Semper Fast Chapter 25

The Hero Killer

Allen Martin

SemperFast

Pathetic Coward Stain likes to hide in the alleys like a dog. He's afraid that real hero #SemperFast will bring an end to his pathetic crime spree.

13:56 – 12 May 2249

Allen Martin

SemperFast

The Hero Killer, a murderous loser at life who takes out his problems on better men. When he goes down, nobody will care. SAD!

14:01 – 12 May 2249

Allen Martin

SemperFast

Stain looks like the love child of Bob Marley and Michael Jackson, it's too bad that he has none of the talent of those great AMERICANS!

14:05 – 12 May 2249

As he took a break from the nonstop battery of physical assessments and sparring—interspersed with actual lessons on the hero trade, of course—Allen sat on the floor of the Agency's gym and stared at the screen of his phone with a growing sense of horror as message after message taunting Stain and general jackassery popped up on his twitter feed under his account.

"What…the…fuck?" Allen couldn't believe the amount of attention this was getting—his online presence had already grown enormously from the attention he'd gotten as a result of the UA Festival, but this level of exponential growth and engagement was something else entirely. "This got thirty-six thousand retweets?" He shook his head. "I don't know whether to be pissed off or impressed…whatever Ingenium is paying that social media team of his, it's not enough."

The tweet storm geared towards drawing out Stain had begun the evening of his first day and continued nearly unabated at a rate of a new tweet every few minutes since then, and there were already people dividing into various camps over this. The vehement Allen-haters continued to spew venom at him with every post, calling him an attention seeker and a fraud—a portion of them even going as far as to defend Stain out of their personal distaste for Allen. Many others rallied to Allen's defense, supporting him for the 'brave stance' he was taking against the Hero Killer. Allen wasn't going to complain about the support, but he found that concept laughable in its absurdity.

'How the hell is coming out against a serial killer considered brave?' He wondered, 'Isn't that, like, a normal thing to think?'

In addition to the his defenders and detractors, there was a growing number of people who questioned the legitimacy of the tweets themselves, reasonably pointing out the unlikelihood that someone would continuously make posts about the same topic without sleep. This bastion of logic actually gave Allen a welcome ray of hope that he could explain away this embarrassing chapter in his online profile. None of the tweets sounded like him, he'd just explain that he'd been hacked.

'Aaaand I was just verified.' Allen's face fell at the little blue checkmark appearing next to his name upon refreshing the app. 'Wonderful.'

"Hey kid!" One of Tensei's sidekicks interrupted Allen's social media angsting session with a cocky swagger in his step. "Word around here is that you're accepting any challenges to spar." He jerked his thumb towards the door and smirked. "I want to—"

"Yeah fine, whatever." Allen interrupted, dismissively shooing the sidekick away like a fly—with the hand motion and everything—before looking back down at his phone. "I'll kick your ass in a minute."

True to Tensei's warning the first day, he had been the constant recipient of challenges from the pro's horde of flunkies wanting to 'teach him a lesson' and had long since run out of patience listening to their self-righteous diatribes. Tensei was wrong about one thing though—the act of knocking the smug pros down a peg still hadn't gotten old.

Being surrounded by so much hostility was exhausting, but Allen would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy the opportunity to channel his inner Bakugo and throw their shit right back into their faces. It had even gotten to the point where Allen had made a game of seeing how angry he could make the people who got in his face.

His ego wounded, the sidekick bristled at Allen's casual disrespect. "You really think that you're hot shit, don't you? Just cause you beat the boss's little brother and you're part of the Stain team doesn't make you special…I—"

"Fuck, are you still here?" Allen cut him off again and rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his utter contempt. Where did that guy get off calling him a kid? If he were a day over 20, Allen would eat his boots, laces and all. "Look bro, you don't have to give me your whole spiel. I get the picture. Just like I got the picture with the twenty other butthurt losers who came at me before you. It's the same goddamn thing over and over again with you douchebags: 'blah blah, I don't like your face, this foreign kid is getting too big for his britches, I'm a whiny little fuck who didn't make the cut so now I'm trying to take out my anger over my tiny dick on someone who hasn't even started shaving yet!'"

