the two nightwalkers, which slowly became uncomfortable. The Manticore shifts nervously, waiting for any sort of reaction from Aizawa.

“Hello-”

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!” The usually monotonous underground hero roared, so loud in fact that Izuku flinched and took his phone away from his ear. “I TOLD YOU MIDORIYA, THAT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO LAST THE THREE YEARS OF INACTIVITY, YOU BRUSHED ME OFF, AND A MONTH LATER, YOU FOLD!”

“Ok! I’m sorry!”

“WE GAVE YOU VERY, VERY SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS TO STAY PUT-”

“AND YOU SAY THAT…” The Blackout Hero scoffed slightly before lowering his voice. “And you say that as if I have to listen… Because you seem to have forgotten who my true masters are. Sure, the Public Safety Commission allowed me passage into Japan so I could operate without hindrance, but make no mistake, they are not the ones calling the shots. That would be the Hero Association’s Board of Directors and my handler, Mastadon.”

"..."

"…"

The once uncomfortable silence now became incredibly tense between the two, as the Manticore could hear the cheering and muffled chaos of the Sports Festival behind him. Eraserhead finally exhaled in exhaustion and concession. “… fine… What is it that you need.”

“First, I need you to get Agent Hayasaka to call the PHYSICS division to cover this up. Also, call Nezu to find the woman who was originally being assaulted, she has long brown hair and…” The Manticore trailed off as he noticed someone across the street, staring at him.

The man in question looked like a mummy, wrapped from head to toe with bandages, including over his left eye. Whatever wasn’t covered by either his tattered trench coat or the bandages was bright red with healing burns, except his left arm, which was instead a prosthetic limb made of rusted metal.

“Manticore?”

“Let me call you back…” The Manticore didn’t allow Aizawa to get another word in before he ended the call, finally staring at the stranger as he got up. “Can I help you?”

“Are you the Manticore?” The Stranger asked in a deep but cracking voice. Probably has to do with his injuries…

This immediately caused the Manticore to lock into his Blackout Hero persona, glowering at the mysterious stranger. “Who’s asking?”

“You killed my family…”

The Manticore pressed his lips into a thin line, never taking his emerald eyes off of the stranger but raising an eyebrow instead. “… which one?”

The bandaged right hand, which upon closer inspection was missing a ring finger, brought up a single, blue marble. The Manticore immediately went for his pistol, but the blue marble sparkled, disappearing as it revealed a beaten, charred top hat- OHHHH!

“Mr. Compress, you’re alive!”  The Manticore demeaned with a wide smirk, extending his arms to the side in mock celebration. “Though, shouldn’t be all that surprised. They only found three bodies in Kamino, which I found odd because there should have been four. But when they ruled that your body probably was unrecoverable, I had a feeling that you used your quirk to compress yourself before the fire could finish you. Very impressive!”

Mr. Compress remained silent, only deepening his painful scowl at the blackout hero’s callousness, at his mockery.

Entrusting this World to Idols ~ Idolatrize World - Jun'ya Ota  (Cover by RichaadEB)

“You should have stayed dead. You and your ‘family’ fancied yourselves as revolutionaries. You’re not revolutionaries, you were all cowards wearing the faces of ones.” The Manticore’s Cheshire grin bled away, revealing the cold empty expression of pure hatred directed at the showman, as his voice began to plunge deeper into vindication. “You and your family invigorated savagery AND THEY ALL DIED, SAVAGELY. Dabi died to fire, Himiko Toga died choking on her own blood, CRYING, BEGGING TO BE SPARED!”

“SHUT UP!” Mr. Compress roared back, causing blood to leak from between the gaps in his teeth.

“And all that remains is just you…” The Manticore slipped his mask back on, automatically activating the modulation. “SO COME ON MAGIC MAN… Give me a spectacle.”

“SUBJUGATION!”

“ANNIHLATIOIN!”

KABOOM!

Hani tsked to herself, dodging yet another massive explosion as the shards of hair she threw burned before it ever reached her intended target. Immediately she jumped out of the way of the blonde blur that shot past her at blinding speeds.

Queenie, immediately sensing that she was barreling out of bounds, put one hand spewing nitromethane in front of her and detonated it. With a small explosion, she spun around like a top, extending her left leg which reeled back for an explosive power kick, however, Hani ducked down to dodge it. The blonde snarled as she immediately exploded out of the way of the wasp woman and pulled out another piece of her hair, trying to strike Queenie in her gut.

On touch of the hair by Queenie would spell victory for Hani. She intended to not get close to her to begin with.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Letting off more explosions, Queenie zipped around Hani, trying to disorient her opponent with the potential to attack from all conceivable directions.

KABOOM!

Hani looked directly in front of her to see Queenie was going for a head-on assault, she didn’t question this change in tactic, instead pulling a strand of her hair, which hardened into a dart, flinging it at the blonde with great speeds.

However, as it was mere inches from subjugating Queenie entirely, she put a hand under her- 

KABOOM!

Launching her over both the dart and an astonished Hani, who stared up with wide, compound eyes at Queenie, who was smiling ferally and extending both hands cupped in front of her-

KABOOM!

He’s throwing explosions! The Manticore flipped backward using his hands and feet to springboard himself multiple times as massive explosions continued to rock the streets. He compressed parts of the Kamino explosion, and he’s throwing them back at me. What an asshole!

BOOM!  

The blackout hero flipped out of the way of another explosion, landing behind a car as he made a quick inventory check. One M1911 with eight- No, check that, seven bullets left. Five throwing knives, my katana, and a kukri blade. I am woefully underprepared. But I didn’t expect to get myself in this much trouble! Let alone against someone I thought I already kil- IS THAT A FUCKING MAZDA?

Yes, Mr. Compress had compressed a whole car and chucked it at the Manticore, who quickly scrambled away as it collided with the vehicle, causing them both to detonate, shattering nearby windows.

KABOOM! Glass crystals rained down on the Manticore who performed a zig-zagged sprint away from the compression villain.

“YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE FROM ME!” Mr. Compress snarled, hurling more marbles at him.

“OH BELIEVE ME! THAT IS THE FARTHEST THING FROM MY MIND!”

“THEN COME BACK HERE AND DIE!”

BOOM!

Hani ducked another one of Queenie’s dive bombs, grabbing the blonde by the leg and spinning her around. She made a startled yelp as her momentum was suddenly thrown off course and she couldn’t correct herself with an explosion, so Queenie covered the back of her head and neck with her hands as she was SLAMMED into the concrete.

“Owie…” Her head spun, focusing on her breathing, and her vision finally came back to her just as the shadow in front of her became bigger- She widened her eyes as she used the remaining strength to her arm, pushing herself up and back just as-

SHINK!

One of Hani’s hair blades splits the ground right between her legs. The subjugation queen widened her eyes, and Queenie, without a second thought slammed her foot onto the blade, snapping it in half, then driving her foot into her opponent's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her.

Queenie threw her feet back, rolling back before landing on her hands, and just as she reoriented herself she jumped up and kicked both of her shoes off, revealing her bare feet. She then stomped her right foot so hard that it cracked the ground and tensed her entire right hand. She crouched a bit and extended her left hand forward as a billowing haze of holographic smoke began to surround her. “Technique Development: Mirage Expansion…”

And from the cracks underneath her planted foot, dozens of hands burst out, trying to grab the legs of the queen bee girl. “SHEER HEART ATTACK!”

CRASH!

WHAM!

BOOF!

The Manticore jumped over another rock careening toward him at breakneck speeds. He looked up to find Mr. Compress, who used compressed air to launch him into the air, compressing chunks of buildings. He flung a series of marbles into the air, which decompressed, turning into waves of falling debris.

But it wasn’t enough for the compression villain.

So instead, he threw another marble above to the debris-

BOOM!

An explosion launched the debris down faster than the eye could blink and broke it apart for more raining fragmentations. The Manticore widened his eyes as he realized this, and drew his katana, slashing the hundreds of raining rocks, rotating his blade in a blender motion. However, a marble slipped past his sword. Not wanting to wait to see what horrors it held, he immediately began running backward-

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the Manticore, sending him flying, which caused his visor to crack and shatter and his katana to fly in an unknown direction. He slammed into the side of a parked car with such force that he caused the entire vehicle to flip alongside him. Although he stuck the landing, he spent multiple precious seconds trying to regain his balance by flailing his arms, allowing Mr. Compress ample time to close the distance.

The Manticore came face to face with the gloved hand of Mr. Compress. Not wanting anything to do with that, he immediately ducked and replaced his missing sword with the shorter kukri, slashing up, trying to cleave through the villain’s chest, but the mad hatter blocked it using his left arm. The friction of the two metals caused a bright spark to fly into their faces, which prompted them to separate.

The Blackout Hero screws his eyes tight as he tried to shake off the temporary blindness. He has only been using his right hand for attacks. Does his quirk not work through his prosthetic? If I incapacitate his right arm, I may permanently incapacitate his quirk!

“There it is… There is the Manticore,” The Manticore could hear the charred Mr. Compress chuckle to himself. “Not the mask but the man. Even with it off, you are still the same monster.”

“Hm… Monster, huh? Funny, that’s exactly what I called Toga before she died.”

That quip immediately wiped the smirk off of Mr. Compress’s face, replacing it with a snarl, throwing more marbles from out of his right arm.

Hani planted both of her feet on the ground, grinding to a halt mere inches away from going out of bounds, only to cartwheel and somersault away from more explosive mirages of hands reaching out to grab her and explode. Her once long, black and yellow hair was now just a pixie cut, meaning she was on her last leg now. Once her hair becomes too short to pluck out, it's game over since she will have to fight Queenie hand-to-hand, which seeing her ferociousness in previous rounds, is not ideal.

Grabbing the last of the hair on the sides of her head, she yanked it all out. Sprinting toward the center of the arena, she jumps over more mirages, crushing the chunks of hardening hair in her hands.

Queenie began to rapidly retreat but stopped just before getting out of bounds. She looked between the border and the approaching Hani.

Hani smiled as she made it to the center, crossing her arms.

“Ultimate Technique,” The bee girl then threw the microscopic chunks of her hair into the air cascading all around her forming a shield that shredded the mirages caught in the area of effect. “IN THE HALL OF THE VESPIQUEN!”

One touch of the hairs on Queenie and it’s over.

So she does the next best thing.

KABOOM!

She blasts herself out of bounds.

TWANG!

More sparks flew as Mr. Compress parried another slash of the Manticore’s kukri to his right arm. Did he finally figure out that only my right hand can activate my quirk? I need to FINISH THIS!

The villain kicked the Manticore away with all that he had left, summoning all that remained of his compressed inventory. Including pieces of the Kamino explosion and the last Dabi’s flames. “THIS IS YOUR CURTAIN CALL, MANTICORE. THIS ENTIRE BLOCK WILL BE INCINERATED, AND YOUR CORPSE ALONG WITH IT!”

“THE FIRES OF HELL ARE NOT ENOUGH TO STOP DEATH, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOUR SPARKLES WILL BE ANY DIFFERENT!” The Manticore screamed in response as he threw the last of his throwing knives at the showman villain.

“KEEP SPEWING YOUR PROFANE ANALOGIES,” Mr. Compress throws the marbles in the air. All time seemed to slow as the marbles began to slowly erupt with different colored fire. “BECAUSE THIS WILL BE A EULOGY FOR THE LIVING!”

What is she doing? Hani, along with the entire audience thought to themselves as they watched Queenie continue to blast herself around the arena, teasing the ground so as not to be disqualified.

BOOM! FWOOM! BOOM! FWOOM! BOOM! FWOOM! BOOM! FWOOM!

Hani looked from side to side to try and get a good look at what Queenie was trying to do, however every time she thought she had an eye on the bomber, the blonde just seemed to get faster! Spinning, spinning, SPINNING! The bee girl widened her eyes as she looked at the borders of the arena, the air seemed to be solidifying. Dust, oxygen, and nitromethane began mixing into a wind funnel.

SHE’S USING A TORNADO TO FUNNEL ALL OXYGEN TOGETHER TO MAKE A MASSIVE EXPLOSION!

The entire crowd watched in shock as the tornado seemed to reach the sky. E-Revert and the entire crowd sitting in the first few rows wisely decide to run out of the vicinity, lest they get caught in the blast radius.

Queenie blasted herself in the eye of the cyclone, just above the apex of Hani’s hair trap.

“Ultimate Technique:” She pointed both arms toward Hani, but instead she redirected her shot toward the sky. And you’ll see why. “HALIFAX IMPACT!”

The entire stadium goes white.

.

..

…

..

.

KABOOOOOOOOOOM!

A shockwave tore through the entirety of New Musutafu, and a mushroom cloud that seemed to disintegrate the nearby clouds could be seen from miles away, even in the darkness.

The massive explosion that rocked the barren streets that the Manticore and Mr. Compress fought in, dwarfed the comparably pathetic kamikaze by the villain.

Atsuhiro Sako didn’t even know what hit him, however, a charred and bloodied Manticore sprinted out of the blue and orange fireball with nothing but blood lust in his eyes, even when half of his face was in the process of melting.

“Wha-”

SCHLING! SCHLING! SCHLING!

The kukri blade went through his right arm, both legs, and the left side of his abdomen. His back hits the floor with a wet thud, completely and utterly decimated. He couldn’t feel anything, not his arm falling off, not his thighs sliding off the rest of his legs, not his intestines spilling out from his torso. His vision blurred and his hearing was just gone.

He’s bleeding out, and he knows. But he forced his eyes open, watching as the Manticore approached him, pistol in hand.

“You know Mr. Compress. I was actually a fan of yours,” The Manticore rasped out, his voice modulator irreparably damaged from the explosion, as was his mask and uniform. Not that Atsuhiro could hear him. “Stealing from the rich, give to the poor. Something that me and my mom got behind. But then you went fucking crazy and joined a group of psychos to wreak havoc on the world and for WHAT?”

“You sick… twisted fuck…” Compress rasped out in a desperate attempt to stay conscious as his blood began to fall into a nearby drain. “I'll see you in… HELL!”

“Oh, we’re both going to Hell, alright. We’ll just have different roles there. You are to be punished, and I am the punishment.”

“Damn you!”

“Damn us both!”

Mr. Compress let out one last, gutteral scream of defiance, trying to use his mechanical arm to lift himself off the floor as the Manticore pointed the muzzle right in the magician’s face-

BANG!

.

..

…

Queenie kneeled in the center of the stage, right next to the prone, unconscious body of Hani Hachimure, both arms extended to her sides, basks in the lights of the stadium, and the cheers of the heroes around her.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN YOUR FIRST YEAR SPORTS FESTIVAL CHAMPION, KIMIKO ‘THE QUEEN’ BAKUGOU! NO WAY! NO WAY, YOU ARE A LEGEND! NO WAY, YOU ARE AN EMPRESS! WITNESS HER, ALL MIGHT! ACKOWLEGE HER, LEMILLION! TALK ABOUT HER, ENDEAVOR! FORCE THEM TO ADMIT, AMATERASU! TELL THEM THE TRUTH, CRIMSON RIOT! ISN’T SHE THE BEST? ISN’T SHE SPECTACULAR? ISN’T SHE THE GREATEST?”

End of Chapter 7

[Ending Song: Savior – By Rise Against]

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 8: Manticore Victorious

April 20th, 2233
New Musutafu, Undisclosed Location

[Opening Song: Gurenge – By LiSA]

“Last night, while everyone was watching the Sports Festival, I was busy having a spiritual awakening.”

To say that the Manticore was in tremendous agony was to understate it so much that it should be a crime punishable by death. And it was very apparent to those looking at him.

The entire O-5 Council (including the Overlord) could not help but squirm lightly in their seats as they watched the Blackout Hero limp around the room. His entire person smelt of ash and charring flesh, the popping of the boiling skin underneath what remains of his suit. The mask, if you could even call it that anymore, barely covered half of his face. On one side it was completely exposed due to the shattered visor, a single emerald eye cast its gaze over each council member. The other side was only bandages, hastily applied to keep the melting flesh from literally falling off his skull.

The explosion left its lasting mark on the Manticore, making him seem more like a beast than ever before. He even caused multiple Public Safety Commission employees to faint when he marched into the building. However, even when every single part of his body screamed in absolute agony, he only continued without strain.

