Chapter Text
"What's this shithole called?" Wolfram said, Swordkil and Diago in the passengers and backseat of the jeep he was driving on a long highway. The green sign he passed under read, 'Ensenada,' a long arrow pointing straight next to the city name. Underneath, another city further north by the title of Rosarito.
The coastal trade routes flowed along the coastal cities and up, especially towards Tijuana, then along the settlements remaining to the west. These cities were needed to keep all pieces of the pie going. Theirs was a worldwide organization, given more freedom especially after the events of a few months ago. They had boats, submarines, any water specific craft really, spreading out among the cities towards every direction full of their usual product. But now, given its quality, the Yakuza's stuff would net them quadruple their profits.
It was why El Sapo was so pronounced on doing dirty work for upstarts. Good relations meant cutting into the meat of the Japanese market. Especially with that new stuff going around, 'Boost,' as he'd heard it be called. Gave meta-abilities a kick from what he'd heard. Wolfram had a little tablet in his pocket for that very reason, just in case.
Haka finally answered him back, bringing Wolfram away from his inner monologue, "No idea, I don't think it even has a name. Fucking bumpkins. I sent the coordinates."
Wolfram smiled, "Good...Sapo will wanna hear about it."
"I told him."
"You what?"
"He knows, already, he's waiting for you at his home."
"No...you told him before you told me?"
"Is...there something wrong with that?" Haka's voice raised into a sort of high-pitched keening, a telltale sign he was doing his little nervous spiel. Twitchy little bastard, but a useful bastard at that.
"No, but in the future any information you and Nobu receive should be given to me first. Understand?"
"...Y-Yes sir."
"Was that Haka's jittery ass?" Swordkil asked as the peaks of the coast revealed themselves, stretching his arms over his head. The highway road revealed the tops and lights of the city. Beyond it, the low dip of the pacific. A beautiful city but hiding many secrets within that'd make even a man as warm as the desert winds have chills at their telling.
"He told Sapo about them. Nobu and him sniffed those little bastards out." Swordkil nodded at this and didn't say anything more. He was a man who loved his sleep and not having it nearly the whole night was a hindrance on his performance. Really, it was the only flaw in his work the boss of the merc's could really call a detriment sometimes.
"Shouldn't we get after 'em?" Diago said, his once light skin now red with sun. He'd been leaning towards the air conditioning of the jeep for as long as the couple hour trip lasted.
"It's a family issue now," Swordkil explained. "They strike our men, we strike at them. Plus, if they get out they start talking about us and the family."
"Then..." Diago glanced about the car, "what if we just leave 'em alone? the money is a payday sure, but...we could make that much in another job after hiding back east."
Wolfram shook his head, "It's about sending a message. They're heroes, Diago, little shits who believe the world will become better if they punch a perceived, "Villain," in the face and smile."
"And we're gonna make sure they figure out that ain't the case, eh?" Swordkil chuckled.
"Exactly."
"What good is a message when we're on the radar of the top dicks in Japan and America? no money will make them go away," Diago reasoned.
"We'll hide out back east like you said. Trust me, it's a part of being who we are. The world's changing, people like us don't have to hide anymore because the very same people who call themselves law abiding citizens suddenly shudder when their top meat shield croaks. All Might's gone and that scares these little sheep like you wouldn't believe. Killing those little shit Japanese fucks is gonna make em even more scared. Thus they won't fight back."
"So...all of this is to just scare the little guy?" Diago said.
"No. It's to show them that heroes don't exist. They call themselves heroes but what they really are..." he chuckled, "well they're like us. Any problem to the dominant dick in society?" he made a slashing motion with his finger along his neck. "It's as simple as that. We're just on opposite ends of the so-called law."
"I'd be lying if I said the money wasn't a net benefit too," Swordkil said. "I'm happy to give it to those assholes. Smug Asian hero pricks, literally the worst kind of hero. Bow on my d-"
"We're almost there," Wolfram said. "Be cool," he ordered.