"W-why you little…!" The sidekick's face turned purple with barely contained rage, "You…me…ring! Now!"

'Oohoohoo he's pissed.' Allen's grin was of the shit-eating variety as he stashed his phone in his pocket. He took a quick swig of water and tugged on his padded sparring gloves.

The sidekick was glaring at Allen with molten hatred as he stepped into the cage and closed the door behind him. "So, how are we doing this?" Allen asked in a conversational tone, hopping up and down on the balls of his feet and running through a few basic combinations, "Since you're the genius who thought that getting his ass kicked by a kid in his first year of high school would make him look tough, I'll let you pick the rules."

"Quirks are allowed. No going for the eyes or the balls." The sidekick growled, displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Fight doesn't end until one fighter yields or can't continue."

"You sure about that?" Allen asked, "That seems like a bit much for a sparring match, doesn't it?"

"Why," the sidekick snarled, his voice was deepening and his features and demeanor becoming more and more bestial by the second, "you scared? After all that big talk earlier? Pathetic."

"Scared?" Allen laughed, "Nah, I was just worried about you. Getting knocked out is pretty bad for you, you know." He shrugged, "Fuck it—it's your funeral. Yo Referee! Start this shit!"

The moment the bell rang, the bestial sidekick let out a howl and pounced at Allen, clearing the entirety of the ring in a single bound with claws extended and teeth bared. He was determined to tear Allen a new one—literally if necessary. With a smirk, Allen activated Fast Forward at 8X and neatly stepped out of the way of the reckless lunge.

'Bad move, animal man.' Allen thought, countering the sidekick's attack with an uppercut to the jaw that had his entire body behind it in addition to the force of the leap itself. Caught completely by surprise, the bestial pro's consciousness went out like a light, and still carried by his momentum, he crashed face first into the opposite side of the cage and lay there motionless, looking eerily like a corpse.

"Ah FUCK!" Allen cursed, shaking his hand from the blow's feedback. "That really fucking hurts! I better not have broken my hand!"

(Tensei's Office)

Three floors above Allen, Tensei turned off the screen that he and two others had just watched the short-lived spar through. Feeling smug, Tensei turned to Omou, who sat in one of the chairs across from him with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"Are you finally satisfied now, Omou?" Tensei asked, "He's passed all of your tests with flying colors. The physical exams, the constant challenges from my sidekicks—everything we've thrown at him, he's overcome. Will you finally agree to help us with the operation?"

"He's ready." Bukigura confidently declared. "In all honesty, the kid's combat skills were already pro-level before he even got here, but with all of the weapons drills and the sparring we've been doing, his instincts and focus have been honed to a razor edge. If this whole thing weren't already skirting on the edge of illegal, I'd recommend that he assist in the fight itself."

"That won't be happening though," Tensei quickly added, "like I've been saying from the beginning, he's going to get out of there once we draw the Hero Killer out."

Omou closed his eyes. "I still don't like this, Tensei. I don't like this one bit." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter how big and athletic he is, or how talented he is at fighting, he's just a kid."

"He's a hero-in-training." Tensei replied. "And he's already been through worse than this. You've seen those scars on his face, he knows how cruel life and this job can be."

"That doesn't make this okay!" Omou exclaimed, raising his voice. "All you're doing is piling on to the trauma! At his age, he should be worried about his grades or girl troubles, not surviving an arranged run in with a murderous psychopath!"

"I get your concern, Omou, really, I do." Tensei sighed, "I hate this. I wanted to be the kind of hero that inspired others and made them smile, but that kid down there looks at me like I'm worse than the villains we're fighting. Whenever I imagine what Tenya would say to me if he knew what I was making his classmate do…it makes me sick to my stomach."

"Oh," Omou drawled sarcastically, "well I suppose that it makes it all okay then—it doesn't matter what you do as long as you feel bad about it, the ends justify the means, right?"