“And from that awakening, I learned a few things. One: You can't break a man in the same manner you break an animal. I learned that the hard way fighting Mr. Compress. The harder you beat a man, the more resentful, the more dangerous he becomes. The same thing applies to all criminals. To properly break a man, you have to break their mind first. Villains have this idea they are just in what they do. You must destroy that idea, show them what a messy horrible thing it is to kill a man by doing it against the depraved, and then show them that you relish in it, that’s how they truly repent. Destroy their preconceptions of what a man is and become their personal monster. When they fear you, you become stronger, you become better. But let's never forget that it's a display, like a lion's roar, or a scorpion snapping its claws. If you lose yourself in the display, if you succumb to the horror, then you become the monster. You become reduced, not more than a man, but less. And it could be a risk, and it could be fatal. But it's a risk I am willing to take.” 

Nezu resisted the urge to scratch the old scar that ran clean through the flesh around his right eye, the same one he received when he killed one of his captors during his escape from the laboratory that experimented on him and his fellow chimera littermates. He knows better than anyone else in the council what it means to be someone’s personal monster. And what it means to lose himself to it.

“Two: after nearly 20 years of being the Manticore I have realized something that I should have figured out from the very beginning. Villains will not fear the night if they don't fear what lurks within it first. They actively seek out the night because it is a blind spot for all heroes except for the Underground and vigilantes. After all, the night is when they are allowed to do what they can’t do in broad daylight.”

“And three: Izuku Midoriya and the Manticore have been synonymous with each other since the beginning. From now until the bitter end. So why should I keep hiding from myself? And why should I keep hiding from the world?”

The Manticore weakly raised his arm, pressing a button on the small remote control in his hand causing a television screen to emerge from the wall, depicting a set of two zeroes, one green, one red.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Overseer’s Council, I called you here today because I would like to declare the existence of the Manticore to the criminal world of Japan, to let them know there is someone out there that has no interest in playing good guy versus bad guy. To allow them one last chance to atone and reevaluate before I go after the murderers, rapists, and human traffickers. I have already been signed off by the entire World Hero Association Board of Directors. And now I come to you.”

A heteromorphic wolf mutant wearing a pair of circular sunglasses, O5-9: the Lycanthrope, raised her clawed man, prompting the Manticore to nod stiffly for her to ask her question. “Wasn’t the entire point of Blackout Heroes that no one knows that you exist?”

“I understand the misconception, but no.” The Manticore stared at his left hand, shriveled and charred, each nerve, screaming out in unending agony. He tried to ball his hand into a fist, however, he was completely incapable of closing his hand all the way, no matter how hard he squeezed. “The point is that we kill who needs to be killed the most. It is my identity and the institution of Blackout Heroics that is censored and protected from exposure by the Association, but my existence can be revealed to the public with their authorization. There are a select few Blackout Heroes in the world, even less than its general population, who decided to come out of the shadows. Black Eyes Zhou in China, Dream Catcher in America. Most are dead now, but they were successful in dropping the crime rate to near zero in their areas of operation. I will, unfortunately, lose the privilege of being cleaned up after by the Association and the Commission’s PHYSICS Division. Less of a reason to when everyone knows what you are, and you want them to see the consequences of their treachery.”

“Will our vote even matter?” Nezu finally asked as he leaned forward, planting both of his stubby elbows onto the table as he hid a grimace behind both paws.

The Manticore snorts to himself as he waves a finger at Nezu. “In the grand scheme of things, no. All I needed was for the World Hero Association’s authorization. No, this is more of a formality. And for me to know if I have the support of the Public Safety Commission behind me.”

Most of the O5 council members gave each other a wary glance, while O5-13, who poignantly stayed in the back of the conference room, hid his face in his hands as a lit cigarette sat between two of his fingers, looking absolutely miserable.

Nezu couldn’t help but rub his paws together. His poker face was usually always perfected, never leaking out any unnecessary emotions when it was not needed, no matter how he felt. It was always the same fisheye, beady smile.

But now he couldn’t help but allow a grimace to grace his face.

He had just made a major miscalculation, severely underestimating the Midori- no, the Manticore’s loyalty to them. Or was it truly Midoriya speaking to them, now that he had confirmed the two identities as the same person? Even the head of the O5 Council didn’t know for certain.

Perhaps it was his age catching up to him. But he knew even if his younger self was in the position, he would not have foreseen this either. He had overseen his growth alongside the Mastodon and Eraserhead since his first year of training, but he never stopped to wonder if he truly held the reigns to the Manticore.

No matter, what’s done is done.

“Overlord, we have a problem.”

A voice emitting from the PA system snapped Nezu out of his thoughts. His demeanor forcefully shifts back to his joyful disposition as he reaches to press a button that allows him to respond. “Yes?”

“E-Revert barged into the lobby and she looks, pardon my coarse language, absolutely pissed, and is currently heading straight for the conference room. And- I know you have a top-secret meeting-”

Aizawa rolled his chair up to Nezu, reaching past the chimera to press the button. “This is O5-13. Let her, she’s been invited to conduct a routine healing on the Manticore.”

“Aye-aye, Eraserhead.”

A couple of seconds of waiting was all it took before Eri kicked the door to the conference room off its hinges.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Izuku asked as he noted her appearance.

Her silver hair became so disheveled that he wouldn’t be surprised if it had somehow gained sentience. She was also severely gaunt, her eyes seemingly sunken in, and even her horn seemed to be struggling, its glow flickering as its growth began to grow with a severe stutter. It possibly had to do with the unnecessarily large thermos she held, embroidered with the concerning label that read: ‘DANGER! Extremely concentrated! Do not drink if you are not named Eri Aizawa.’

“I spent the last… 10 HOURS… healing people because Queenie deafened nearly the entire stadium with her last attack!” She responded with a strained growl. “I haven’t slept, and I have been surviving off pure, concentrated caffeine and espresso!”

“That can’t be healthy.”

“NEITHER IS RUNNING INTO AN EXPLOSION!  CALL IT!”

“10:03 PM, approximately 24 seconds.”

She stomped up to Izuku, placing her entire hand over his face as her horn flickered back on. The entirety of her horn shrunk back down into a nub as the green-haired man’s burns and injuries all faded away.

“Hey thanks, E-” SMACK!

The force of the silver-haired woman’s hand on his face knocked Izuku to the ground, groaning in pain as his right cheek turned a blisteringly angry shade of red. E-Revert allowed an incomprehensible noise to erupt from her throat, using her anger to keep herself conscious long enough to drag herself up to Eraserhead, where she collapsed to her knees and slammed her face on her father’s lap, not caring that she was in the presence of the entirety of the O5 council and that her cheek landed harshly on Aizawa's robotic leg, falling asleep almost immediately.

The O5-13 exploded into a blush. He glared at the rest of the council members, daring them to open their mouths to comment. They all made a wise decision to hold their tongue, opting to turn to face the front where Midoriya began pulling himself up, using the table as leverage.

“A- anyways, ow, I think it’s time to conduct the vote.” He gestured to the screen as he rubbed his red cheek. “Overseers… You have the floor.”

Two buttons appeared underneath the table where each council member sits, allowing them to use their knees to vote entirely anonymously.

BEEP! BEEP! Immediately the numbers on the screen changed.

For: 1
Against: 1

The Manticore looked back, trying to gauge each council member’s expressions to see who voted already. It didn’t take a genius to find out who voted against him, as the Denizen glared at him unabashedly. The former, however, was much trickier to figure out as it could have been anyone. Nezu and Aizawa were both strong contenders, despite the latter’s vocal disappointment in everything the Manticore does. Midoriya was still his student at one point too, and he’d be damned if he didn’t support him all the way.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

More votes began rolling in, so the Blackout Hero decided to drop the contemplation, closing his eyes as he waited for the voting process to finish.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

.

..

…

..

.

Only 12…

“I’m still waiting for one more…” The Manticore said as his eyes remained shut.

He could feel the tension in the room begin to rise. Breaths were starting to become labored as the air thickened, bracing as it seemed to reach a boiling point of suffocating silence…

…

BEEP!

…

Everyone let out breaths that they didn’t even realize they were holding in. Slowly the Manticore opened his eyes finally getting a look at the screen.

…

His smile widened, stretching so far that it could very well split his face in half from the exertion.

“8-5. Majority in support.” He hummed, turning away and walking out the broken door, but not before making one last comment as he entered the halls. 

As the Blackout Hero disappears into the halls, the rest of the O5 Council begin their leaves as the meeting is as good as ended. Eraserhead lifted his exhausted daughter off the floor and piggyback carried her out of the conference room, but not before shooting Nezu a dirty side-eye. The chimera didn’t even attempt to meet Aizawa’s gaze.

He sat unmoving, steadfast as the remainder of the O5 filed out of the room, leaving only two remaining. O5-12 leaned down to get close to the chimera’s ear, seething as she spoke.

“You are losing control. You have given him far too much autonomy. You need to fix this or, for the sake of the world, retire…” She finally stood up straight and walked away from O5-1 without another word.

Nezu pressed his lips into a thin line, pulling a squeeze lighter with a sleek, glossy, nickel coating from his pocket, further decorated with a glistening depiction of a palm tree by the sea. A gift he received from Mastodon years ago when they would share a smoke. He sighed, opening a cigar box and pulling out a nicely packed Cuban from the tin. He put it in his mouth and allowed the flame to ignite the front, puffing away as he leaned closer to the table.

“If you lose yourself in the display, if you succumb to the horror, then you become the monster. You become reduced, not more than a man, but less.” Izuku’s words repeated in his mammalian head. He sighed. 

The years of being the mastermind behind every victory for the heroes has finally come to an end.

April 21st, 2233
New Musutafu

“Suki, are you coming to bed?” Camie yawned as she laid her head on her hand, glaring at the back of her husband’s head as he sat hunched over his desk looking at a huge pile of papers.

“In a minute,” Katsuki responded, as glared between two papers and the television which displayed the VOD of the entirety of the First Years’ Sports Festival. He had spent the entire afternoon and evening going through the entire event frame by frame looking at every detail of the students’ combat abilities, quirk mastery, and tactical thinking.

“Ugh, you already said that, like, an hour ago already. And the deadline to submit internship offers isn’t until Wednesday. You’re going to totes have a stroke if you keep pushing yourself like this.” Camie sighed.

“Sorry, baby…” The blonde had turned to smile apologetically at his wife. Only to face forward again with a deep scowl. “It’s only the fact the only fucking offering I was going to give was to Queenie. Only for her to break her old man’s heart and say she wasn’t going to intern with me. Instead going to Wunderfucker- Who does she think she is?”

The Wunderfucker that Katsuki is referring to is Wunder Wall, aka Kosei Tsuburaba, from 1A’s old sister class, Class 1B.

Camie couldn’t help but smack her forehead in exasperation. Days before the Sports Festival, Queenie pulled both her parents aside and explained to them that she would be interning under neither of them. Instead, finding someone else unfamiliar to help hone her skills. And who better to help her than someone who also needs mastery over their breath control?

Where was Katsuki’s mind during the entire conversation anyway? Space?

“What got you so stiff about this anyway?”

“Well, I promised Shinazugawa-san, my agent, that I would have at least one intern this quarter and my only ticket to appeasing him left me high and dry.” Katsuki dragged both hands down his face in exhaustion and stress. “And now I have a soulless, psychotic albino with the most potent and lethal wind quirk on the planet, shoved right inside my FUCKING ASSCHEECKS! ”

He punctuated each word by gesturing his hand down at a clenched fist. What the fist represents should be obvious.

Katsuki let out another sigh in sheer exhaustion. However, a pair of arms slipped under his, wrapping around his chest. His eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets as a soft pair of mounds pressed into the base of his neck. Good morning, little friend!

Heat rose damn near everywhere as he felt his hot breath tickle the skin behind his ear. “You work so hard to make Queenie happy,” Camie whispered seductively into her husband’s ear, causing him to shiver as she grabbed the remote and changed the channel on the TV to show a shitty romcom that is used for background noise more than anything else. “Why don’t you relax…”

Katsuki couldn’t help but turn to face her, he couldn’t help but get lost in and drown in those chocolate eyes of her that stared at him with both hunger and worry. He swallowed the lump in his throat as both of their faces got closer to each other.

“Okay.”

What started as one or two slow, loving kisses on the chair slowly evolved into a sloppy, heated makeout session, which only intensified in heat as they moved things over to the bed. Katsuki wanted to do nothing more than slip his hands under the large shirt that Camie slept in every night and feel every single curve of her body.

However, what should have been the low, nearly inaudible drone of the television suddenly changed into loud static, causing both lovers to jolt in their embrace.

Camie and Katsuki pulled apart as they turned to their television. On the screen was a man with long black hair and a pronounced chin sitting, beaten black and blue, with tear streaks below his grey irises, shaking with each breath.

“Isn’t that-” Camie mumbled, only for her husband to finish her thought.

“Skeptic?”

Tomoyasu Chikazoku had kept himself entirely in the shadows for the better part of a decade after the end of the Wars, being the only one of the old guard of the MLA to both survive and remain unsubjegated by the law. And here he sat, dragged from the depths of his freedom and defeated.

“What is your name?” a heavily modulated voice that sent shivers down both of their spines asked the bloodied ex-executive of the PLF.

Wait… Katsuki’s stomach dropped as he came to a haunting realization. I recognize that voice…

Skeptic looked off to the side briefly, looking at the voice who stood outside the frame. He gulped. “Tomoyasu Chikazoku.”

“Codename.”

“… Skeptic.”

Is that… Katsuki’s eyes widened as he recognized the modulated voice from out of the frame. No…

“Affiliation?”

“Meta Liberation Army.”

“Last words?”

He stared at the Manticore for a few moments. Finally, his eyes slowly descended onto the camera lens. “For our Liberation-”

SCHLING!

“HOLY SHIT!” “WHAT THE FUCK!” Katsuki and Camie both shriek as they watch Skeptic’s head get lobbed off cleanly from his neck with a single swing from a sword.

Immediately the stump began to gush endlessly with blood, but it didn't stay in frame for too long as a boot kicked it over and out of sight before completely turning to static. The Bakugous gave each other a horrified look before Katsuki’s phone began to rapidly vibrate and ping with messages. Suddenly music started playing, drowning out the loud droning of static. He reached over to his nightstand, fumbling to properly grasp the device, and looked at the screen for a moment before accepting the call.

“Shitty Hair!” It was Eijiro.

“Bakubro! You watching the TV?”

“I am! You see that shit too?”

“Yeah, my entire agency saw it on the TV! What the HELL was that?”

“I don’t know-”

“Do I have your attention now?"

Katsuki froze. His entire upper body became scaley with goosebumps as shivers ran down his spine. Gripping the phone tighter as he turned around, he watched as his wife’s terror-stricken gaze glued to the screen of their television. On it was a man in all black with a mask which took the appearance of a roaring lion staring at the screen in a dark, indiscernible room.

“You may not know who I am or why I am interrupting your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this message… But do yourself a favor and listen.”

All up and down Japan, the Manticore became plastered on every public broadcast, every channel, every screen. Hundreds of television stations scrambled for an explanation for the hijackings, and to find a way to retake the programming.

What they didn’t know was that when the Manticore wanted something done, he would see through it to the very end.

“Evil has become far too commonplace in the world, and we were arrogant to believe it would be eradicated after the end of the wars.”

The entirety of the Tokyo Metropolitan Area had come to a grinding halt, as everyone watched the broadcast on their phones, the televisions in public buildings, on the screens all over the downtown area. Most wore expressions of disgust, fear, and morbid curiosity.

“And it will always exist to counter the good in the world, but it can be kept at bay if those who are willing to make the stand against it are also willing to bleed and to kill for it.”

A man with light brown hair sipped at his coffee as he sat in the middle of a rundown, yet still open café. He along with the few remaining patrons and staff all stared at the televisions, enraptured. He smiled widely as everyone else cowered under the empty gaze of the man in black.

“And I am sanctioned for exactly just that.”

Mirio has long since forgotten his paperwork, opting to stare at the television as the man in black continues to spout. A dull ache in his battered arms droned within him, making him unconsciously rub his forearms. A sense of familiarity, of fear, began to bubble and burn alongside the ancient quirk in his chest. The same feeling he had when he had fought Shigaraki for the last time.

At the modulated words of the man in black, even the Vestiges shuddered. Images of a familiar foe flash through his mind.

“From the beginning, I have been permitted unrestricted access to use lethal force to complete my mission, and my mission is to purge all evil from existence. The common people have spent too long living in fear of the next attack. Well, they shall fear no longer.”