"Right boss," Swordkil said.
"Right..." Diago nodded.
"Diago," Wolfram said, not looking at the mirror this time.
"Yeah boss?"
"Don't use that talk you just did with me at Sapo, understand? show respect, speak when spoken to, and let me do the talking."
"Right boss," he still seemed unsure. "Why do you hate heroes so much anyway?"
"Me?" Wolfram glanced back at him in the mirror and Diago knew he more than likely messed up by asking something so personal.
"I mean-"
"No, it's cool man," Wolfram waved his massive hand. "Been a while since I told the story. We ain't had a new member in years and dealing with heroes usually isn't in the job description so...been a minute, like I said."
Diago nodded. Swordkil looked oddly muted as Wolfram began.
"Thirty years ago, I was living in Los Angeles. That's right, I'm that old. Not the man you see in front of you now, not at all. I was smaller, younger, more hopeful maybe but who gives a damn about crap like that? anyways, I owed a lot of money to some very dangerous men. I had a wife and a daughter believe it or not. Never deserved the both of them."
There was a small shift in his face as he said that, but then he was back to being the big bad boss and his men said nothing about it. "That meant I needed to get money by any means necessary. So, I did. I started out by slinging dope, meth and heroin, not by choice. Street guy back then. But I had big plan's, I wanted to hit my boss's earnings and get my family out of that godforsaken city. Move to Alaska or Nebraska, somewhere cold where nobody would ask questions."
He stopped for a small moment, tapping his finger against the wheel. "Said boss at the time, I owed him heavy. He fronted the bill after my daughter's birth with alotta interest. It's funny, real funny how gullible some folk can be. I was one of them if you can't tell. A sheep, weak, and he the wolf saw a golden opportunity to have a new slinger."
"Were you...good at it?" Diago asked.
"Oh, oh yeah I was. Pulled in plenty, but it was just never enough to pay off what I owed. Back home, me and the family were practically living on pennies. The boss pulled in nearly ninety percent of what I made. That's why I'm always even with you boys no matter what. Cause that's what made me plan all this out. Like I said, I wanted to rob him."
Diago nodded, Wolfram continued, "It was so perfect. At least that's what I thought. I watched him put that money away in this safe every Tuesday. It took me a while to memorize the combination but I did. I broke into his place of business at night, my meta-ability wasn't all that much back then, so I had to use a crowbar on a window, so stupid, I shoulda brought a screwdriver or something but I was worried about fighting so the crowbar had double use. I had to climb to the third floor to pull the screws out. Some junkie must've heard something, I'm not sure and it's not important."
He breathed in and out. "Boss's men found me. I stuck that crowbar through one of the asshole's eyes and jumped out the window with what little I'd gotten. Fall was three stories and let me tell you it's no good for the knees. I get in the nearest car I can find, hotwire, and speed away. Until...he came."
"Who?" Diago asked.
"...All Might," he drew in a loud breath this time and nobody in the car said a word. "It took him two seconds to upend the car and have me hanging from a light post by my collar. I didn't even know who it was, that's the funny part. He moved so damned fast..." Wolfram shook his head.
"After that, I went to prison. They stuck me with a five year long sentence in the can. As for my wife and daughter..." his breathing was so loud they could hear it over the fully blasting air conditioner. "My former boss had them killed. They said it was a break that went wrong. Couldn't prove anything. It was at that time I knew I had to learn to really survive in this world or be destroyed."
His hands tightened on the wheel, so hard Wolfram was nearly ripping it off. "And...I did. By the time I was out I'd acquired all the skills I needed to forge a path for myself. In six months, I'd become South California's finest hitman. My former boss was my first target. He had many enemies. It was...fangasmic. I'd planned out his death in that cell too many times to count and seeing it come to fruition..." he sighed and nodded.
Wolfram seemed almost relaxed after retelling that part. Yet, still he went on, "My accomplishments put me on his radar, All For One...he gifted me a few upgrades in return for my services."