Tensei's eyes hardened, "I will do what I must. I have to bring Stain to justice…why don't you understand that I have to put this to an end before he hurts anyone else!"

"Because you aren't doing this for justice, or for Native, you're doing it for yourself!" Omou exploded. "I've known you for years, Tensei! You're letting your anger and your grief blind you to the fact that this is fucking unacceptable! For god's sakes, Tensei, he's Tenya's age!"

"Then what would you have me do?" Tensei shouted right back, "All of your data indicates that he'll be killing again tonight! Do you want me to just sit back and let him target someone who won't even see it coming, just so it'll soothe your moral sensibilities?"

"No!" Omou slammed his fist onto the desk, "I want you to trust me to do my goddamn job! I'll find him, Tensei! You just have to give me a little more time, you owe me that!"

"Tonight." Tensei was calm, unsettlingly so, as he delivered that single word. "You have until tonight, I don't have any more time to give you. I'm taking him on patrol in a few minutes, but if you don't find him before 17:00, then I'm proceeding with the plan whether you agree to help us or not. End of story."

Bukigura let out a cough, feeling awkward in the tense atmosphere. Tensei had brought him in as a third party on this case because of his weapons expertise. It wasn't unusual for firms to collaborate in a pinch, but the inter-agency competition for the prestige of taking down high profile villains was cutthroat, and you simply didn't get any more high profile than the Hero Killer. At the moment, Bukigura wasn't even in the top 200 most popular heroes, so he leapt at the chance to get a piece of the glory, but didn't expect to be caught up in the middle of a major rift between the two major powers in the Hero side of the Ingenium agency.

'Especially when the source of the tension is some foreign brat.' Bukigura was firmly on Tensei's side in this matter. If he had to weigh the life of himself and the lives of however many of his colleagues would fall before the Hero Killer was finally caught against the life of some unstable foreigner, he knew which he would pick in an instant.

"Fine." Omou conceded. "I'll help you with this, Tensei. It goes against every single principle I have, but I'll help you."

Tensei's shoulders sagged in relief, "Thank you, Omou. This is—"

"Shut up, Tensei." Omou harshly cut him off, "I wasn't finished." Taken aback, Tensei shut his mouth and went still. After eyeing him for a moment to make sure that he would indeed remain silent, Omou continued. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for that kid, because I don't need the death of a teenager on my conscience."

"That won't happen." Tensei swore, "I'll die myself before I allow it."

"You better be right, Tensei." Omou said, "Because if your little plan gets him crippled or killed, you can consider our partnership and our friendship over."

(Ingenium Agency Locker Room)

As he got dressed, Allen couldn't help but smile a little; even the prospect of being gutted by a sword-wielding homicidal maniac couldn't completely ruin his excitement for his first patrol. Sure, that aspect rained…no, hailed on his parade, but he was finally going to do some hero work!

"You remember the plan right?" Tensei asked him, his voice slightly distorted by his helmet.

Allen's face soured. 'And here's the first hailstone. I have to share my big moment with THIS asshole.'

"Yeah, yeah," He replied, "I remember. You only spent the last three fucking days going over it." He scowled. "Couldn't I have gone with Bukigura-san instead?"

Tensei shook his head. "The fact that you're interning with me is public knowledge thanks to the tweets we've been putting out. Bukigura's involvement in this is something that we're keeping secret for the time being."

"Wonderful." Allen sighed before moving to leave the locker room. He stopped when he felt an armored hand grab him by the shoulder.

Allen roughly shook off Tensei's hand and whirled around. "Don't fucking touch me!" He growled, "In case you forgot, I still hate you!"

Tensei sighed and held out his hands in a gesture of acquiescence; his voice carried a tone of tired resignation. "That's fine. I can't change the way you feel about me, but I just wanted to warn you—be mindful of the way that you talk to me in public."

"Why should I?" Allen spat, "Worried that your Stain bait will embarrass you? That I'll hurt your precious image?"