Somewhere in Musutafu, a man donning a navy-blue padded armor, with glowing, teal indents in the crevices of his armor merely glanced at the broadcast with mild intrigue as he fidgeted with a small, pink capsule with a red nucleus. Slipping back into the shadows of the sewer.

No matter… It remained inconsequential to what Monsoon had planned.

The screen changed to show a still image of the decapitated corpse of Tomoyasu Chikazoku, holding his severed head in his lap. “You have already seen what I am capable of, and you didn’t even know it was me. To Skeptic…”

Mahoro Shimano stared at her little brother, whose eyes were glued to the screen, her brow pinched in worry. Though she is one of the children saved by the Manticore and knows of his true identity as one Izuku Midoriya, who had inspired her and Katsuma to become heroes of their own, she couldn’t help but try to distance herself from him.

Katsuma however, idolized the Manticore as much as he did his God, so much so that he began to train under the tutelage of the Blackout Hero. The thought of her once tiny, timid little brother becoming a villain-murdering psychopath of his own accord, and immune to the law… worried her.

The screen changed again to show a picture of the smoldering remains of a large warehouse. “… in the Anato Warehouse Incident…”

Camie widened her eyes before turning to look at Katsuki. He wasn’t even looking at the screen anymore. His eyes were closed, head tilted down, facing the ground, with a pained expression painted on his face. Not one out of fear or rage, as one would expect from him after being reminded of such traumatic events. But of shame.

Her eyes slowly dragged back to stare at the screen as her hatred and horror warred within her.

And again, it changes to show a photo of three hanging, mutilated bodies in an alleyway. “… to the Musutafu Three…”

Minoru lowered his canteen of coffee as he watched the broadcast from the edge of a building overlooking downtown.

And again… “To Compress, to Dabi…”

The entirety of the Frost Fire Agency stood in front of the massive flat-screen television as the investigative photos of the lower half of Dabi’s dead body appeared on screen. Both halves of the room felt the temperature either drop or swell. They all cautiously turned behind them to see their boss, Frost Fire, struggling to remain composed as his fists began to freeze and burn.

Finally, the screen changed one last time to show a picture of a brutalized naked woman lying face down on cold tile and broken glass, her face swelling from the amount of blood pooling between her skin and her skull. “And to Himiko Toga-”

CRASH!

Tsuyu Asui nearly jumped out of the couch she was sitting on when the television suddenly found itself with a TV controller embedded in its screen, destroying it as sparks flew from the dusty audio openings.

The frog woman blinked multiple times before turning around, only to find her roommate, Ochako, storming up the stairs.

Ochako couldn’t allow Tsu to see her shameful, angry tears streaking down her face.

“I am the Manticore.” The man in black said as he pulled out a large, curved kukri knife, running his gloved finger along the side of the blade.

Kota turned to Eri, both with gleeful smiles on their faces as they watched Izuku begin his campaign of fear against the criminal underworld, hugging each other tightly in celebration.

“I am the warning, I am the darkness, and I am the end.”

Even the people on the other side of the planet were watching the broadcast too. Although it was awfully early in Los Angeles, an old man with silky-white hair, light brown eyes, and a long, fluffy beard stared at the broadcast.

You have finally lost it. Haven't you, Izuku?

“Our heroes cannot be trusted to do what is necessary to offer permanent solutions to the problem of villainy, so I have decided to step up for them.  And if those in power, those who claim to be on the side of justice try to stop me… I’ll kill them, all of them.”

A woman with seafoam green hair and violet eyes widened her smile as the words sent pleasing shivers up her spine, the modulated voice sounding like honey in her ears. Squirming in place as warmth began to rise in her core. She stood up from where she was sitting, skipping away, knowing exactly how to get his attention.

Now that the Toga bitch is dead, it’s time for me to make Manticore-kun proud. Kyahahaha!

“And if you don’t believe me, then the O5 Council will gladly confirm for me.”

Hitoshi smushed what remained of his cigarette into the ashtray, glaring at the screen in disgust as each horrific photo of the Manticore’s atrocities flashed on the screen for the world to see. And the rage of knowing that the O5 KNEW about what he was doing and did nothing…

“To those who threaten the lives of the innocent. Those who take advantage of the weak and poor. Those who believe themselves untouchable by the law…” The Manticore leaned in, pointing directly to the camera, to the thousands of villains he had just declared war on.  “It’s your turn to run…”

He paused, leaning back into his seat. “Because I am here.”

The broadcast ends. The programming slate before the interruption resumed. A rather massive, rotund man stroked his ginger beard, the edges of his lips perking up as he hummed to himself. “Hm.”

April 22nd, 2233
New Musutafu, Kesseru Park

There have only been two instances in history where the Hero Network experienced profound technical difficulties.

The first instance was the aftermath of the final, deadly battle between All Might and All For One, when a sudden spike in user activity caused the network to become overloaded and go temporarily offline.

The second instance was during the continuation of the war against the PLF. When Skeptic launched a major cyber-attack which DDoS'ed the network until former celebrity villain turned hero, La Brava, took back control from the PLF lieutenant.

Now a third event has accomplished the feat of once again shutting down hero network servers.

"Your broadcast caused the Hero Network to explode! I'm getting angry calls from the Commission saying that the hardware is literally melting in their server rooms!" Ragdoll angrily spewed through the phone causing the man responsible to wince.

Whoops.

"Sorry..." Izuku meekly responded. “But you know that wasn’t my intention…”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you got what you asked for, Izuku. Attention. You’re trending everywhere and all eyes are on you now.  #MANTICORE is trending number one on Twitter, HeroTube, and Pornhub… For some reason…”

“Excuse me?”

“THE POINT- that I’m trying to make is that you have everyone’s attention now. I’m sure you know how much of a double-edged sword this is, right?”

“Yes, mom. I understand that response, or rather, blowback will be severe on both sides of the law. But it’s my turn to lay down my law. You of all people should know when someone believes the world is theirs to conquer.”

Tomoko sighed on the other end of the line. She knew it was inevitable for the Izuku to finally leave the confines of secrecy to personally destroy the morale and will of any villain foolish enough to exist in his proximity. Although she will never be comfortable with his methods, she’d be hard-pressed to disagree with them either. She especially knows what happens when villains become too significant of a threat.

Every time she closed her eyes, she’d have nightmares of that face. Or rather, the lack thereof.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Izuku.”

Izuku paused his stride. He glanced around the park he was walking in. It was still quite early out, with the sun barely appearing over the horizon of concrete giants. Far too early for people to walk through here on their commute to work, far too early for anyone to eavesdrop.

“It’s alright, Mom. I know what I'm doing.”

…

…

…

“Right…” Tomoko responded with a disbelieving tone which only caused Izuku to sigh. Tomoko huffed before changing subjects. “What’s this about you and Aizawa wanting me to be your assistant.”

“Oh yeah, that,” Izuku mumbled. “I need someone to help me and take care of my classes when I am not… available. And the first person that comes to mind is helpful enough and is better at connecting with kids better than you! It also helps that you actually have a teaching license… Something I sure as hell don’t have.”

“Aw… Izuku…” Tomoko cooed at the kind words from her adopted son. She took some teaching classes during the beginning of her forced retirement to fulfill her in a way being an office cat never could. She never thought it would ever be brought up since she didn’t really do anything with it, and for Izuku to remember it- Wait a second. “This isn’t a ploy to get me to do all your grading right?”

Izuku froze, stumbling as he wasn’t expecting to be called out in such a tone. Or called out for his shit at all. “Uh… No! Not at all!”

“Oh my God.”

“Trust me on this, Mom. You will be a big help.”

“Ah yes. I will be on my tail trying to read a bunch of hormonal teenagers’ essays as my psychopath of a son is out decapitating villains and taking selfies with their corpses… Is that at all necessary?”

“Do you hear them complaining?”

“Where have I gone wrong as a parent?”

“I love you too.”

“I don’t have a PhD in Quirk Theory!”

“I’ll write you the lesson plans.”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“It’s not like you were trying to talk me out of considering you…”

“… Fine… But I get 50% of your teaching paycheck as reimbursement for my time!”

“50 PERCENT? You’re out of your mind!” Izuku shouted in shock at how insultingly low that number was. He had more money to burn than a cartel boss in quick need of warmth. However, before he could comment on it, something, or rather someone caught his eye, prompting him to perform a double take. Tomoko’s words were mute to him now as his gaze was locked onto the familiar, brunette bob of hair hunched over on a park bench. Face held in both her hands. “Done. Gotta go bye!”

“Huh? What?”

CLICK!

God, I probably look so stupid right now. Ochako thought dryly in an attempt to feel better. Crying on a park bench like this… I can hear Katsuki yelling at me now. ‘Pull yourself together, Cheeks, you're reeking of teenage angst!’

She slouched deeper into the uncomfortable steel seat and rested the back of her head on the curve of the bench. If only I had met you years earlier, maybe I would have saved you. Maybe I could’ve stopped you from going down that road. All you just needed to do was ask. I’m so sorry…

“Himi-chan.” She whispered to herself with her eyes closed. Letting the barely rising sun warm her from the bitter draft of the morning.

Crunch!

Ochako’s eyes shot wide open as she looked toward the sound. Sitting right next to her chewing happily away at the sandwich he held in both hands as a familiar set of gray cat ears atop a head of messy green hair.

“MIDORIYA-SAN?” The brunette cried out in shock before slapping both hands over her mouth when she realized how loud she was. Again! I didn’t even hear him again! How does he keep doing this? “What are you doing here?”

She quickly wiped away the tears that were staining her face, her face burning in embarrassment knowing one of her coworkers had seen her in such a state, hoping that her burning blush would hide the puffiness around her eyes from the crying.

“I came out here for a walk,” He replied after swallowing his food. “I just so happened to run into you here, and it looked like you needed someone to talk to.”

He’s not wearing his sunglasses. Ochako finally realized as she gazed into the pair of emerald orbs who stared at her, expression laced with worry. Up until now, she had only seen Midoriya when he wore his aviator sunglasses when he was the Sphinx. But now… They’re so bright…

They took her breath away.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked before taking another bite from his sandwich.

…

!!

Ochako gasped slightly before turning away, further embarrassment burning on her face. “Y- Yeah.”

“I see…”

Neither would comment on how it was still seven in the morning.

Midoriya paused chewing, looking over at Ochako as she stared off into the distance, resting her hand on her hand. He frowned, swallowing.

“Are you alright? If you need someone to lend you an ear,” He smiled as he pointed at his twitching cat-eared headband. “I have two pairs!”

It was such a lame joke, Midoriya knew that much. However, the bright grin began to fade when Ochako’s face became increasingly despondent. “I’m fine… Midoriya. You don’t have to worry about me…”

…

“You don’t look fine,” He responded meekly, almost begging to hear her out, causing the anti-gravity heroine’s lip to quiver slightly. “I may not be Mineta-san. But I can listen. So, please. Uraraka-san… Talk to me.”

She looked back at Midoriya one more time. She bit her lip, wanting to just scream and rant about the Manticore, to cry because she couldn’t save Himiko, and reveal all of her burdens to somebody.

She can't do that to Midoriya. No. She wasn’t as close to him as she was to the likes of Minoru, Katsuki, Tsu, Tenya, Yu, or Rumi. But she couldn’t go to them because she knew the amount of disappointed or exasperated looks she’d get from them for even mentioning Himiko, or even alluding to her. No one will understand why she tried so hard. (At times she wonders if she even knows herself.)

But Midoriya showed her nothing but kindness, even now.

He may not understand either.

But he will listen without any sense of judgment. (Minoru wouldn’t offer any as a professional, but as a friend, he couldn’t do that.)

This time, maybe, I should be vague…

“When I started my first year at UA, I had a sort of… identity crisis as to why I wanted to become a hero in the first place.” She began, caressing the fleshy pad on each of the digits of her hands. “At first, it was to earn enough money to allow my parents to live a comfortable life. We never had much money growing up, but they’d do so much for me anyway, so it was to pay them back for everything they did for me.”

“It’s not like I was exactly dishonest about it. But after everything that happened with Stain, I began to realize that there was something much more about being a hero than the money, even if it wasn’t for me. It took me a while, but I figured it out.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs as she continued. “There was this girl. Her entire… entire life was just unfortunate even after unfortunate events. Stuck to being hated by everyone because of something she couldn’t control. Until I met her…”

“At first, I couldn’t identify with her. I just saw her like everybody else did, a monster. And when I finally began to recognize I was repeating the very same cycle that caused her to turn her back on society, I did the one thing no one else wanted to do. I reached out and asked if she needed help.” She smiled sadly at her lap; tears resumed their itchy, painful descent down her cheeks. “She smiled at me… And for the first time, I finally realized what kind of hero I wanted to be. A hero that brought smiles to peoples’ faces.”

She paused, glancing over at Midoriya. He had his eyes closed as he allowed the rays of the rising sun to warm his face. His tan skin glowing in such a way that- “You can keep going. I’m still listening.”

“O- Oh right.” He’s been listening! “I uh… She didn’t let me help her… In fact, her condition only got worse. All she craved for anymore was for my attention. But I kept going, even when everyone else told me not to.”

“She died… She was killed by someone who hated her as much as the wider society did. Deep down I knew she didn’t want to be saved. It was like a pipe dream. But I guess the thrill of the chase kept me from stopping.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not.” Ochako’s eyes widened in surprise at how sharply Midoriya responded as he turned to face her with a hardened, determined expression. “It’s honestly not. You did what any hero would do. You did not give up until the very end, even when you were told you couldn’t.”

“I’m a hero, I am supposed used to seeing death and going through tragedy. It comes with the job… I- I shouldn’t…”

“These emotions come naturally to those who still retain themselves.”

.

..

…

“Thank you, Midoriya…”

“We’re friends, you can call me Izuku.”

“Only if you call me Ochako!”

He hummed in agreement before they finally lapsed into comfortable silence. The sun finally beaming down its beautiful golden rays from the sky. Today will be too nice of a day to stay in one place.

“How about,” He grunts as he stands up. “I buy you an overpriced latte. If you want.”

If Ochako’s face could get any hotter, it’d become a supernova. She only smiled, wiping away her tears. “Only if you also get overpriced mochi…”

Izuku's eyes widened a bit, his cheeks, for the first time throughout the entire conversation, dusted pink. He then smiled brightly, extending a hand for Ochako to grab so she could be helped off the park bench. The brunette stared at the hand, hesitating slightly, but she persisted anyway, grabbing it (pinkies up, of course) as the green-haired man used his strong arms to lift her. Sadly, he let go of her hand as quickly as he grasped onto it, much to her mild disappointment.

“Alright, let’s go!” He cheered slightly as he turned to walk down the concrete path.

As Ochako was about to follow him, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She paused, pulling it out and looking at the screen.

Tsu-Chan 🐸

Shit! It’s Tsu! She cringes at the memory of her absolutely thundercunting the remote control at their shared house’s television yesterday. Hesitantly she unlocked her phone to see what was sent to her.

Tsu-Chan 🐸 :
Kero

Classes won’t start until tomorrow

So Momo is calling everyone to a meeting at 6

Probably about the Manticore

Ochako immediately grimaced at the thought of having to even talk about the bastard.

To Infinity 🚀 🚀 🚀:
Okay

Hey Tsu

Sorry about the TV…

Tsu-Chan 🐸 :
Dont worry about it

Kero

We needed an upgrade anyway

To Infinity 🚀 🚀 🚀:

Thank you 😭

“You alright?” Izuku asked, looking back at her.

“Yeah,” She responded more truthfully this time, sliding her phone back into her pocket. “I just had a meeting scheduled for today.”

The cat-eared man shrugged before turning back around and continuing down the trail.

But seriously, screw the Manticore…

April 22nd, 2233
New Musutafu, 1-Alliance Building

“The memorandum of instruction to all heroes under the jurisdiction of the Hero Public Safety Commission Overseer Council regarding interactions with the Manticore.” Hitoshi read aloud as he paced around the meeting room of the shared inter-hero agency. “The O5 has recognized the introduction of the Manticore will cause controversy among our ranks due to his incredibly lethal approach to maintaining order and exerting justice.”

‘Controversial,’ huh, understatement of the century. Denki bitterly snarked to himself as he grabbed the paper that was passed to him by Momo. He felt a hand squeeze him under the table. He turns to face a woman sporting messy purple hair in a slick short bob cut, and long headphone jacks coming out of both ear lobes. He smiled as he squeezed back, his jaw no longer tense at the presence of his wife, Kyoka Kaminari, aka the Hearing Hero: Earphone Jack.