"His...meta-ability is giving them?" Diago asked.
"You'd be right. Although he takes them too. It's how he became so powerful. We got along pretty damned well, it's why I wanna find that chosen kid he had in his ranks. Another member to our fold, and a strong one at that."
"You got along?"
"Shared a hatred of All Might. Turns out that son of a bitch pissed off alotta people. If it weren't for him, maybe I'd be somewhere managing a Cinnabon in Omaha. But the past is the past, and All Might? he's a part of it now. No more All Might, no more bullshit peace time. The time of us apparent "villains," has come."
They'd dipped in the city briefly, only seeing the outskirts and for now rode east out towards what many in the city would refer to as 'no man's land.' The ravaged land still shown the effects of war. Craters full of scrap or trash, whole cliffs slashed off its rocks toppled to the bottom of the ravine it was located in, cactus deflated and wrinkled, its spine hanging out like some ungodly offering.
For the final ten minutes of the trip, the men drove off the highway onto the rocks of a dirt path. When they stopped, two long black cars were visible in the distance. Almost like hearses. Diago and Swordkil stepped out of the car when told by Wolfram and saw the area for what it was.
The land stretched endlessly beneath a pale sky. A sea of gold swaying in the slight wind. Grass, dry and brittle, the color of aged paper, rustled like a whistle. Far beyond the mountains rose in blue and grey peaks which themselves were softened by distance. Ancient and unmoved by the world of darkness around them.
The air shimmered faintly with heat and the crunching boots on the grass as eight figures approached the three men. As if the world held its breath for the meeting. A place where truth could not hide, and only the strongest would endure the vast uncaring desert.
Leading the eight in an avian formation, was El Sapo himself. Small, rotund, and wearing a three-piece suit even in this climate. His slimy skin sheened a strange perspiration as he moved with an off-putting quickness for a man of his seemingly ineffective and insufficient size.
There were two men in black, personal guards. Big, tall, and dark skinned. A contrast to the man they protected with their lives. But the real interesting sight were these five, 'assassin's,' the mercenaries had heard so much about.
All five were heteromorphs, that much could be gained by the first big fucker carrying bull horns on his massive head. They heard him audibly sniff. He had the body of a man who clearly enjoyed his protein. Massive and rippling muscle that flexed with every step he took.
He was followed by two women. Utterly beautiful, the both of them-long shiny black hair, red eyes that pierced whomever they looked at, you almost wouldn't have noticed their bat wings or long claws.
The last two were the strangest. At a distance the mercenaries thought one of them was no heteromorph, but it became clear he wasn't when they took the time to study him. His arms were chitin plates, the dull green of oxidized bronze. He wore a long black poncho that hid them, as if he didn't wish for them to be seen unless necessary. His head moved precisely, snapping from one way to the other, like an insect. His eyes were the sizes of saucers.
At the left side of El Sapo, a lean, wiry man whose skin constantly shifted between color's before eventually settling on the desert's bright brown. A faint lattice of scale patterns ran along his cheekbones and down his neck, shifting and fading with every single breath. The tactical gear he had on was worn, but at least he was dressed for the occasion.
"Gentlemen," El Sapo finally said, the buttons on his suit almost popping as his large neck stretched for a long inhale and exhale. He croaked softly. "It is good to see that you are within well health.
"Don Sapo," Wolfram nodded respectfully, as did his men. "These are your faithful five?"
"Indeed," he looked at them all. Some nodded, others snorted. "Whom you see in front of you go by the titles of-" he went down the line, from the bull to the chameleon, "Toro, Las Hermanas Murcielago, Aguijona, y Cascabel," they in turn nodded back at the three.
"Now..." said one of the sisters, her crimson eyes bright with interest, "where exactly are these little children?"
El Sapo nodded at Wolfram. The mountain of a man cleared his throat, "In a village a few dozen miles north of here. We've garnered word on how we might dispose of them."