"No." Tensei shook his head. "I'm worried that you'll hurt yours. Respect is a big deal in Japan, Fasuto-kun. You told me when you first came here that you wanted to help change the public perception towards the American military presence here in Japan. If people see you treating me with blatant disrespect in public, it won't reflect badly on me, but on you. The reality of the situation is that I'm both your elder and a top 20 hero, and you…well, you're not exactly the most beloved person in Japan at the moment."

Allen initially opened his mouth to retort, but cut himself off and stood in thoughtful silence as he contemplated Tensei's point. 'Fuck…he's right. I don't want to admit it, but he's totally right…even though he's a fucking douche, I'll just be shooting myself in the foot if I call him out in public. I need to focus on the big picture.'

"Fine." Allen agreed. "You're still a dick, but I guess you have a point. I'll play nice for now."

"Excellent." Tensei said, "Now that that's out of the way, let's get moving."

(The Streets of Hosu City)

Luckily for Allen and his rather poor acting skills, he did not have to do much in the way of pretending to suddenly respect Ingenium again. As the two walked through the city, Tensei alternated between trying to pass on various the various bits of wisdom that he'd accumulated during his time as a pro hero and occasionally taking moments to greet the various citizens who approached him. During these interactions, Allen mainly hung back and kept his mouth shut, not trusting in his ability to keep his bad attitude towards Tensei completely in check.

"Fasuto-kun," Tensei asked, "Do you know why the majority of pros patrol during the day, even though most of the crime occurs at night?"

"No idea." Allen replied, "But I get the feeling that you're about to tell me."

Tensei shook his head, "No, but I'll give you a hint, it's the same reason that we wear costumes and the police wear uniforms."

Allen rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow, trying to sort out the underlying lesson Tensei was trying to impart. Credit where credit was due—for all that Tensei was screwing Allen over with his social media and the whole Stain situation, the man clearly took his role as a mentor seriously. "It's all about visibility…right?"

Tensei smiled and nodded. "Exactly. If the government's only priority was simply stopping illegal quirk usage when and where it happened, it might be more effective if we had licensed people in plainclothes ready to take out villains while they were unaware. By making our patrols during the day, at the busiest hours, we constantly remind the public of our presence and that acts as a powerful deterrent for would-be villains. The best example of this phenomenon is All Might—the mere rumor of his presence in an area immediately drops crime by over 90%."

Allen snorted. "Yeah I bet. Criminals are usually pretty dumb—that's why they're criminals—but you'd have to be a whole 'nother level of stupid or crazy to want to tangle with him."

~duDooop~ The tiny earpiece Allen and Tensei were wearing sounded of in their ears, stopping them in their tracks. On their end of the line, they could hear Omou let out a heavy sigh.

"This is Overwatch. I…couldn't find him." Omou's voice held a tone of utter defeat. "All of my models say that he should be active right now, but it's like he vanished off the face of the earth in the last hour or so…go ahead and begin the operation."

Tensei nodded grimly and pressed the tiny button that turned on the microphone installed in his helmet. "Understood…I'm sorry, Overwatch."

"Don't." Omou flatly rebuked Tensei; "What's done is done. An apology is the last thing I want to hear from you right now…just promise me you'll remember what's most important in this."

Tensei took a deep breath and nodded. "I won't forget." He swore, "No matter what happens, or what I have to do, I'll live up to our deal."

"…Good." Omou replied. "Now let's nail this fucker to the wall."

Through his own earpiece, Allen listened to the conversation between Tensei and Omou with a mounting sense of confusion. 'What was that all about?'

(Hosu City—Back Alleys)

Allen figured that it was just his nerves getting the better of him, but once the sun had fully set, the growing darkness made the walls of the dirty alleyways and side streets of Hosu seem to close in on him, making him feel claustrophobic and jumpy. Before long, Allen found himself twitching at every tiny noise and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears while he checked every shadow for the menacing silhouette of the Hero Killer.

"Stain!" Allen shouted into the still night air, "Get out here and face me like a man, unless you're too scared to fight against a real hero!"