1-Alliance is a united front hero agency shared by most members of UA’s infamous Hell Class, 1-A. From the chaos and horrors that they sustained during the wars, the bond between the then-heroes-in-training could never be broken or separated. By the time they reached the pinnacles of each of their careers, they formed the 1-Alliance, headed and funded by Momo and the joint wealth of the Yaoyorozu-Todoroki estate.

Currently, 18 of the 20 members sit in the conference room, each having a tired, or annoyed expression. Katsuki, however, only watched passively with his feet on the table, not offering Momo a sparing glance as she set the paper down in front of him.

Hitoshi continued. “For the record, one must understand that this decision was brought by the Manticore themself, with support by the World Hero Association and its Board of Directors to operate exclusively within the borders observed by the Commission, which includes the Japanese mainland island, and its maritime territories. It is paramount that we maintain an air of professionalism in the presence of the Manticore, no matter how questionable or disturbing his methods are. For that, a series of guidelines have been drafted by the members of the O5 for heroes working, whether deliberately or inadvertently, alongside the Manticore.”

“Well, this should be good,” The lavender-haired underground hero sneered as he read further. “There shall be no attempts to apprehend the Manticore. The law of Japan, more specifically the Criminal Procedure Code does not apply to the Manticore or their conspirators. Furthermore, they are immune to most international laws regarding homicide, kidnapping, torture, property damage, burglary, and other crimes that violate the Geneva Convention, Hague Conventions, 2026 Oslo Conventions, and the Global Meta-Human Bill of Rights. In the eyes of the law, there is no probable cause to justify detaining the Manticore.”

“Investigations into the Manticore and their collaborators, whether it be surveillance, forensics, or background intelligence, is strictly prohibited as they work freely, solely due to their anonymity. To learn of their identity or identities is a severe global security risk and a major risk to yourselves and the Manticore themself.”

“Finally, the Manticore operates with no quarter given. The O5 Council and WHA Board of Directors have full confidence in the judgment of the Manticore as they have previously collaborated in tandem with the O5. We subscribe to the belief that those whom the Manticore targets have, without a shadow of a doubt, committed a crime severe enough to warrant forfeiture of their continued existence. With that in mind, do not attempt to rescue someone reporting an encounter with the Manticore. No matter how frantic their screams are.”

“Failure to abide by this new standard or sabotaging the operations of the Manticore is grounds for indefinite suspension of hero license, closure of hero agencies, imprisonment in a WHA prison facility, or summary… execution by the Manticore…”

Hitoshi was so close, so close to making a snarky remark as he finished reading. However, the final line took all the wind from his sails, only opting to stare at the document blankly as he paused his strides.

.

.

.

A pregnant pause washed over the entire meeting room as everyone digested the words written on the memorandum.

“By order of the Hero Public Safety Commission Overseer Council and World Hero Association Board of Directors, we hope to retain a positive working relationship with the Manticore for as long as they operate in Japan.”

…

“So, he wasn’t blowing smoke up our asses,” Kyoka grunted as she was the first to break the silence. Everyone turned to look at Kyoka as she stared at the table as if it offended her family lineage. “The Manticore can kill us without repercussion.”

“Yeah, positive relationship my ass,” Hitoshi added as he crumpled the paper and threw it into a nearby trash can. “Not even twenty years and the O5 finally got their very own Lady Nagant! We step out of bounds, and we get our brains blown out in broad daylight, and the O5 is just going to let it happen!”

“Oh c’mon, Hito…” a large, burly man with red hair and a goatee piped up. “The Manticore has to be put on a short leash, right? I’m sure the World Hero Association wouldn’t just let him kill anyone… right?”

“Are you listening to yourself, Eijiro? Did you hear anything at all?”

“Hey, back off!” His wife, Mina spat. “I know that there are things we don’t understand, but there’s no need to be a dick about it!”

“He is not bound by the Geneva Convention, Mina! We have Class A, B, C- the whole goddamn alphabet, war crimes that Manticore can do, and by the looks of it, has already done. I am betting that what we saw last night is just a taste of what he has done, and there is a lot more we don’t know of. A lot more of what he is willing to do!”

“As uncouth as Shinso is, but I must agree with him,” Tenya added as he neatly folded the MOI and tucked it into his shirt’s breast pocket. “We have spent our entire careers hunting down and catching murderers and rapists, sure. But we also had to catch people who have made mistakes, who have been shut out by the society in which our ancestors fought so hard to be accepted by. And I am not confident that the Manticore would also be so merciful to thieves and those who lash out because they are the ones who need the help the most.”

“Yeah, some of the boys at my agency needed second, third, and fourth chances at one point as well. So, what’s the deal there.” Shoji added as he took a careful sip of his teacup. “And he is using the threat of themself as a deterrent against criminals, at what point will it stop being a deterrent and become control via fear?”

“See, Mezo gets it!” Hitoshi exclaimed.

“But what about the truly irredeemable? Kero.” Tsuyu butted in. “Do we just throw them to the deepest pit of Tartarus and let them rot? Even if they truly deserve that, I think it is best to not wait years for a death sentence. Not only that but the last Tartarus Breakout taught us that it isn’t infallible. Kero. And I’m not looking forward to dealing with another potential mass breakout. Isn’t it better to put one in their skulls and pray that they are born less evil and into better circumstances in the next life?”

Ochako blanched at her best friend’s words. Tsu-chan… Is… trying to justify murder?

“Yeah, but don’t you remember the last time one of us decided to take the law into our hands?” a pair of floating thin-rimmed glasses and a pink dress shirt deadpanned, causing everyone to pause.

They all shuddered simultaneously at the memory of what Hanta, one of the two absentees of the meeting, did to Ukon Murisaki, aka the villain Mayhem.

Tsuyu swallowed the bit of bile that was about to rise from the back of her throat. Instead of entertaining Toru’s thought, she decided to change the subject back to the Manticore. “Besides, we are all forgetting what side they are on. We are lucky that they are on our side, not to mention how long we have known about them already. Without them I wouldn’t be alive! He hijacked the coms when Shigaraki tried to kill me at the USJ, kero. And Tenya, the mysterious man who distracted Stain long enough for you to escape with Native during our first internships. Don’t you think that…”

“The Manticore?” The blue-haired hero paused as he thought for a moment. Cat-like motif, use of blades and guns. DING! “You’re right! They were also there at Kamino Ward when we tried to save Bakugou-san! Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, Mineta. You were also there when we confronted him!”

“That was the Manticore?” Momo’s eyes were as wide as saucers, glancing toward her husband who only gave her a quiet side-eye with his mismatched eyes.

“I got my ass kicked by him that day…” Eijiro deflated a bit as he remembered the absolute humiliation the Blackout Hero gave the entire group of hero students back in their first year, prompting Mina to pat him on the back. 

“To be fair, we did attack him first,” Minoru muttered as he continued scrolling on his phone.

“Yeah, but who just stares through a window like a goddamn creep?”

“Enough,” Hitoshi cut through the two’s bickering. “We’re getting off track.”

“If this entire meeting is just you bitching about the Manticore, then I’m out of here,” Katsuki grunted as he stood up.

“This isn’t just about the Manticore, Katsuki, it’s about the O5 allowing that bastard to roam free to begin with!” Ochako scoffed.

“Yeah, whatever. Call me if you get lost!”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Bakugou?” Kyoka asked as she swiveled her chair to follow the figure of the blonde bomber.

“Back to my wife!” Katsuki responded as he walked out the door. “I was cockblocked yesterday by the Manticore’s announcement. So, I got unfinished business!”

“What the fuck, dude.” She blurted out as her face burned in embarrassment causing Denki to chuckle, which awarded him an angry earphone jack to the side.

“Oh, you have got to be KIDDING!” Hitoshi roared as he slammed his fist down on the table. “You of all people… WHERE IS YOUR RAGE, HUH? YOUR FUCKING SELF RESPECT, MAN? THE MANTICORE. SHOT. YOU! AND IF YOU HAD DIED IN ANATO THE PHYSICS DIVISION WOULD’VE COVERED IT UP AND YOU WOULD HAVE LEFT QUEENIE AND CAMIE ALL ALONE WITH NO CLOSURE!”

“SHINSO!” Ochako gasped at how hilariously far the purple-haired Underground Hero overstepped his bounds, as Katsuki paused before he could exit the doorway.

The entire room temperature dropped as Ojiro and Minoru, who sat closest to Hitoshi, rolled away from him as fast as possible, expecting a quick and violent response from the blonde bomber. Most of 1A began to duck and cover, and some began shooting the purplette scathing glares. It was a low blow bringing up Queenie, and he knew that. He just wanted to bring out the Katsuki of old. The one that would take no shit from anyone. Not even from him.

So when Katsuki slowly turned around to stare at Hitoshi with a hauntingly calm expression, everyone expected the worst, but Hitoshi neither backed down nor flinched at the stare-down. He turns back around and slowly closes the door as the atmosphere thickens with tension.

“You know what I think?” He hummed all too calmly turning the lock on the door with a soft, but powerful in the confines of the suffocating meeting room, click.

"I think that WE FUCKING SUCK!" Katsuki finally (figuratively) exploded causing nearly every other hero to jump out of their seats. "It's been 17 years since the end of the Wars and our mentality is already back to square one! We're complacent and incompetent. Most of you bastards hate the Manticore. I don't! He's just a cunt! But we are getting one-upped by a cunt! What the fuck does that say about us? Hell, I’d even say I respect him more before he had the balls to do what we couldn’t!”

“Why did it take 17 years to finally take out Dabi?” He asked while giving a not-so-subtle glance at the direction of Todoroki, who glared in response. “Or why did it take 17 years to put the vampire bitch into the fucking ground.”

Ochako glowered as the same words that both Katsuki and Minoru repeated to her about Himiko being a lost cause, something she always ignored for reasons even unknown to her, began to replay in her mind.

“Why did it take so long for us to do anything huh? Out of everyone who are hero today, it was us, the bright-eyed CHILDREN with dreams of being a hero, who were on the frontlines as we witnessed firsthand what the PLF did to our home. We saw what they did to civilians and heroes.  And most of us saw what they did to All Might and Midnight-sensei.”

Many flinched at the mention of their teachers who died fighting the League and the PLF. The grizzly sight of their corpses are still ingrained into their mind like an ugly scar. To remain there until they take their final breaths.

“My childhood ended when I finally decided to melt Shigaraki’s face off for good because I knew that killing a man isn't a job for a child. And now when someone else finally figures it out, you all want to go back to being ignorant first years! So DON’T TELL ME how I should feel about the Manticore. The reason I was shot was because I did the exact- EXACT thing that the O5 are warning us against at Anato. Even when I had the mind to tear his intestines out, he still shot me in a way that would leave no lasting damage.”

“None of you know for sure what happened at Anato, and don’t try asking about it either, I’m not going to answer. And Eyebags, ” Katsuki venomously spat at Hitoshi as he turned to unlock the door and leave. “If you ever bring up my wife and daughter again, I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

SLAM!

Everyone continued to stare silently at the doorway for a full minute after Katsuki left, leaving them all with much to think about.

“For a guy whose quirk relies on his voice, you should keep your mouth shut sometimes, mon ami …” a lean man with slicked-back golden blonde hair that seemed to sparkle naturally sighed as he rested his chin on the back of his hands. “Otherwise, someone is going to end up breaking your jaw…”

“Shut up, Aoyama.”

“There is a familiar darkness looming over Bakugou,” a man with the head of a corvid with a chipped beak hummed, snapping everyone out of their thoughts.

“MERDE!” Aoyama shrieked in fright. “How long were you there for, Fumi-kun?”

“I have been here this entire time,” Fumikage sweat dropped before shaking his head. “Regardless, where he usually reeks of rage and annoyance has been replaced with sorrow and guilt, just like in our first year at UA.”

Hm… Then it seems that Bakugou knows more than he is leading us to believe… Hitoshi narrowed his eyes but decided to remain quiet. I will keep this in mind…

“In any case, whether we like it or not,” Momo shot a look at both Hitoshi and Shoto. “There is a new player on the field…”

Izuku stared into his reflection in his freshly installed mirror. The glass shards of the last mirror’s remains have long since been swept up and disposed of, as is his shower curtain when all of the rings snapped off when the green-haired man fell backward days prior.

Every time he closes his eyes, he can faintly see the visage of the monster that replaced him in his vision.

He sighed, dragging his eyes away from the mirror, turning to put on the lion mask as he exited his bathroom.

“And this memorandum wasn’t written only for the self-interest of the Overseer Council, the Commission, or the Association. But the safety of everyone else within it.”

All was quiet in the city as the giants made of concrete, steel, and glass loomed over it, blocking the pale light of the glowing full moon overhead with its overbearing presence. The Manticore stared up at the celestial body for a moment as it was the thing that called upon the nighttime.

The time for villains to crawl out of their holes.

The time for the Manticore to reign in blood.

“If the entire Hero Association and Commission seem to trust them, then we must do so as well. We must also learn how to cooperate with them, no matter how depraved they seem to be. And if not… well…” Momo sighed. “We have seen what he is capable of already.” 

The Manticore overlooked the entire city skyline. Ready. Waiting. A cat ready to pounce on its prey, a metasoma curling to strike...

So would the Manticore die without a cause? 

He takes in a sharp breath as he looks up into the black void that stretches on for infinity.

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!

Or would he show no mercy to the wicked?

End of Chapter 8

April 22nd, 2233
Tokyo, Japan

Hanta Sero, aka the Taping Hero: Cellophane, let out a sharp sigh as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. He stood in the study of his apartment, once teeming with life, now cold and desolate, on the weekdays at least.

Ever since he… “lost his cool” with Uko- no, Mayhem, two years prior, he has become an outcast even his own found family in 1A. Even worse, his own family, much less his now ex-wife can no longer even look at him in the eyes anymore for what he did.

But he will never regret doing it. Even when the media circus turned Mayhem into a martyr. Even when the general people called for Hanta to be thrown into Tartarus for the rest of his life, because “how can Ukon Murisaki do any wrong?”

Fucking pieces of shit… Was an unpaid suspension not enough for these clowns? If they saw what I saw, they would have been helping me crucify his rotting corpse again!

“Our heroes cannot be trusted to do what is necessary to offer permanent solutions to the problem of villainy, so I have decided to step up for them.  And if those in power, those who claim to be on the side of justice try to stop me… I’ll kill them, all of them.”

The Manticore, huh… He almost smiled behind his whisky glass as he took a sip, grimacing at how roughly it felt against his tongue and esophagus. Now there’s a son of a bitch who gets it…

Some monsters in the world don’t deserve a second chance, just like Mayhem. Eventually, there will be a day when they decide to not come out of their sticking shitholes. And that is when people like the Manticore will go in and flush them out anyway if the people who are willing to cross the line by themselves don’t get to them first. All it takes is fear and a little focused violence.

I wonder what he would have done if he was the one hunting Mayhem… Probably no worse than what I did. However, the programming proceeded as scheduled before Hanta could fantasize about it further.

“Next on Shoowaysha Today, an introspection to the murder of Ukon Murisaki by the hands of the Taping Hero: Cellophane that rocked Japan.” No… “Ukon Murisaki was a pioneer in giving children with mutant quirks, ‘villainous’ quirks, and the quirkless the same necessities during a time when the government gave these poor children a blind eye. Only for his reputation to be irreversibly tarnished by claims of him being a predatory sex offender-”

Hanta tuned out the rest of the horseshit broadcast as he stormed up to his phone, completely missing a barely visible figure in the darkest corner of his office, garbed in all black with a balaclava that covered most of their face, except for their dark green eyes staring at the Taping Hero with disdain.

“Oi. Have you been watching Shoowaysha Today? Because I’ve been watching it. They are trying to paint Mayhem into a fucking SAINT again!” He seethed into his phone after punching in the number to his lawyers. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the other end. Only to run out of patience completely, smashing the glass in his hand onto the floor. “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF WITNESS TESTIMONIES ARE THE WEAKEST FORM OF EVIDENCE IN COURT. WHEN YOU HAVE AT LEAST FIFTY, FIFTY CHILDREN COME FORWARD AND SAY YOU ARE A MONSTER, THEN THERE HAS TO BE SOME TRUTH TO THE MATTER BECAUSE MOST FOUR-YEAR-OLDS DON’T EVEN KNOW THE CONCEPT OF LYING!”