"That being?" Cascabel said. He had a low voice, almost a whisper.
"Always so damned cautious," Toro shook his head, "they'll die all the same."
"Settle yourselves. Let the men speak," Aguijona said. His head cracked between the both of them before returning to the mercenaries. They'd been watching, a strange look in Diago's eyes who then looked away.
Swordkil cleared his throat, "It's got two entrances. Caves and a shitty road leading into the place. Real out of the way, guess they wanted to keep away from the worries of the world or something stupid. Air's probably our best option. Cars too, armored, you know the one's," the bat sisters gleamed at the air line.
"Good...good..." El Sapo nodded.
"Our remaining men will pick off any stragglers at the main entrance," Wolfram said.
"Good..." El Sapo said with a strange delight. His voice was low and soft, yet all hung onto every word for dear life. "No more failures. You must understand."
"We didn't account for...that little...rat," Wolfram said feeling at the freshly scalping claw marks on his face.
"Children," Toro snorted. Wolfram's eyes shifted a little.
El Sapo took out a cigar from a box he held in his suit's pocket. One of his men lit it for him as he held it out, then drew in a long drag and exhaled a ring of smoke out into the air that evaporated several feet towards the sky.
"Heroes..." he said in a nearly clinical tone. "You may wonder why this is so important Toro, a few others here perhaps. Heroes are an infection you see, like an independent outlier that spoils the supply of a product. One rescued fool, one fight won against all the odds, suddenly heroism and vigilantes especially run wild."
He tapped the back of his cigar, and ashes smothered the pebbles before his dress shoes. "They convince shopkeepers to refuse us, convince men in uniforms to reject our offers, convince families to hide their powerful children away so that they may one day rise against us. Our profit suffers..."
His face did not harden, it was sinking almost, as if he were genuinely saddened. "That little emotion: Hope. It is an independent we cannot afford gentlemen and ladies. It is a contagion that starts small and ends in coffers and gross net worth lost. However, you may feel about them, for me it is simply good business. They make us look like fools, and suddenly we are no longer invulnerable to the undesirables. I take no pleasure in ordering the deaths of ones so young, but the benefit is all too great."
He held out a hand, moving it along like he was some preacher delivering mass. He walked along the ground as he did, looking at each and every single one of them in the eyes. A small cloud passed over them in the sky, darkening the area for a few moments. "Be efficient, be merciless, dispose of those within the village or take them for the purposes of shipment. If we may gain more of a profit out of this, I would greatly reward whoever is up for the task. They must be brought to justice for allowing those young one's stay."
Sapo took another drag of his cigar, "It is simply good business," he said right as the smoke came trailing out of his wide mouth in two's. "You understand?"
"Yes sir," Wolfram said. He knew he was going to have to decide who All For One's chosen had been soon, otherwise this whole investment would be mud in the water.
Respectful acknowledgements followed, even if they weren't entirely earnest. El Sapo left in his vehicle, leaving his five to the task.
The assassins traveled with the three mercenaries in silence. Nobody said a word. They all knew what was about to happen, what was about to go down. A huey was waiting for them in a small clearing south of the city.
Did they have any doubts, any worries? perhaps. But none spoke. Not when they were in the air, not when they were over the village, not when they dropped or flew out, and not when the armored cars rolled into the village below them and the screams of the dying began like a chorus of the damned. Not a word.
The students were taken down into the center of the canyon, some half buried in a collapsed section of what seemed to be a long forgotten structure. It used to be an old mission church, now repurposed as a gathering place for the people.
Gather they did. The whole village had come to see the strange visitors, standing away from the adobe walls and an exposed bell tower towards the entrance which they all gathered around the windows of or inside. Children poked their small heads to see around their judging mother's legs. The men had all taken up arms and stood with the little straw-hat man given the students had come peacefully. Normally, they'd have covered the exits.
The main nave had been converted into a hall. The old alter now served as a means for worship or a council table. Broken pews rearranged into semi-circles where the students sat.