~Boooooooom~

Almost as if it were an answer to his challenge, an explosion sounded off in the distance and Allen flinched in surprise at the unexpected disturbance on what was, all things considered, a quiet night.

Wanting answers, Allen touched the switch to the tiny microphone attached to the collar of his jacket and pulled it close to his mouth. "Okay, uh…Omou…shit, I mean Overwatch," he stammered, having to remind himself to use codenames in the field. "This is Fasuto. What the fuck was that explosion just now?"

"Overwatch here, I'm already on it, Fasuto…oh, fuck."

"Bukigura reporting in…what's the sitrep, Overwatch?"

Omou's voice was grim. "There's been a major villain attack, about five blocks from your location. The reports are saying that several villains appeared almost out of thin air and began attacking people…seemingly at random."

"Shit…tonight of all nights." Tensei swore over the line. "Overwatch, do we have a description of the perps?"

"Initial reports are describing them as inhuman-looking with exposed brains."

Allen inhaled sharply. "That description," he said into the mic, "it sounds just like that guy who attacked us during the USJ, the one who went toe to toe with All Might!"

"The League of Villains…" Omou muttered, "Ingenium, we need to abort the mission and focus on the attack happening right now."

"Are you certain about this, Fasuto?" Tensei asked.

"Yeah," Allen replied, "it's pretty hard to mistake something like that. How many people with exposed brains have you ever met?"

There was a heavy moment of silence as Tensei contemplated the proper course of action. "…Understood. I'm suspending the operation. Overwatch, contact all of the sidekicks you can and direct them to the scene; Bukigura and I will head to the scene now; Fasuto…you get back to headquarters."

"What?" Allen protested, "Why? I can help too!"

"That's an order Fasuto-kun." Tensei's voice held no compromise. "You aren't allowed to fight, and I know for a fact that your class never actually finished its rescue training, so no, you can't help. Just return now."

"Shit…understood. Fasuto out." Try as he might, Allen couldn't actually argue with Tensei's logic. Without any knowledge of evacuation or rescue procedures, he was more likely to get in the way than help over there. Frustrated, Allen kicked over a nearby trashcan and began to walk back to the main street.

The first and only clue Allen was no longer alone in the dingy alley was a sudden, strong, and painful impact to his mid-back and the distinctive ~clack~ of metal on pavement. When he spun around to identify what had just hit him, Allen paled at the sight of the throwing knife that had bounced off of his armor lying on the ground, gleaming wetly in the dim light.

The first thought to go through Allen's head when he saw the knife was that it would have pierced his heart if he hadn't been wearing his armor. The second was 'Oh FUCK!'

After his second thought, Allen didn't bother wasting any time looking for the source of the blade. He darted to the nearest wall and planted his back against it to prevent any further sneak attacks. He desperately pawed at his collar until he found the button to his mic and shouted "He's here he's here he's here!" in a panic, searching the shadows for any sign of the man out for his blood.

"I'm on my way now." Tensei replied instantly. "But I'm about two minutes out. I need you to hold on until then!"

"To stop my blade like that…that must be quality armor you've got there." A cold, confident voice cut through the still night air. "I wonder: was it a reward for your little performance at the UA festival, or was it to protect you from the consequences from your empty boasting the last two days?"

~clump clump clump~

Allen could hear footsteps approaching him, but he still couldn't see anything. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" He muttered, "Where the hell are you guys?"

~Shiiiick~ Allen swallowed hard at the instantly recognizable sound of a sword being drawn.

"Whatever the case may be, that armor won't save you from receiving your judgment, child."

Stain appeared, slinking out of the shadows with feline grace, his every motion revealing his role as a predator. His red eyes were narrowed at Allen, simultaneously filled with a combination of burning conviction and cold rage that sent a chill down Allen's spine and locked up his chest in terror. Perversely, Allen was reminded of the intense pressure that he had felt from All Might in his first hero class.

"This rotten society is filled with worthless trash who sully the name 'Hero'. I will reclaim that name by purging this world of the false idols." As Stain stalked closer and closer to him, the air grew thick with the smell of copper.