“Tell them to pull the programming, or I am going to sue the absolute dogshit out of them a second time!” He slammed down his phone onto the table, letting out a long, guttural groan of impatience. “Damn it.”

However, he freezes when he hears a second set of breaths behind him. He tried to look as best he could behind without swiveling his head a centimeter. Feminine breathing patterns. But it’s too deep, too quick. It’s neither Gamo-chan nor Myukuru…

He clenched his hand, preparing his elbows to dispense his quirk. Immediately he snapped around firing off his tape in different directions, all aiming for the smallest, yet heaviest, foreign objects around him. “TRI-”

The figure was in front of him now.

Hanta widened his eyes and tried to jump backward-

CRACK!

A hammer smashed into the side of Hanta’s head, sending him to the ground, landing face-first on the shattered remains of the glass he had been drinking from previously, and leaving a massive bleeding dent in his skull. The assailant immediately got onto her hands and knees to continue to bludgeon him…

CRACK!

Over.

CRACK!

Over.

CRACK!

And over again.

CRACK!

Eventually, a valley was formed where the Taping Hero’s brains used to be. Leaking out dark crimson fluid and gray matter began to flow out like a leaking tap. The assailant sat on their knees, breathing heavily as they stared down at the fallen hero. They turned to look at the tape, pathetically draped across the ground. His last shot of desperation.

Ultimately futile.

Whether he died upon the initial impact of the strike, or when she continued the beat down. It doesn't matter.

Hehehehehehe. She began to giggle quietly to herself, but in mere moments it turned into maniacal laughter. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

She continued to laugh unimpeded as she grabbed the tape and began pulling, admiring how it was still dispensing even after death.  

“I hope you’re proud of me, Manticore-kun…”

[Ending Song: Savior  – By Rise Against]

End of the PLF Extinction Saga

Chapter Text

The Manticore in Kitty’s Clothing

Chapter 9: Killing in the Name Of…

[Opening Song: Papermoon - By RichaadEB feat. Lollita]

April 24th, 2233
Tokyo, Japan

Naomasa Tsukauchi was many things. Hardworking, loyal to the side of justice, and one who upheld truth even in the most difficult and darkest of times. A True Man, if you will. He was the one who personally led the arrest of most of the Hero Public Safety Commission (or rather what was left of them) for their crimes after the Wars concluded. For this, he was offered a seat on the newly established Overseers Council, which he declined in favor of continuing his career in the police force, which seems to be going well as he was now the Commissioner of the Musutafu Police Department, now grey and old.

But there was one thing he was never ready for.

Ready to see the call that one of the heroes he had been working quite closely with for the past decade was dead. It wasespecially hard when they were killed, harder so when it wasn’t in the line of duty. It was just another murder that could’ve happened to anyone in any place.

“Commissioner.” And… There was the other thing he was not prepared for…

Out from the shadows like an unholy creature of the night, the Manticore slowly approached the Commissioner, decked out entirely in black, covered in magazines and individual rounds of ammo, and countless weapons on every inch of his body.

The O5 notified him that the murder of Cellophane had become Class S Sensitivity, as most, if not all, heroes in the immediate vicinity were far too close to the fallen hero to investigate his death properly. For that, the Manticore was called in.

Naomasa’s mouth immediately went dry in the presence of the Blackout Hero. Unfortunately, he was awake when the broadcast hijacking occurred. The methods by which the Manticore enacted his justice were brutal, to say the least. So long as he didn’t stray from his promise to do so in the interest of the innocent, he wouldn’t complain, let alone push back against him.

“Manticore,” the Commissioner grunted, gesturing toward the back door of the locked-down apartment complex. “This way.”

They both proceeded to walk into the abode in silence, scaling the stone stairs. Their footsteps, a single pair, reverberated, the only thing to fill the dreaded silence of what they were about to encounter. As they reached the top, the Commissioner grabbed the door handle and turned to the Blackout Hero. “You ready?”

The Manticore let out a guttural noise. Naomasa didn’t know whether it was a low hum of approval or a growl of annoyance or agitation.

Not many things could scare Naomasa, not after everything he had seen and been through. But having someone so unhinged trailing him, especially one he couldn’t form a case against should he proceed to crash out completely, made the Commissioner much jumpier than usual. He shook his head and opened the door anyway, poignantly walking through first.

CREAK…

Immediately, all eyes were on them…

Or rather, on the Manticore.

The duo walked down the narrow corridor, passing police, paramedics, and other costumed heroes. All were staring at the Blackout Hero, expressions all ranging between gaping in fear and seething with anger, some mouthing curses as he passed. The Manticore paid them no mind, pushing through the crowd to get to the crime scene.

Making his way to the large office of the apartment suite, the Manticore found himself staring at the corpse of who he assumed was Cellophane himself, wrapped tightly like a mummy in his tape, which slowly corroded from a silverish grey to a dark red color. He squinted his eyes at the sight of the tape’s color. The tape produced by Sero was usually clear and thin, like cellophane, so it, being red, appeared unnatural to the Blackout Hero.

But so was getting murdered in your own home.

“What do we know?” Naomasa asked aloud.

“Um…” The Manticore turned to see a woman with dark blue hair and wearing pink-framed glasses holding a large camera staring up at him with eyes winded in shock.

“Detective…”

“I- um… Uh…” The CSI cleared her throat as she regained composure, shining a flashlight at the mummified hero’s head. “The pooling around the head area suggested blunt force trauma to the occipital and parietal lobes of the skull which was further reinforced when we found the suspected murder weapon.”

She gestured to a corner of the room, where a bloodied hammer, covered in chunks of flesh, clumps of hair, and fragments of skull lay unceremoniously on the ground.

“How did they get in?”

Shivers were sent down the spines of all that heard his question. The bespectacled CSI wilted under the pressure of having to speak to the Manticore directly. “Th- Through the window, as it was opened when first responders arrived.”

The Manticore immediately stalked toward the windowsill carefully so as not to contaminate the crime scene. Naomasa continued to analyze the body, sighing with a heady heart as he tried to treat Sero like any other body he had investigated throughout his career. “Poor kid, how long was he like this for?”

“Well, seeing as the last person who talked to him alive was his lawyer on Saturday before midnight. So, at most… two days, up to now.” She then extends a gaudy pink envelope sealed shut by a single heart-shaped sticker to the commissioner. “This was found taped onto the body.”

Naomasa turned the envelope around, shining his flashlight over it to read what it said.

‘Don’t open unless you are Manticore-kun!’

The Commissioner immediately sneered in mild disgust at the love letter from one sociopath to another, turning to the recipient. “It’s for you.”

The Manticore looked up from the ground he was so focused on inspecting, looking down at the envelope in Naomasa’s hand, only to give what the commissioner assumed was a flat look. One indicative of ‘you’re kidding me, right?’

Naomasa gave him a slight shrug just as the Blackout Hero snatched it from out of his hands, strategically turning around to read it in the event it was laced in anthrax or porn. Or both. The commissioner and the CSI stood around awkwardly as the Manticore continued to read, the tension in the room growing higher and thicker as he slowly turned his body around, staring at the two MPD members with a swiveling head.

“What…”

.

.

.

“… am I reading?”

The Manticore shoved the love letter into the commissioner’s chest, storming away.

“What? What’s on it?” He asked, stunned as both he and the CSI looked over it.

“Most of it is fucking bullshit. It’s not even a cipher. Just the ramblings of a lunatic. Until the last line.”

And holy shit, he was right because none of it made any goddamn sense. It was a jumbled mess of intelligible scribbling, bloodthirsty moaning, and excessive undertones of lust, except for the very bottom of the letter.

I am purging those in power who killed the innocent, untouchable by the law. Just as you would too. I am killing in the name of the Manticore. I cant wait to see you soon.

Love,
Giggles

“Shit… Giggles.” Naomasa gasped under his breath as the CSI looked at him wide-eyed.

Giggles was a serial killer not too dissimilar to Himiko Toga. Her girlish behavior only acted as a mask to their hatred and bloodlust, finding pleasure (in more ways than one) in devising the most entertaining way to kill someone.

Unlike Himiko Toga, however, her identity remained a complete mystery, though her personality and patterns she left behind at crime scenes suggested she was female.

Even the most attentive and intelligent heroes still hadn’t deciphered her MO, as each murder committed by Giggles was radically different from the last. At times, it was unclear if Giggles was a single person or different people taking up the mantle occasionally.

Everything about Giggle was… a mess…

Her inactivity in recent months suggested she either died or quit somewhere in the past few months.

But it appeared that she had found her second wind.

“Do we know of Giggles’s quirk?”

“No, she is a complete mystery. Why?”

The Manticore stared at a pair of footprints highlighted in dust on the ground. “There are footprints here by the window. But no trail to the body.”

“We believe it’s Giggles’s, but we have no idea how she was able to get from here to here.” The detective pointed at the wrapped corpse of Cellophane. “I hypothesize that she has a floating quirk or a jumping-related one.”

“The ceiling is too low, and the foot placement is too close together for a jump quirk.”

“What about a stretching quirk?” Naomasa suggested.

“That’s far too slow. And most stretch quirks lose limb strength the farther they stretch.”

“So how could Giggles get from point A to point B, seemingly without moving an inch?”

The Manticore unsheathed his katana and lined it perfectly between the footprints by the window. He crouched, looking at it from the blunt end of the handle, the tip pointed between two other footprints right in front of Cellophane.

Perfectly aligned, perfectly parallel.

“Teleportation, instant transmission.”

Both officers’ eyes widened.

“Holy crap…” Naomasa exhaled, flashing his light over the two pairs of footprints, eyeing how well-aligned they were. “She could’ve gone anywhere else in the room to blindside him, but it looks like she could only go forward. Right?”

The Manticore didn’t respond. Not even a deep hum.

Perplexed, Naomasa looked behind him, finding the Manticore looking at something on the ground.

Pointing his flashlight to the ground, the commissioner realized what the Blackout Hero was staring at.

A small, bloody shoe print.

The commissioner cleared his throat, frowning deeply as he approached the Blackout Hero, leaning in. “His daughter found him.”

The Manticore remained silent…

His participation in the immediate investigation of the crime scene only lasted a few more minutes before he silently exited. His thoughts were stewing on the single, bloodied footprint on the ground.

Another child robbed of their innocence. I should’ve expected as much…

No child should know that their parent’s life was taken.

No child should ever be the first one to find out for themselves.

It’s only a cycle to him now. One that, at least in this instance, he perpetuated, even if inadvertently.

‘I am killing in the name of the Manticore.’

His presence should not be justification for the criminally insane to view themselves in a righteous light. Their thoughts and morals are skewed and deadly. They do not have the clearance to be.

They are not the Manticore.

He sighed as he pressed the bar on the emergency backdoor, finding himself in the alley where he was before…

… This time face-to-face with multiple underground heroes and police.

“Hey, hey, hey!” One of them angrily snarled. “Who the hell invited them?”

Well, there’s one he can identify by the voice alone. Hitoshi Shinso, Requiem.

“Requiem,” Pluton snapped as he put a hand on his fellow purplette’s shoulder. “I know you’re angry about Sero, but you need to keep yourself leveled.”

“Fuck being leveled, man.” Requiem smacked the hand of his colleague off his shoulder. “I’ll level out once he explains why that letter was addressed to him. What did it say?”

“It was jargon.”

“Yeah?” a dark-skinned police officer responded mockingly. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Enough,” Pluton said firmly. “We each got that MOI from the O5. We are not to get in his way. We are not to antagonize. You got it? Requiem, you got it?”

"Quite a big gun you got there,” Requiem couldn’t help himself but remark with a bitter, shit-eating smirk as he stared at the revolving cylinder shotgun, much to the annoyance of Pluton.  “Compensating for something?"

"Yeah, weak heroes," the Manticore jabbed back.

“What?” “Huh?” “What- What the fuck he say?” the underground heroes huffs in confusion and outrage.

“You mother-”

 Requiem immediately rushed at the Blackout Hero in a blind rage with his fist cocked back. Slipping past Pluton as he threw a right hook at the Manticore, only for him to weave out of the way before slamming his fist into the underground hero’s throat in retaliation.

Pandemonium.

In an instant, all the heroes and police pile onto the two to separate them, with Pluton screaming. “ALL RIGHT, THE BOTH OF YOU. KNOCK IT ON THE HEADS, NOW!”

The Manticore immediately backed away, with Requiem collapsing into the arms of some officers, gripping his throat, wide-eyed. A high-pitched, concerning whistle accompanied each labored breath he took. The son of a bitch… broke my windpipe…

Silence, broken up by Requiem's wheezing, reigned over the crowd as everyone stared at the Blackout Hero with more disgust and rage.

The Manticore’s attention was pulled away by a figure’s shadow casting into the alley. Turning his head, he found a girl no older than seven peering into the alley in curiosity. Her sky-blue hair was disheveled, her eyes were puffy, and she was wrapped in a blanket. What drew the Blackout Hero’s attention the most was her white shoes, marred by drying, stained blood.

“His daughter found him,” Tsukauchi’s words echoed in his mind.

Live in Fear – Mark Crozer

The little girl’s expression… He had seen it too many times before. The empty gaze of despair and hopelessness.

From Kota. From Eri. From Mahoro and Katsuma…

From himself…

“I hope… you’re… happy…” Requiem choked, inhaling deeply and brokenly. “You fucking… freak…”

The Manticore could only turn and walk away.

Click, click, click…

Izuku sighed, taking off his reading glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose out of exhaustion.

Ever since his investigation into the Cellophane Murder, he had been relentlessly scouring the Quirk Registry Index like a bloodhound, skimming through the archives to narrow down and find his suspect. He hasn’t even changed out of his Blackout Hero suit nor washed the thickly and messily applied face paint, streaking down his face from sweat.

Quirks come with a wide variety of stipulations and caveats, and instant transport-type quirks are no exception. For example, Kurogiri, the once trusty getaway man for the League of Villains. His Black Fog quirk can teleport people from point A to B, however, it was slow and coordinate-based.

Giggles’s quirks seemed instant as Cellophane attempted to fight back but was outsped by the murderer. And it was also probably either linear or sight-based. An instant transportation quirk only capable of going in a single direction without much room for error. But even with the Index in front of him, Izuku still couldn’t narrow it down without getting a ‘No Results Found.’

He needed another way to narrow down the search without neutering his efforts.

He thought back to the letter. As terribly written as it was, the last line was too well written to be psychotic gibberish.

‘I am purging those in power who killed the innocent, untouchable by the law. Just as you would too.’

The question remained. “What did Cellophane do?”

I’ve been out of the country for too long. I am so out of the loop… And I can't ask anyone who worked closely alongside him…

BUT! There is one…

Immediately, Izuku grabbed the old encrypted phone, punching in a number before holding it up to his ear.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

CLICK!

“Who the fuck is this?” an angry voice growled, “How’d you get this number? If this is another prank call I’m gonna-”

“Kacchan, it’s me.”

“… Deku?”

“Yeah. I’m on a secure line right now, meant only for use by Blackout Heroes,” he explained. “I need information, and you’re probably the only person who can give it to me now. At least, unbiasedly.”

“Okay… What do you need to know?” his best friend asked.

“Cellophane. Giggles, his murderer, was trying to justify murdering him by saying that he killed an innocent person. What could she have been alluding to?” Izuku paused to allow Katsuki to respond, but after a few moments of silence, he reverted to whining like Deku. “Kacchan, please…”

The green-haired man smiled as he heard a deep, long sigh at the other end of the line.

“Okay.” The blonde bomber tsked. “Two years ago, Eyebaga- No. Let me start again.” Izuku spun his chair slowly as he listened to Katsuki take some calming breaths.

“Requiem, Minerva, and Hanta were investigating a serial killer that would specifically target orphans… The fucker called himself ‘Mayhem.’ He left a lot of cryptic shit to make fun of the heroes investigating him. They figured out where all the kids were coming from. Orphanages run by a guy named Ukon Murisaki, a big-shot politician who made a name for himself for ‘fighting for the Mutants and Quirkless’ or some dogshit two-faced reason like that. A sting led by Lemillion on one of Murisaki’s orphanages found out the truth about what was happening behind the scenes. And, oh my God, Deku, it was much worse than mass murder. Far fucking worse… I-”

He gagged on the other end.

Children. It is always his luck that everything revolves around children with Izuku.