Straw hat, whose name had been revealed to them all as simply, "Alejandro," sat down at the alter and looked at them. Ryan was stood by him in order to translate if the language got messy. Guadalupe stood at the front of the crowd, palms regally pressed together.
A slight wind moved through the broken tower like a choir. Alejandro examined them, not purely for their physical selves. "Were you being followed?"
"We didn't see-"
But Momo cut Mina off before she could speak, "No, not at all."
Mina looked at her, then realized, and was silent. Most stares were directed right at her or Mineta. Pink skin, horns, and grapes for hair wasn't commonplace back home, and it was certainly no different here. Anything seen as disrespect from her especially wouldn't win brownie points with these people.
"Why have you come here?" Alejandro asked, his palms laying out on the alter like a priest in a ceremony. Only blessing was the furthest thing in his mind at the moment.
Momo looked from side to side, seeing rather polished photos of Saints hung on the walls. Compared to the rest of the church's look they were downright pristine. "We were...assisted. You see we are hero trainee students from Japan as you've more than likely guessed by my accent. On our way to a weekend in...America by jet. However, the engine or...something failed and we crashed quite a distance south."
"You were assisted by the rat?" Ryan glanced at the old man when he said that but spoke not a word.
"He has a name," Mina quickly said. Eijiro put a hand on her shoulder. Some of the Mexican's looked at her, but none said anything about the slight.
"Yes..." Momo said awkwardly. "During an...encounter with a gang of men seeking our death's he assisted our escape. We may not have gotten out alive knowing now who hunts us."
"That being?" the old man leaned forward.
"T...The cartel we believe," she paused, wondering about her next words, choosing them very carefully. Here she could not afford to lie. "They want us dead for money."
A low moan swept through the crowd, and they talked and bantered among themselves. Most of it wasn't positive to the students. "Throw them to the rocks!" was a common line. The kids all looked around in absolute shaken shock.
"You brought them here!?" the tall younger man turned his head to Ryan. The students guessed by this point the man was a son of the elderly leader. Based off how his father took him by the sleeve.
"Miguel-" but Alejandro was cut off.
"They needed help!" Ryan snapped back, his Australian and Mexican accent never more pronounced. "What was I supposed to do? let them be captured by the Lobo's?!" his tail twitched in protest. That'd been at the back of his throat ever since the meeting started.
It silenced the crowd, but not due to the tone of Ryan's question. Dark eyes wide in fear at the mere mention. An awful feeling went through the stomachs of the students as they watched on. Like their intestines were being wrung by invisible tendrils. "...Lobo's?..." Guadalupe whispered. "Dios mio..."
"Wolfram..." Alejandro took the small, dusted spectacles on his head off. "That would mean...El Sapo..." terror seemed to wash through this once eternally calm older man.
"...W-Who?..." Mineta said warily, his fingers taking handfuls of his pants.
"The...frog?" Momo said oddly. Ochako was quick to imagine Tsuyu in a business suit.
"The Lobo's are..." Miguel paused. He glanced at Ryan who'd turned away, then his father. His thin pointed chin shifting. "Mercenaries."
"We guessed that much. Are they big time?" Sero said. "You seem afraid."
"We've good reason to be!" Miguel said, raising his voice. "They are the most ruthless gang of murdering psychopaths, never mind the Sicaro...the enforcers working under El Sapo."
"We heard about him, what's his deal?"
"The leader...of..." he had to clear his throat for a second, "a boss, warlord, whatever you want to call him. He leads nearly all the south below Tijuana. Never a crueler villain has existed."
Alejandro explained further while Diego had to grab a handkerchief and wipe at his forehead. "Ensenada is...was a beautiful city. But...the," he held up his hands, "the cartel saw fit to expand. El Sapo was one of them. They came to the city like a disease and spread their influence all to form a new trading route back to Tijuana."
"Trade? arms, drugs, and people...I assume," Momo said.