'No, not copper.' Allen realized, 'it's blood. He smells like blood.' Swallowing hard, Allen raised his fists. 'I fucking knew it. "You won't have to fight" my ass.'

"It makes no difference whether you fight me or not." Stain told Allen. His voice held the certainty of someone stating an inescapable fact. "You will fall, because you are a fake. Nothing but a pretender wearing a costume."

Not bothering with a quip of his own, Allen activated his quirk and dashed in with blistering speed, slipping past the sword and surprising Stain enough that he leapt backwards just barely avoiding the long uppercut Allen sent towards his chin.

In a reflex drilled into him over the last two days, rather than continue to press the attack, Allen shifted his weight and cut an angle to his left, avoiding the throwing knife that whistled through the space that had previously been occupied by his head.

Without missing a beat, Stain darted forward with a vertical slash that Allen avoided by slightly twisting his body and deflecting the course of the blade with his bracers. With the opening created by the successful defense, Allen tried to front kick Stain in the stomach, but only scored a glancing blow when the assassin back stepped away from the kick.

As he moved backwards, Stain slashed downwards at Allen's extended leg with a two-handed swing that loudly scraped across his shin guard and threw off Allen's balance. Allen stumbled backwards and was forced by his precarious footing to duck and roll away from the lunging stab Stain used as a follow up to his previous attack.

'Jesus Christ this guy is fucking unreal!'

Allen couldn't believe it. Even at 4X, he was only barely keeping up. Not only was Stain generally fast—he was frighteningly sudden. His moves had virtually no wasted motion to them and his tells were almost non-existent. Stain's unblinking and focused eyes smoothly followed Allen's movement, effortlessly seeing through every feint, dirty trick or tactic that Allen tried to throw at him.

'This feels like fighting someone on the level of my dad…fuck…I think that Stain might be a master level martial artist.'

Shaken by this realization, Allen tried to take a step another step backwards, but found his retreat halted when he backed into something solid. Surprised by the unexpected barrier, Allen briefly turned around, and realized that he had quite literally been backed into a corner. 'What? When did this happen?' Allen's heart constricted with fear at the grim satisfaction of Stain's face. 'Has he been herding me here this whole time?'

The time it took Allen to check the wall behind him was the only opening Stain needed. When he turned back around, Allen saw a flash of silver in the corner of eye and instinctively turtled up, covering his face with his armored forearms. His desperate block saved him from the sword, but it also left him open to a vicious knee to the stomach that knocked him out of Fast Forward and left him retching, doubled over in pain.

Seizing upon the opportunity, Stain grabbed Allen by the throat, slammed him against the wall hard enough that he briefly lost consciousness and punched him multiple times in the nose, breaking it and sending a trail of blood flowing down his face.

Because Allen's eyes were unfocused and his vision blurry from the brutal assault he had just sustained, he failed to witness Stain lick Allen's blood off of his fist, but he certainly noticed the effects when he felt his body lock up from the neck down.

"Any last words before you die?" Stain asked, effortlessly pinning Allen against the wall with one arm. "You fought well for someone so young, so I'll listen to what you have to say, as long as you make it fast. I've got other scum that I need to deal with tonight as well."

"Last…words?" Allen slurred, awareness returning to him as the seconds ticked by, "Yeah…actually I do have something to say…" Allen dropped his head and mumbled.

"What did you just say to me?" Unable to make out Allen's words, Stain forcibly lifted his head and leaned in close to hear him better.

Allen looked up and flashed a bloody smile at Stain. "I said look behind you, asshole."

Seeing the triumphant look on Allen's face, Stain looked over his shoulder and widened his eyes at the sight of an armored foot approaching his face at a blistering rate.

AN: *Laughs evilly*. Stain is one scary motherfucker, and frankly, Midoriya and Todoroki are just lucky he wasn't actually trying to kill him because he's the real deal. An S-Class villain who's much stronger, faster, and more dangerous than he has any right to be, given his quirk. Let me know what you think in the reviews, and until next time, PLUS ULTRA!