“Oh, God. They were being tortured there, Izuku. Physically, mentally, and sexually by Mayhem himself. Hundreds of kids, Deku, FOUR YEAR OLDS. It was supposed to be a fast and simple court case and death sentence for Mayhem. But Soy Face was the only one of the three with a kid. A daughter the same age as these kids… Hanta saw what those kids had to go through and then wondered what would have happened if it was his daughter instead… So, he took personal offense. He kidnapped Murisaki from his cell in the middle of the night and proceeded to torture him in almost the same ways he tortured the kids… For 38 hours… And once he was done, he wrapped Mayhem up in tape, leaving him to rot. He died of suffocation.” Katsuki sighed again, shakily, almost like he had aged thirty years in a single moment. “It was the shitshow of the century. Protests and riots happened because everyone believed Murisaki was innocent. Hanta had his license suspended for a year, and he was banned from the 1-Alliance because of it.”

“You think what Cellophane did was justified?”

“I mean… I’m certainly not fucking angry that somebody personally sent Mayhem to Hell wrapped like a Christmas gift. But that should have been a job for the hangman. Or you.”

Izuku’s lips perk up into a smile before reverting to his analytical expression. “So, Giggles might be a supporter of Murisaki getting retribution,”

“Who knows? I’m not the one fucking investigating this now, am I?” Katsuki snarked. “I’m sure you got this locked in. Besides, I don’t want to think about this more than I already have. I just got back from the funeral procession, and I am fucking exhausted.”

“Thanks for the help, Kacchan.”

“Whatever…” But as Izuku was about to hang up, Katsuki’s voice cut through. “Oh, wait. Before you go, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I saw Eyebags at the funeral with bandages on his throat, talking like he swallowed glass. Yapping something about the Manticore. I don’t know. I didn’t listen to most of what the fucker had to say. What happened?”

“Requiem? Well, he didn’t like my presence at the crime scene. He talked. I matched his energy… And he took exception to that. So, we got into a scuffle, where I ended up punching him in his throat.”

“PFFFFFFT-” Izuku winces at the volume of Katsuki’s hollering laughter, one he had never seen before from the blonde bomber, even as kids. There was something so un-Katsuki-like about it. “Oh, oh. Man, that was a good one.”

“You alright?”

“Hehe, yeah. He’s just been pissing me off a lot. Better yet, his ass got suspended because of it. HAHA!”

Izuku’s eyes widen. “He what?”

CLICK!

The call cut off, leaving Izuku to blink at what had just happened. He sighed deeply, throwing his phone haphazardly on his desk before resting his chin on his hand. Requiem getting suspended wasn’t in his plans, even if the underground hero was an asshole. Who wouldn’t be when someone close to you was killed, and you can do nothing about it?

The only reason he was the Manticore was because of it…

It was his only way to regain control of his fate…

… sniff, sniff!

“Ugh!”

And it was at that moment that the smell of his own body odor finally caught up to him, making him grimace. I need a shower…

April 25th, 2233
Yokohama, 10 Minutes from “Ground Zero”

A stone's throw away from the scene of Hanta Sero’s murder, the Manticore walked the dark alleyways of Kamino Ward.

The sight of the final, climactic battle between the Symbol of Peace, All Might, and All For One had become a tourism hub over the years. It experienced a rapid increase in population, which was once considered impossible due to the severe destruction of the area at that time.

On the very outskirts of ‘Ground Zero,’ however, things were different.

Crime was rampant, and the infrastructure was worn down and desacrated. The daylight heroes were more interested in protecting the wealthy business center than the slums, where their protection is most needed. Where the glow of the streetlights doesn’t shine, evil lurks. But so do the underground heroes.

And so does the Manticore.

“HELP! HELP!” a desperate plea echoed as a man sprinted down an alley, with a group of young men chasing after him with sadistic looks on their faces.

“WHERE YOU GOING, QUIRKLESS?”

“YEAH, LITTLE SHITS LIKE YOU SHOULD LEARN TO RESPECT YOUR SUPERIORS!”

“SLOW DOWN OR WE’LL BEAT YOU HARDER!”

One of them shot a nail from his finger, which was connected to a chain in between the feet of the fleeing man, causing him to trip over his two feet. His face slamed hard onto the concrete, snapping his glasses in half and breaking his nose. He cried in pain but quickly pushed himself off the ground to stumble forward to resume his running, but he was tackled back onto the asphalt by one of his pursuers. He tried to crawl away desperately but was grabbed by the back of his now-ruined shirt and pinned against the wall.

“I’m sorry! Please, I want to go home.” The man shook violently as two pairs of arms held him in place.

“Yeah?” the leader of the gang, a man with a jet-black mushroom cap on his head and glowing red eyes sneered. “And where do you live?”

“S- Seiiki…”

“Seiiki? No shit.” The mushroom cap and his boys laughed loudly until he SLAMMED his fist into the poor man’s stomach, causing him to wheeze and dry heave as all the air left his body. “Seiiki is still part of my territory, and I heard rumors that a quirkless faggot was living in it, thinking shit was sweet. Well, it ain’t. And I am going to show you what happens when there are quirkless in places they shouldn’t be.”

Mushroom cap clenched his fist, admiring the iridescent pink cracks that began to form all the way down to his elbow. He smiled widely, reeling his fist back-

“CHISHI, WATCH OUT-”

A figure dropped down from the rooftops that flank the alley, knocking one of the gang members to the ground as they pushed away their leader.

Pluton immediately smashed the end of his staff into the temple of the gang member, knocking him out instantly, but he internally cursed himself as the guy he had just knocked out prevented him from reaching the hostage, who was now in the clutches of another, bigger thug.

“Let that man go,” he rumbled darkly, gripping his staff with a new intensity.

“Nuh-uh, we don’t want to lose our heads now, do we?” Chishi, the leader of the thugs, smirked as his goon turned his arms into large blades reminiscent of a Chinese Dao, pressing it dangerously close to the carotid artery of the quirkless man.

“Let’s do it then,” Pluton snarled, pressing a button that caused a long spike to protrude from the end of his staff, almost into the larynx of the knocked-out goon. “You kill my guy. I turn yours into a shish kebob!”

“YOU AIN’T GOT WHAT IT TAKES, HERO!” Chishi exploded. “NO HERO WORTH THEIR SALT WOULDN’T SO MUCH AS CONSIDER KILLING AFTER THE WAR. SO, WHAT’S IT GONNA BE?”

They all jeered.

Pluton couldn’t help but growl in response. They were right; retribution killing isn’t the way and will never be. But if he doesn’t do something now, their hostage will die.

At that moment, his eyes widened. He couldn’t help but take an unconscious step backward as a terror loomed over him suffocatingly, as something… someone was present that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.

“What’s wrong, hero? Suddenly got cold feet?”

“Nah,” Pluton responded flatly, pointing a finger at something past them. “I just saw him.”

The thugs blink in confusion until a loud crunch and ear-piercing shriek reverberates behind them.

“WHAT THE HELL?” They gasped, turning to find the Manticore holding the now broken arm of the hostage-holding, blade-armed man. It snapped in such a way that the bone tore through the skin, and his entire forearm was dangling by just the tiniest bit of flesh.

Immediately, the Blackout Hero followed it up by grabbing the man by the side of his head and viciously smashing it  into the brick wall until he stopped screaming and slumped forward. Side-stepping the falling gangster, he began to put paws on the next, still shell-shocked gangster, punching him in the stomach, causing his vision to immediately flicker and lurch forward, where he instantly fell into a one-two punch that cracked both cheekbones. But, before he could completely lose consciousness, the Manticore grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed him down onto his knees.

CRUNCH! Once.

CRUNCH! Twice.

CRUNCH! Three times…

The next gangster finally snapped out of it enough to pull a knife out for an overhead stab, but it was sloppy and untrained, which was quickly blocked by the Manticore. The gangster tried to throw a haymaker in response, but it, too, was blocked by the Manticore’s elbow.

The Blackout Hero proceeded to then beat the absolute breaks off of the knife-wielding gangster, elbowing him in the face back and forth, an uppercut directly into the chin, sending teeth exploding out of his mouth, a punch into the cheek capitalized by yet another elbow. The gangster was utterly dazed and teetering on the realms of earth and unconsciousness. The Manticore punched him in the face three more times, finally knocking the knife wielder out.

“You son of a bitch-” Chishi snarled after seeing all his boys get absolutely demolished and reeled his fist back, where the cracks began to glow brighter than ever before. “I AM GOING TO INCINERATE YOU-”

THUNK!

Chishi immediately crumpled to the ground, almost like a puppet after its strings were cut. He was so focused on killing the Manticore that he completely forgot about Pluton, who was still behind him. One clean strike to the back of the head with his staff was all it took to put down the thug.

After recomposing a few seconds, Pluton knelt down to tend to the shaken-up hostage. “You all right?”

But the man wasn’t even remotely looking at Pluton nor paying attention to his question.

Instead, all his attention was glued to the dark figure behind the underground hero.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

Pluton hesitated. He pressed his lips into a thin line under his yellow scarf. Turning around, he saw the Blackout Hero standing in the darkness, looking away from the injured man. Whether out of shame or apathy, Pluton didn’t know.

It’s hard to gauge the Manticore anyway. Even without trying to use the look on his face, which hid behind the always snarling, always angry face of the lion, everything else about him was a complete mystery. His body language is always braced, ready for anything that could and would be thrown at him. But that’s it. No indication of thought or personality lies in his posture. And Pluton didn’t find that comforting in the slightest.

The question remained, though. Was the Manticore even somewhat benevolent? Or was the destruction of evil all he craves?

Speaking of destruction.

“Oktober, this is Pluton!” he called into his radio. “I have five injured, all to be taken into custody and one saved hostage.”

“Roger.”

Within moments, a grotesque mass of tentacles came slithering down from the rooftops, dropping into the alleyway before the King of the Underground. A few loose rags enraptured the eldritch horror and transformed into a more humanoid appearance.

Oktober wore a long, tattered trench coat with orange accents all the way down to the ground. His entire head was covered by a pickelhaube (German spike helmet) that completely obscured his face, except for two yellow glowing dots that were his eyes. The German-themed hero looked between Pluton and the Manticore, only for him to do a double-take at the presence of the Blackout Hero.

“What the-”

“Oktober, focus,” Pluton snapped his eldritch protégé out of his shock.

“Yes, sir!” Oktober immediately turned toward the shaken hostage, keeping his distance even as the rest of his tentacles bustled around him. Despite his nightmarish form, he kept his distance, consoling the downed man with a soft voice and reassuring words.

The Manticore watched in fascination as some tentacles were dispatched to apply a tourniquet on the gangster whose arm was forcefully snapped in two by the Blackout Hero.  He made a mental note to himself to interview Oktober personally as Izuku Midoriya, already forming a series of hypotheses on how each tentacle acted so independently yet still in tandem with each other.

“Was that all really necessary?” The Manticore turned to look down at Pluton, leaning toward him, whispering critically.

“It wouldn’t have been if you saved the hostage first.”

Silence lapsed between them, and Pluton nodded. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

The Manticore didn’t respond, only turning to walk out of the alley, leaving Pluton behind. The King of the Underground glanced between the Manticore and Oktober. Scratching the back of his head, he turned to the eldritch hero.

“You got this, Oktober?”

“Y- Yeah.”

“You sure you good?”

“Yes, I am fine. It’s just,” Oktober gestured at the figure of the Manticore with one of his tentacles.

Pluton sighed, very much understanding the hesitation in his subordinate. “I get it.”

“You know what to do. I’ll be back. I gotta talk with this guy real quick,” Pluton said, jutting his thumb out to point at the Manticore.

The Eldritch hero nodded and returned to work as the King of the Underground quickly left to catch up with the Blackout Hero. “Hey, wait up!”

The Manticore paused, turning to look at the underground hero as he rapidly approached.

“I thought you’d be more uncertain to work with me after last night.”

“Nah. I don’t care about what happened last night or what happened to the three you killed a couple of weeks back. That’s none of my business. Even if I don’t like you, I won’t let my emotions get in the way of work, no matter how personal it gets,” Pluton replied with a slight groan, slowing down. “But I’m trying to figure out why you came all the way out to No Man’s Land. It isn’t just to fight some lowlife scum. Right? That doesn’t seem like your job. And aren’t you in the middle of investigating Hant- Cellophane’s murder?”

“I am.” The Manticore responded curtly. “I came here to surveil Chiyoko Yoshinaga.”

Pluton tilted his head like a confused puppy. “The… lawyer?”

“She was Cellophane’s lawyer during his case for the kidnapping and murder of Ukon Murasaki. I believe she is the next target.”

“That makes sense. Do you need assistance?”

The Manticore stayed silent for a few moments in what seemed to be contemplation. “She lives a few blocks away.”

“Alright,” Pluton responded as the Manticore continued his trek, this time with some assistance.

The two stalked the darkness of the No Man’s Land, making it to the apartment building where Chiyoko Yoshinaga lived. Pluton paused to get a good look at the building from the outside.

The state of the structure left much to be desired, although, in its defense, the rest of the area was incredibly shabby. The concrete was stained and cracked, seemingly on the verge of becoming condemned, and the only thing distracting from the filth was all the graffiti that lined the walls within human reach.

This used to be a lovely city. Now it’s a ghost town. Minoru frowned. “What makes someone of Yoshinaga’s stature to live here of all places.”

“She was blacklisted by most firms for being Cellophane’s attorney.”

“Ah, make sense…” The Underground hero sighed. Poor woman. Condemned to poverty for being hired to do her goddamn job.

The Manticore began to approach the building, Pluton trailing right behind him. They entered the outdoor courtyard, ignoring all the homeless and drugged-out dregs sleeping and loitering around the barren planters. So long as they don’t maliciously bother or hurt anyone, Minoru doesn’t care; they're just trying their best to get by.

They proceeded to scale the grimy steps of the exposed stairway, but as they approached the quarter landing, a beggar reached his hand out.

“Spare some yen, please? Can you-” The Manticore paused and stared at him. The beggar blinked. “Ya know what? Never mind.”

He stood up and tramped past the two, down the steps from which they came, with a haunted expression.

They continued without another interruption, finally finding themselves at the door of the disgraced lawyer’s apartment.

“How do you even know if she is even home?” Pluton asked.

The Manticore paused momentarily and considered his words before detaching a tablet from his waist. As the Blackout Hero booted up the device, Pluton leaned toward him, trying to look at what was on the screen. The Manticore pointed the device at the door, staring at the dark green screen, where a single lime dot appeared before disappearing and reappearing again.

“What’s that?” The Underground Hero asked.

“Heartbeat sensor,” the Manticore responded, handing Pluton the device so he could look at the dim glow of the green screen. “Someone is inside.”

Knock, knock, knock.

The Manticore rapped his knuckles on the wooden door and waited.

…

No response.

Knock, knock, knock!

He tried again with a little bit more urgency.

…

And once again, no one responds.

“No movement, but the blip is still there…” Pluton whispered.

The Manticore turned to the underground hero and gesticulated his head toward the door, indicating that Pluton should knock instead. He walked up to the door carefully but firmly knocked.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Chiyoko Yoshinaga! I am Pluton, a registered underground hero. Open the door. We need to speak to you!” the hero called out.

Nothing.

“We’re going in,” The Manticore responded, reaching to his utility belt and pulling out a trigger-action lockpick and driver.

He stuck the driver into the keyhole slot and pushed the lockpick into the slot above, squeezing the trigger a few times. He pulled back the lockpick and turned the driver, unlocking the door.

Click!

The Manticore put away the lockpick device, reached behind him, and pulled out his street sweeper shotgun, loading green shells into its chamber’s rotating cylinder.

“Is that necessary?” Pluton asked, wondering why the Manticore was using such a destructive and penetrative weapon in a CQC situation with other people living on the premises.

“Birdshot, low pen,” the Blackout Hero responded. “I like to keep this for close encounters.”

Mineta only rolled his eyes in response. After all, in any one-on-one conversation, it's best not to argue with the guy holding a shotgun.

“Hold onto that,” said the Manticore, pointing at the heartbeat sensor in Pluton’s hand before carefully turning the doorknob, allowing the two inside.

As the Blackout Hero and Underground hero proceeded into the darkness, Pluton kept his eye on the screen, trusting that the Manticore would be his eyes and ears as they crept closer and closer to the beating green dot that was, supposedly, Chiyoko Yoshinaga.