Alejandro nodded, "Life there under their influence...it's...poisonous. It is why we formed a village here, to stay from them. What you see here are victims of La Mafia. In some form or another. Orphans, the abused, the hurt. We sought away from this darkness and that is why..." he took in a deep breath, "and that is why you must leave."
"What?!" Ochako's eyes widened. "But...we haven't done anything!" she pleaded as the crowd overwhelmingly supported their leader's choice. Clapping and demanding for every one of them to be thrown out there and then.
"Maybe you think you have..." Miguel said accusatorily, "imagine if they receive word of you being here. Our home was safe, but your presence here...they could pick up the trail. They could find us and when that occurs, do you believe they'll only stop at you eight?"
"Y-You can't just kick us out!" Mineta shook his head rapidly, "we...can't we hide out here?"
"No," Alejandro shook his head.
"I didn't help em just for you to throw em out because you're scared to fight back!" Ryan yelled at the two men finally. He'd tried remaining quiet, but this was the final straw for him.
"Yeah, yeah he's right!" Jiro added. "The hell is the matter with you people!?"
"Silencio!" someone in the crowd yelled.
"Throw them out!" another said in heavily accented English.
"Enough!" Alejandro barked. Some did, some didn't. He had to repeat himself several times before the crowd, students, and his son finally quit spitting venom everywhere.
He looked at Ryan, then his son, then his people, and finally the group that was troubling his village. "I take no pleasure in doing this. I understand you were simply victims of misfortune, but heroes here are...not heroes. This is no country for them. Many who would call themselves heroes have only brought destruction to our people."
Alejandro breathed in and out, "It started with the war. Men fighting men over their...superpowers. Those same men who apparently saved the people from the oppression of the government would sooner join the cartel's expansion, becoming enforcers. Then more apparent, "heroes," rose to fight them, leading to the destruction of villages, town's, cities, as what you might know as...collateral damage."
Finally, he stood, his old face leathery in the dim light. "La Mafia murders them and those around them. No matter the involvement. They are no vigilantes, heroes, simply a walking firearm. I cannot in good conscience allow your stay to be the ruin of my people. I have tolerated the rat's prescence, but now? no more. You will all begone before the afternoon. It is the best offer I shall give you."
"You freakin serious?!" Jiro yelled.
"Cowards!" Sero shouted.
"Guys!" Ochako shook her head at them. "This isn't helping!"
Mineta was staring ahead, but he wasn't there at that exact moment. Deep within the recesses of his own mind. Kirishima noticed. He put a hand on Minoru's shoulder as the argument carried. "Brotherman, you can't be starin off into space."
"He knew this was gonna happen," Mineta whispered. "So why would he..." his voice trailed off as he stared ahead at a Ryan who was hunched watching this all go down.
"What if it was your kids huh?!" Denki reasoned at the old men and the crowd. "Today it's us, but tomorrow it's them!"
"He's right!" Mina looked between each and every one of them, her dark eyes glazing with tears. "Those c-cartel guys, they aren't invincible. We've heard about all this cruelty, all this injustice, doesn't it make you, the victims pissed off?!"
Momo had been staring daggers at the old man and his son as her compatriots gave their speeches. When Mina said that she finally spoke, "No, it makes them subservient."
"Who are you to judge us?!" Miguel barked back. "We are not you. We have no abilities that allow us to take gun shots, to destroy cities, meta-abilities are few and far between in this land."
"That does not mean you cannot do something about it!"
"Oh? well give me some insight hero. Go on, go on!" he waved her on. "Tell me what we could do to one of their enforcers, tell me what we could do about their helicopters, their guns, their army!"
"Every man with two hands has a fighting chance!" Eijiro said. But even he looked unsure, as did the others.
"Is that all?" Miguel asked.
Ryan had turned away, glancing among the pictures of the saints for a small time. There was a strange expression painting his face. A mixture of shame and something else.