Slowly, they approached the closed door to the single bedroom.

The Manticore pointed the muzzle of his shotgun toward the crook of the door, reaching and grabbing onto the handle, but not before glancing at Pluton, who gave a nod, indicating he was ready.

Creak…

The Blackout Hero immediately checked the flanks of the door and the blind spot behind the door of threats. After ensuring it was clear, he immediately strolled toward the bed…

… only to find the pale corpse of a cherry red-haired woman. Her throat was thoroughly slashed, her crimson blood staining the white of her sheets. The Manticore lowered the shotgun from the dead woman’s face to stare at it, letting out a massive sigh of disappointment. Shit.

…

Beep, beep…

…

Beep, beep…

The Manticore turned to look at Pluton. The ball-haired hero was looking down at the heartbeat sensor with wide eyes.

Black orbs meet the empty black visor.

“Someone’s in the closet.”

The Blackout Hero turned to look at the closet’s double door, then pulled up the muzzle of his shotgun toward it-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Though the doors were completely annihilated, a figure rushed out of the closet and tackled the Manticore, who kept firing even when he went down.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Debris from the ceiling fell on everyone as the Manticore’s fully automated shotgun blasted away until the drum ran empty. The figure suddenly disappeared off of him, reappearing before the underground hero where he stood, petrified between them and the doorway.

“Crap-“ Pluton barely let out as the figure barreled toward him, punching the heartbeat sensor in his hands with such force that the entire device snapped it in half, with their fist continuing to travel into his nose.

Crack!

“GAH!” the Underground Hero shouted as he fell backward, with the figure running straight out the door.

“IT’S GIGGLES! DON’T LET HER GET AWAY!” the Manticore screamed as he scrambled up, abandoning his shotgun and jumping over the hero who remained on the ground.

The Blackout Hero followed the villain out the door and into the balcony hallways of the complex. Back inside the apartment, Pluton finally mustered the strength to stand up and finally snap his broken cartilage back into place and stumble out onto the balcony, but he quickly realized that the Manticore and Giggles were too far away to follow, so he went for a hastily conceived plan B.

Popping two orbs from his head, he shimmied his way over the balcony railing, placed the orbs on the parapet, and scaled it until he found himself on the complex roof.

The Manticore continued to pursue Giggles like a persistent animal. Giggles, realizing the Manticore was still on her tail, pulled out a butcher’s knife from her sweater pocket and chucked it blindly at the Blackout Hero, who was forced to cover his head and neck with both arms, even though the blade’s handle bounced off him harmlessly. But that moment of delay allowed the fleeing villain to grab onto a roof access ladder and begin climbing.

Seeing this, the Blackout Hero growled loudly, picking up the bloodied butcher’s knife, which was most definitely the murder weapon used to kill Yoshinaga, and continuing his pursuit.

The fugitive pushed herself onto the rooftop, only to step in sticky, purple spheres, which enraptured both of her shoes and stopped her escape.

“What the heck?”

BINK!

She was met with a strike to the face by a staff. Dazed, she stumbled, trying her hardest to keep balance, only to be encased in more of Pluton’s pop-off spheres, kicked in the stomach, and falling to the ground, completely stuck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Pluton snarled as he harshly stomped his boot on the side of the villain’s head with the bottom of his boot. “Why’d you kill Chiyoko Yoshinaga?”

“Heh… heh…” Giggles struggled to chuckle from being winded, but they smiled under the mask they wore. “‘Our heroes cannot be trusted to do what is necessary to offer permanent solutions to the problem of villainy, so I have decided to step up for them.’”

“HUH?” The words resonated deeply inside Pluton, but only due to their familiarity. Weren’t those the Manticore’s words in his broadcast- Wait, what?

She disappeared. Out from under his boot, out from his snare. “HOW?”

His ears barely caught the heavy footsteps of someone attempting to rush him. He spun around, his staff flailing through the air, just missing the side of Giggles’s head, as she crouched down to dodge with a knife in herhand, aiming straight for his heart-

TWANG!

“ARGH!” Pluton shouted as the blade was knocked downward by his staff just enough to miss his heart totally but still strike under his ribs and into the top of his liver. He fell back first onto the ground.

Lime-colored eyes glared down at the Underground Hero, unsticking the knife from his abdomen, over her head, trying to bring it down onto Pluton’s neck, but once again, his staff pushed her arms back. But, his strength began to fail him from the rapid loss of blood, and his arms began to strain. The tip of the knife got closer and closer to his Adam’s apple, closer and closer to snuffing out his life…

“OOF!” 

…Only for him to be saved by the Manticore, who came flying out of nowhere and kicked Giggles in the head, causing her to tumble away from the two heroes.

She got up, neon green hair spilling out of her fallen hoodie, staring at the Manticore with wide eyes. And then her cheeks rose in what the Manticore assumed was a wide smile.

“Manticore-kun!” she cooed. “Sorry about that! Gotta blast!”

And with that, she turned and sprinted toward the edge of the apartment.

“Oh no, you DON’T!” The Manticore bellowed as he threw the butcher’s knife back at the fleeing Giggles.

But just as it seemed like it was about to strike her square in the spine, she was suddenly much farther than the Manticore initially thought, causing the blade to clatter on the ground unceremoniously.

The Manticore cursed under his breath and began sprinting to catch up to Giggles, who was still running full speed toward the edge of the building without any hesitance even though there was nothing to jump to, the closest building much too far for her to clear the gap.

She jumped. Far off the ledge, with the Manticore right behind her, reaching out to grab her hood just as he did jump.

It all went in slow motion for him, with the villain looking back at him in shock painted all over her lime orbs. And just as his fingertips were just about to scrape Giggles’s hoodie…

She was suddenly farther.

“Oh, shit,” Pluton, who leaned over the roof’s edge, exclaimed.

“Oh, shit!” the Manticore couldn’t help but let out as he went plummeting-

CRASH!

Through a window, into someone else’s apartment.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” a heteromorphic lycanthrope woman with black hair screamed bloody murder, covering the swell of her breasts and genitalia as she stood just outside her walk-in shower.

The Manticore stumbled back onto his feet, pushing the woman aside, and stormed out of the woman’s bathroom.

He walked out of the apartment entirely, head spinning, ribs screaming in pain, his arms and shins covered in tiny cuts from the broken glass. He flopped his body on the edge of a railing, breathing heavily and looking up at the rooftops. Giggles was no longer visible.

She got away…

Later That Morning, UA High

“Ow, ow, ow, FUCK!” Minoru cried as Yu angrily pressed the bridge of his broken, gauzed nose. “OW- I GET IT, WOMAN, DAMN!”

“You just got out of the hospital getting stitches for the stab wound in your liver, a broken nose, and a concussion,” Saiko growled with her arms crossed. “So forgive us for being concerned.”

“Listen, if I wanted a bunch of fine women to worry about me for doing the thing I signed up to do, I think I’d still be a PERVERT!”

“You, at least, need to take a few days off to recover,” Kashiko grumbled.

“Listen, Kashi-chan. If Aizawa-sensei can get his ass slammed into the concrete at high speeds by an undead homunculus made with the sole purpose of going toe to toe with All Might and comes back the next day, I’m pretty sure I can survive coming back from a flesh wound.”

“Shit, I’m with that,” Rumi chuckled as she paced up and down the room.

“A flesh wound- What-, fuh-, n- no,” Yu tried to start a tirade, rubbing her temples. “You were STABBED in the LIVER!”

“You would be surprised by the liver's resilience,” Saiko added as she pulled out a teacup full of black tea from Lord knows where. 

“And it only nicked me too! See, totally fine!” Minoru grinned. “Besides, I didn’t have it as bad at the Manticore. The poor guy fell through someone’s window. I went to check on him, but he disappeared completely. He probably went out hunting for Giggles.”

He sighed. The first-year UA staff present currently were the only ones who have barely associated with Sero and the only ones allowed to investigate his murder. Minoru was the only exception because he knows information about Giggles that no one else has, other than the Manticore.

“Ugh, where the hell is Midoriya at?” the rabbit heroine groaned, stomping her prosthetic feet on the ground impatiently.

“I’m here, I’m here,” said a sleepy-looking Midoriya as he finally trotted in with a laptop in hand, this time wearing a green flannel and tan colored pants rather than his Sphinx suit. Of course, his grey cat ears still rested above his messy hair.

Rumi snapped her head around with a wide smile. “About damn ti- woah, what’s up with you.”

“YAWN! Sorry, sorry. I got distracted playing League of Legends,” the green-haired man replied as he rubbed his eye. “Before I knew it, it was already three in the morning.”

That wasn’t the craziest lie he ever told, but it certainly wasn’t a complete lie either. He stayed up throughout the remaining twilight hours, meticulously picking glass shards out of his arms and legs, cleaning them, treating them, and covering them in bandages.

Currently, he was suffering the effects of sleep deprivation and some inebriation from the THC lotions he slathered to help with the pain.

“Are you crazy?” Yu asked as she sat down, satisfied with teaching her junior a lesson. “Why would you subject yourself to that?”

“Because I am a sad, sorry man with no girlfriend and no life.”

“Oh really,” Yu responded with a feral smile on her face, resting her chin and looking at Izuku’s form up and down with her violet eyes-

WHACK!

“Ow…” Only to start whining when Rumi smacked her across the back of her head for being horny. “Not cool.”

“Alright, so,” Izuku started, setting down his laptop and connecting it to multiple wires on a projector. “You got some more information on the murderer of Cellophane.”

“Yeah. Well, all I know is that she is a woman. She has lime green eyes and some really loud, neon green hair.” He paused to think.

“Well, that’s not a lot to go off of…”

“Oh yeah, and there’s her quirk…”

“What about her quirk?” Izuku, suddenly sounding much more awake than he did moments earlier, asked, spinning around in his rolling chair to stare at Minoru, who sweat dropped in response.

“W- Well. Whenever either I or the Manticore got near her, she got out of your reach instantly.  She was able to slip through being trapped by my orb even though she was completely covered in them. When the Manticore threw a knife at her that should have hit her, it fell short.”

“Interesting,” he hummed as he spun back around toward his computer.

“I can’t believe one of the first instincts the Manticore had was to try and fatally wound her without even trying to restrain her,” Yu growled.

“Shit, if it weren’t for him, I would have died. He almost had her too”

“MINORU!” All of the heroines cried out.

“You can’t actually be in support of what he is doing?” Kashiko sighed.

“Listen! Listen. You can’t question the methods of a madman, so I didn’t,” he responded, waving his hand. “Try not to dwell on it either. You’ll be thinking all day. He has a job; he does it. We have a job; we do it. Take it up with the O5.”

“Fuck ass Overseers.” “Fuck ass Overseers.” Rumi and Yu both fussed.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptap

Everyone turned their attention toward Izuku, who furiously applied filters on the quirk registry. And then… he paused, staring at his computer.

“Ay, Midoriya,” Rumi called out to Izuku with concern painted on her usually resigned face as she stared at how hard the green-haired man was staring at the screen. “You alright?”

The cat-eared man didn’t immediately respond, even as he glanced toward the heroes. He pressed a button on the projector, lighting up the wall with a display of what was on his computer screen. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you, Michi Fukukado. Aka: Giggles.”

Everyone stood to look at the projection.

Female? Check.

Bright green hair? Check.

Lime colored eyes? Check.

Quirk? Phase step.

“She was a student at Tsugikuni University in Toyohashi. However, she was expelled following her participation in a riot in response to the murder of Ukon Murisaki and since then has been living in Musutafu near Yagi Heights.” Izuku scrolled down and highlighted the description of her quirk. “Her quirk appears to allow her to instantly transport her body five feet in the direction at least 60% of her body is facing, capable of phasing past people and objects with zero momentum loss. If something were to be within the radius of where she would appear, she would safely transport ahead of it.”

“So, its sole purpose is for fleeing?” Saiko marveled.

“A perfect way to escape a crime scene without leaving a trace,” Kashiko added.

“An abscondment quirk requires a persistent one to drive her to quirk exhaustion, so,” Izuku continued as he dropped the files into a flash drive and disconnected it from his computer, extending it toward Rumi. “Usagiyama-san, you’re the best hero for the job. Your agility and prosthetic advancements will allow you to run down Giggles and ensure she won’t escape.”

“Aw, ain’t you just sweet. HAHA!” Rumi cheered, patting the flustered man on the head as she stood up, snatching the flash drive from his hand. “I ain’t gonna let the Manti-cunt get one over on me! Time to show how we do!”

Izuku glared at the retreating form of the rabbit heroine as she headed toward the closest police precinct. No, you won’t.

With that being said and done, the meeting between the heroes was over, and everyone separated from their offices. Izuku rubbed his eyes as he packed everything, putting on his aviators as he walked out of the classroom-

That was until he bumped into someone.

“WOAH!” Izuku immediately reached out and grabbed their wrist to prevent them from falling.

It was Ochako.

She blinked in surprise, heat crawling up her neck and radiating on her face. “S- sorry, Izuku. I didn’t see you there. Heh…”

“No, no, I apologize. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” Izuku insisted.

“I- It’s fine,” she said, rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. Dang, he barely moved an inch when I rammed into him! What, is he made of steel or somethin’?

Snap, snap! “Earth to Ochako, do I have contact?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked if you are taking interns for the upcoming internships.”

“A- ah, I’m not. Unfortunately, no one wanted to intern under me. Even those who have no internship offers from other heroes,” she responded dejectedly.

Izuku sighed. “Passing up a chance to learn under the greatest rescue agency ever. They’ll learn eventually.”

“Thanks, Izuku, but I’m not the Wild, Wild Pussycats-”

“I was talking about you, Ochako.”

Well, shit. It’s official: her face was burning.

And the only thing denser than Izuku’s body was his social awareness. “Welp, I have to get something done. I’ll see you later.”

“W- Wait!” she called out, stopping Izuku in his tracks. Iridescent emerald orbs meet her brown ones. Oh God, please don’t look at me like that… I feel sick! I’m going to throw up!  She steeled herself and opened her mouth before her confidence failed her. “If you’re not busy, want to go down to this nice café downtown? I- It serves the best pastries I have ever tasted, and it’s my go-to during patrols.”

“Hm…” Ochako’s heart seemed to beat harder at each passing millisecond that Izuku contemplated. However, he gave a warm smile in return. “Okay! I’ll see you then. Bye, Ochako!”

“Bye…” She unconsciously waved, but as he finally disappeared into the next hall she released a huge sigh of relief and joy. “Holy crap!”

…

She slowly turned to her left to see Minoru, Yu, Saiko, and Kashiko all leaning out the door with smug looks across their faces.

They heard everything.

“Oh girl…” Yu couldn’t help but chuckle. “You are down so bad for that man…”

And she’s floating… Great…

Later that day

“I’d like to thank you all once again for answering the call,” Commissioner Tsukauchi started as he entered the police precinct, flanked by a few heroes, including the Rabbit Heroine.

“We just want to capture this sick fuck and maybe stick it to the Manti-cunt while we are at it, too,” Mirko grinned as they entered the station’s conference room.

The heroes took seats in chairs not occupied by officers waiting to receive orders. Mirko opted to stand at the back of the room, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. The fluorescent lights began to dim, and the room’s occupants finally silenced themselves completely.

A projector hummed to life, displaying a picture of a young woman on the screen.

She had pale skin, loud, neon-green hair tied in long twin ponytails, bright pink lips, and wide lime eyes.

“This is Michi Fukukado,” Naomasa continued. “Better known as the S-Rank villain: Giggles. She is responsible for at least 16 murders, including the slaying of Cellophane.”

Rumi’s ear twitched at the fallen hero’s name.

She was one of the many heroes who opposed Cellophane during the Murisaki Case. Although she never had children, she empathized with the former member of Class 1-A in his actions. But she did nothing to defend him in the court of law and did nothing to sway the court of public opinion to her thoughts on the matter. Murder was murder, after all; one life taken cannot bring back another one.

And those methods he used to make sure Murisaki’s last days were as agonizing as possible…

It makes her gag.

Deserved? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Necessary? No.

Is it any wonder why she is so revolted at the very concept of the Manticore?

At this point, Rumi had zoned out so far that she had missed most of the briefing. Not that she needed it; she already knew her role, the address that needed to be stung, and Giggles’s quirk, all the things she needed. Everything else was a formality.

Unfortunately for Rumi, she is about to snap back to reality in the most brutal way.

SLAM!

“SIR!” A frantic officer burst into the room, causing everyone’s attention to snap on him. “The evidence room has been broken into!”

“WHAT?”

Everyone rushed out of the briefing and toward the evidence room passing multiple carcasses of security cameras along the way. There gaggles of officers frantically checked to ensure all evidence was accounted for. Rumi halted her strides, looking at the state of the large metal door that sealed the room from the outside world. The handles, security lock, and door stiles were completely intact, so forced entry was impossible.

“What happened here?” Naomasa asked sternly.

One of the officers reared her head to address the commissioner. “Sir, someone destroyed the cameras from the west entrance all the way here and picked the locks. So far, everything is accounted for.”

“Who would just waltz into this place without detection? Ain’t there supposed to be someone guarding this place?” a hero from the crowd asked.

“Gaps between rotations can be up to ten minutes. That’s all the time needed to get in and get out without anyone realizing,” Naomasa glared at the corner of the room, where a pile of plastic, wires, and shattered electronics lay. “Why weren’t the cameras alerted? Who’s on cameras?”

“Officer Kazenbo, I believe sir.”

Naomasa pulled out his transceiver and pressed the talk button. “Officer Kazenbo, come in, over.”

He was met with silence.

“Officer Kazenbo, do you copy, over?” More silence. Frowning, he pressed the button one more time. “Any officers available in the precinct, check on Officer Kazenbo and see if he is at his post, over.”

Kzzt. “10-4.”

“Shit, SHIT!” one of the officers doing inventory shouted, taking all the attention in the room. “Evidence from the Cellophane case is missing.”

Everyone convened on the officer, who winced at his sudden attention.

“Report,” Naomasa demanded.

“Everything is in place except for the murder weapon. It was taken out of the bag… and replaced with this…”

He handed the commissioner a clear plastic bag for storing evidence without further contamination. But instead of the hammer that was used to bludgeon Cellophane to death, there was only a piece of paper displaying a single, bloodied, inverted cross.

The mark of the Manticore.

“Oh shit,” Mirko whispered to herself, wide-eyed.

Kzzt. “Officer down, repeat, Officer Kanebo is down! He is alive but unconscious, head wound!”

“FUCK! The Manticore is trying to strike first!” one hero exclaimed.

“How the hell did he take out the officer while coming from the other side? That shit doesn’t make sense!”

Mirko’s head spun at all the questions. But one thing was for sure. The Manticore will kill Giggles if they don’t get to her in time! “EVERYONE SHUT IT! IF WE WANT TO CAPTURE THE BITCH BEFORE THE MANTICORE CAN GET TO HER, WE NEED TO LEAVE ASAP!”

The message was loud and clear. The heroes and many officers funneled out of the room and then out of the precinct toward Giggles’s apartment.

Naomasa stayed staring at the Blackout Hero’s calling card, already resigned at the actions taken by him. There was no point in freaking out about everything going on or over what was about to happen. Because he already has a good idea of how it will happen. The heroes have already failed and don’t even realize it yet.

Meanwhile, at Yagi Heights

Michi, wearing a mask and sunglasses to cover the bruises on her face, sighed as she opened the door to her apartment, the brown paper bag full of groceries rustling as she shifted them to the other side of her torso, allowing her to push the door closed with her hip and secured the lock with her elbow. She haphazardly kicked her Crocs off her feet, flipping one light switch to dimly light her kitchen, then walked toward and dropped the bags onto the kitchen island. One of her bags toppled over when it landed, causing it to spill its contents, including multiple oranges and cans of assorted vegetables and meats.

“Son of a-” she groaned, hanging her head back in exasperation. She trudged around her kitchen island, opening her refrigerator as she knelt to pick up the fallen items. “Stupid, so stupid.”

She opted to stuff all the fallen items in the fridge and forget about it until she sorted everything out.

But as she turned, she froze, her heart nearly jumping out of her throat as she spots a shadowy figure standing completely silent, the only things revealing its presence being the dim light of the lightbulb above and the cold glow of the refrigerator.

How the hell did he get in? How long has been there?

“Who the hell are you?” she gasped as her heart hammered with freight and loathing, reaching ever so carefully for the multitool blade that was hanging off the band of her panties.

“Michi Fukukado,” an all too familiar, heavily modulated voice responded.

And as though the presence of the Manticore was that of a kitty rather than the ruthless, hyperviolent serial killer that he was, all fear within Michi dissipated. And like a flip of the switch, her irises suddenly dilate, and the heat on her cheeks (and between her legs) suddenly rises.

“Manticore-kun~!” She cooed in such a way that it almost made his skin crawl. “You got my message~!”

The Manticore didn’t respond, staring at the woman with his empty visor. The smile and the blush on Michi’s face didn’t waver as she leaned forward on her coffee table, allowing her cleavage to entice the Blackout Hero.

“Aw, don’t be like that~” she giggled. “I did it for us! Kyahaha!”

“… Us?” The Manticore couldn’t help but let the slightest bit of bewilderment bleed through his words, only to be more disgusted by how ardent the serial killer’s amorous giggles were becoming.

“Yes, silly for us,” Giggles put her hands on her cheeks and began to gush like a teenage girl. “Ever since I saw your broadcast, I have meant to be like you and impress you so we can work together to make those who escape justice together. Almost like a pair of Komainu, warding off evil until the end of time. Doesn’t that sound romantic, Manticore-kun?”

Komainu – Lion-dog guardian statues, primarily seen in China and Japanese Buddhist temples

“Do you think killing innocents is what a Komainu would do?”

A vein began to throb out of the neon-green-haired woman’s forehead as she was struggling to keep her lovey-dovey disposition. “Cellophane was not innocent. He killed someone innocent.”

“And the others you killed before him?”

“They were meanies, carrying themselves like they were the shit! Arrogant pricks…”

“You’re not Himiko Toga,” the Manticore responded curtly. “Stop pretending to be.”

“And I am not that fucking bitch! Do not ever compare me to that blood-sucking slut!” Michi finally snarled, only for her to switch back to her head-over-heels demeanor. “But I forgive you since you were the one who killed her! Kyahaha~!”

“THIS IS IT!” Mirko announced as she slid out of the police cruiser, looking up at the apartment complex. “Shit, that’s tall. What floor was it again?”

“Twenty-fourth floor, number 2412, west side,” one officer responded as he walked by, strapping on his police vest.

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE LET’S MOVE!” The rabbit heroine, flanked by heroes and officers, entered the apartment complex lobby only to find several technicians working on the elevator. “What the-”

A couple of workers glanced warily at the crowd of heroes and police. The Rabbit Heroine approached one of them and bared down on him. “Hey, why aren’t the elevators working?”

“Uhm- uh-” He immediately began stammering as Mirko’s overwhelming presence and dark glare bored down on him. “Someone came in and destroyed the panels before going up. Almost like they didn’t want anyone following them…”

“Almost like-?” Mirko was suddenly hit with a realization that nearly got her to gasp. “Stairs, STAIRS!”

They immediately rushed toward the emergency stairwell, hoping to stop the Manticore from ruining this operation.

“And who do you think that broadcast was aiming at?”

“As you said, those on the side of justice who tried to stop you-”

“Wrong, I said ‘those who threaten the lives of the innocent. Those who take advantage of the weak and poor. Those who believe themselves untouchable by the law…’”

“I- I didn’t-” She didn’t hear him say that in the broadcast. She left on the mission to kill Cellophane before he could say it. “I just- um…”

“Cellophane didn’t deserve to be murdered. Nor did his daughter deserve to be the first one to find her own father’s corpse. To grow up without him…”

“But he was a MONSTER! Did you see what he did to Ukon Murisaki?”

“I know very well what he had done. And Murisaki was lucky I didn’t get to him first.”

“How can you say that?” Michi’s eyes began to water as she gripped the multitool.

“I did my research. One hundred and six counts of homicide, thousands of counts of quirkist activities, discrimination against those with undesirable quirks, hundreds of million yen embezzled, neglect…” He paused to swallow the bile that began its ascent in the back of his throat. “Three hundred forty-seven counts of rape: of sexual deviancy and proletarian immorality, of acts of perversion with children as young as four years old. The Supreme Court of Japan found him guilty on all charges and sentenced him to be hung in the deepest depths of Tartarus.”

“Go, go, go!” The strike force sprinted out of the stairwell and toward the other end of the apartment complex as fast and as quietly as possible so as not to alert the villain or the Manticore.

“But he would never do that!” she cried. “He was a good man. He helped so many!”

“And you would know?”

“I DO! His donations got my family out of poverty after the war! He- he saved hundreds.”

“And traumatized hundreds more. Why do you think he helped you? From the goodness of his heart? No,” The Manticore chuckled lowly. “He did it to get the people's approval, to elevate himself to a level so he can seem untouchable to the heroes and politicians he wanted to farm blackmail on.”

“Your loyalty didn’t matter to him. Ukon Murisaki would see you and immediately think you are weak. A waste of space undeserving of breathing the same oxygen as him. Another set of holes to fuck. To him, you are not even human.”

“No, no, no, NO!” she tried covering her ears as angry tears rolled down her face. “NO! AHHHH, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING, WHY ARE YOU REJECTING ME! I JUST WANTED TO LOVE YOU!”

“He has done much worse to less deserving for much less. What makes you think a broad like you can avenge him?”

Stop, please! The bones in her hand started to pop from how tightly she held the multitool.

“Ukon Murisaki would hate you…” the Manticore whispered antagonistically. “Like how I hate you…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

PHASE STEP!

The entire world seemed to blur around her as her whole body flashed forward through time and space, her knife flying toward the Manticore at the speed of light-

FWOOSH!

She missed.

Michi’s eyes widened as she slashed through empty air. The Manticore, who should have had the blade embedded in his jugular, was nowhere to be seen!

Did I overshoot? She wondered to herself, her lime eyes flashing to her side, barely seeing the visage of the Manticore behind her, knees bent, leaning forward as though he hopped from his original position.

No, he just jumped forward within the radius of my Phase Step!

“FUCK YOU!” she screamed, swinging the blade wildly behind her, aiming right toward his back-

WHAM- KRACK!

“AHHHHHHHH!” Michi screamed in agony as the Manticore swung his right leg around in a roundhouse kick. The steel toe of his boot met the middle of her arm, snapping it cleanly in half.

The scream reverberated from the apartment into the halls, causing all the heroes and police to freeze.

Fuck! Are we already too late? The Rabbit Heroine thought to herself, eyes wide, her ears drooping to the sides of her head. Her face hardened into a scowl. NO! I can’t keep thinking like that!

“C’MON YOU SON OF BITCHES, MOVE IT!” she screamed, using her advanced prosthetics to bounce farther. Covertness be damned!

The blade in Michi’s hand falls and clatters onto the ground unceremoniously as she grips her hanging arm, only being held together by skin and tendons. She tried to shuffle herself away, seething in agony.

The Manticore immediately followed in pursuit. He stopped her retreat by grabbing a handful of her neon green hair, pulling her to the ground onto her back, and dragging her across the kitchen, her legs kicking, her only functioning arm rising in a desperately futile attempt to free her hair from the Manticore’s grasp.

She was going to die.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I- I’m SORRY! PLEASE!” Michi began to blubber apologies as the silent hatred emanating from the Blackout Hero spoke for him.

With a heave of his arm, the Manticore slammed the back of her head into the wall, still holding on to Michi’s hair.

“P- Please… I’m sorry, please don’t kill me…” Michi continued to sob, eyes red and puffy.

The Manticore reached behind him, pulling something from the back of his belt.

“Remember this?” he growled as he presented to her a carpenter’s hammer covered in dried blood and clumps of hair.

And remember, she did. Her eyes widened in recognition, her breathing getting faster and shallower until she was sweating and hyperventilating. She began to shake her head in desperation. “No- NO! PLEASE! I’M SORRY! I SURRENDER. PLEASE JUST ARREST ME, MANTICORE!”

“You fucked up bringing my name into this.”

“I… I’M SORRY,” she kept repeating until it all became incomprehensible whimpers to him. “I just… wanted to be like you-”

“NO ONE CAN BE LIKE ME!” he screamed, bringing the hammer back with the top of it aiming directly into her face. SCREEEEEEEEEECH!

“NO!”

WHAM! SPLAT!

One swing.

It took one ferocious swing of the arm to embed the entire head of the hammer into the right side of Michi’s face.

CRASH!

The front door swung open and collapsed. And when the dust cleared, Mirko stood there with her fists up.

“FREEZE! YOUR’E-” she froze, perking up at the scene before her. “Huh?”

The Manticore, with his empty visor’s gaze, stared at the doorway, at Mirko, with Michi’s hair still in his hand. The entire right side of her face completely caved in, gushing blood like a broken faucet, her eyeball hanging out her eye socket. The villainess’s mouth drooped open, spilling a mixture of blood and saliva onto her grey sweater.

Rumi continued to stare with wide red eyes, even as the Manticore finally let go of the woman’s hair, Michi’s body sliding to the ground, convulsing. Although her hearing had been damaged from years of explosions and ear infections, the Rabbit Heroine could hear the woman’s blood bubbling in her face.

She stared so long that she didn’t notice when the Manticore was already in front of her. Finally, her red eyes tracked the Blackout Hero’s position. Her ears shoot backward, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, the rabbit instincts that she trained to subdue so she wouldn’t run and hide as prey screamed at her to runrunrUNRUNRUNRUNRUN-

And for the first time since she vowed that she’d never be afraid again, she leaned into those instincts.

She slowly backed away from him. Backed away until she once again stepped through the broken door. She backed away until her back was pressed against the wall of the opposite end of the apartment hallway, sweating bullets.

The Manticore finally made his exit from the apartment. He turned to see the hallway lined with police and low-ranking heroes staring at him. They stared in disbelief that his mere presence was enough to subdue Mirko! The fearless rabbit heroine, who lives every day as if there is no tomorrow, who charged headfirst into clusters of Nomu during the wars, got her limbs torn off one by one and returned to the game with her ever-present feral smile.

To see her submit was wrong. All of this was wrong.

The Blackout Hero glanced between the crowd and the indisposed hero…

… And walked toward the elevator.

When the Manticore took his first step away from Mirko, she immediately raised her only remaining hand to her chest, feeling her heart thump erratically. Adrenaline was pumping through every blood vessel in her body. Her ears were ringing, and what remained of her thighs felt as though she could barely support her body weight.

What the fuck…

The Manticore paid her no mind.

He passed through the backup, who all split apart to let him pass without interference.

The Manticore paid them no mind either.

He already got what he came for.

He came for Michi Fukukado’s head.

He came for retribution.

Dozens of eyes tracked him as he strode up to the elevator, pressing the button to call it up to their floor.

They continued staring as the Manticore silently waited for the elevator’s doors to open.

DING!

The doors finally opened, allowing him to enter. He walked in and turned around, pushing the ground-floor button, and as he did, he stared back at the crowd.

The heroes and cops stared at the void of light and morals, and the void stared right back. They stared for so long that they didn’t even register the elevator doors closing until they closed completely, and the Manticore disappeared behind them.

“… and now we go to Kingo Murai, with the weather.”

“Thank you, Sosaki-san. We will see highs of 21° tonight, but we expect heavy clouds throughout next week with some light showers…”

End of Chapter 9

[Ending Song: The Way You Used To Do - By The Queens of the Stone Age]

Chapter Text

What's good, everyone! Hope you're having a nice day! It's me again... Ya boy. Damn, another World Series, another Dodgers championship, and another year has passed without an update. Oops, I promise it isn't out of malice.

I have been swamped for the last year. I got a new job in construction. I have been doing a lot of work in my life, which doesn't leave me much time to write.

So much to do, so much to see, so what's wrong with taking the back seat, am I right?

*Crickets chirping*

Alright, here's the deal. There is no wayyyyyy I am cancelling this fic. Too much time, too much energy, and too many words have already been spent on this, and I plan on seeing it all the way through. However, I need to do a rewrite first... Nothing too crazy, just making it seem less like a 13-year-old who just learned what the word "fuck" is. Taking the cringeworthy, amateurish, overtly edgy dialogue and jokes ripped directly from other media and making them more concise and realistic.

All plot threads will remain unaffected, and all characters will still be the same.

Oh, and don't you worry your little disturbed head, dear reader, because the brutality will also stay the same. I got a lot of crazy shit in my mind that needs to be vomited into the world.

Hold on to your asses. And remember: Go Dodgers.

- Rowdy