"Why didn't you tell us about...this?" it was Mineta who currently stood underfoot. He'd come over while the argument still raged on. Some of the men paid attention to where he was going but disregarded any untoward actions like everyone usually did given his appearance. Ryan hadn't heard him so he was momentarily surprised before replying to him.
"I thought we'd get in or get out," his voice was shaking somewhat, especially at the last word where he produced two sounds for the U in out.
Mineta didn't look satisfied by this. "You're always so vocal about stopping the cartel, is there...bro did you expect this to happen?"
No reply.
"...Why would you bring us here?"
"You got more important things-"
"Nah man, you've been really flakey. Been looking away, quiet as a...um...mouse, and it's like you're...wanting to hide something."
Ryan wasn't listening anymore. Not because he wasn't interested in defending himself, but because he seemed to focus on a matter more important than anything here. His ears were twitching. Eyes elsewhere even as Mineta made his small interrogation.
"-Need to admit it man," Mineta said.
Ryan snapped out of it, then looked down at Mineta. He was sweating and not from the heat. "W-We...you...a r-rat t-told me-"
"You shall not have to force us from here," Momo shook her head as the heated conversation raged on. "We are not some common criminals who'd take advantage of your people-"
"-Hey if anything they'd let it happen judging by what they let the cartel get away with," Sero said cuttingly.
Miguel slammed his hands on a table, a vein protruding from his forehead, "Shut your goddamned mouth puta!" Too many people he'd watched die, so much struggle, and here was this gringo making a mockery of it all.
"Or what?" Sero tilted his head, he was utterly seething at this point, his arms shaking with frustrated anger. A combination of sunburn, this argument, and general mixed feelings about this country bubbling into an awful solution. "Come down here and make me."
"Hey!" Eijiro grabbed Sero's shoulder as did Mina.
Mina shook her head, "bro that's enough!" she whisper yelled looking around at the faces of the people watching. They weren't winning any favors, especially with Miguel whose father had to grab his son's hand to prevent him from vaulting down towards a certain beating.
"Stop!" Ryan ran to the center between the two men at the stage and the teens in their chairs, his eyes wide with fear. "Everyone! everyone please listen!" Mineta confusedly followed behind him as Ryan made the same begging stammers in Mexican, turning to each and every corner of people in that room. "They're coming! t-the cartel they're on their way!"
Some shocked murmurs, but a majority of loathing groans. "¡Cállate!" Miguel shouted at him.
There was nothing but pure panic in Ryan's eyes. He looked around, pleading between English and Spanish. Momo stood, "Where are they now?" she said. The others stood with her and began to gather, ignoring the angry shouts of the civilians.
"It's a damned performance!" a thick accented middle-aged man said.
"Give em over!" a woman shouted.
Ryan began stammering out the information, "One of my rats, o-out in the desert he saw-"
An explosion, the scream of people and gunfire, dust and debris flying everywhere. It was outside and inside. People fell holding themselves, blood and gore seeping out into the floors.
The kids saw this and screamed as they lay prone on the floors, Eijiro instantly hardening and covering everyone he possibly could. Sero saw Miguel holding Alejandro's lifeless corpse in his hands and shot tape at him. Even as the man protested and screamed, Sero held him under himself.
Mineta threw grapes all around at the walls providing cover for the people. His scalp exploding with dark murky blood. The back of Momo's shirt popped open and a massive steel shield covered them further. Jiro held her hands over her ears but it wasn't enough, she was rolling around in pain. Denki put his own hands on them in the heat of the moment, his face contorted in terror. Mina and Ochako simply had to lay there, watching as these people died right in front of them with nothing to do about it.
Ryan lay with them. Tears in his eyes as he held Guadalupe under him. His bright blue eyes and her dark black wide as they both realized his mistake. He had brought the kids here, he led the cartel here by doing so, and now all he could do was witness the consequences of this act. He wanted to bring them here so the best of the best could save these people, but now here they were dying around him.
And he could do nothing but watch.