Chapter Forty-Five
Shattered
"It was a wicked and wild wind,
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums:
People couldn't believe what I'd become."
- Viva la Vida (Coldplay)
Eraserhead followed the target through the infested streets, his mind set on only one goal:
Kill Present Mic.
Of course, Father didn't want him to make a scene of it, so he was patient in waiting, waiting, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
That moment came sooner than he'd expected as the blond man turned into an alleyway. It was suspicious, but as he activated his full Erasure Quirk, he was able to peer through the nearby cameras. None showed the blond. In fact, the others around were void of life entirely, unless they were aimed at the streets.
Good, no cameras where the target was. He'd make this as quick as he could and go to Father to celebrate his success.
He deactivated his Quirk and pulled the eyepatch from his left eye, just as someone bumped into him. The businesswoman murmured some apology without looking up from her phone, but he was too busy restraining his murderous instinct to get a good look at her.
Insolent bug… No, no, no: he had a mission, and the random woman wasn't his target.
Eraserhead let the businesswoman walk away so he could slip into the alleyway and pull on his mask and capture weapon in one fluid motion.
Something about the area seemed familiar, as if he'd once seen this place in a dream, but he didn't dwell on the trivial as he noticed a door close nearby.
There.
He trailed up the small flight of steps and tried the handle, but it was locked. That wouldn't stop him though as he threw his shoulder against it, no longer caring about the element of surprise. With that one thrust, the door splintered open, rocking on its hinges as he entered.
The room was dark, but it was clean and tidy, with no furniture to fill up the space. It wasn't especially big, but quite a few people could've fit inside. The walls had a strange gleam to them, but he didn't pay attention to that insignificant detail.
At the end of the room was a curtain, which no doubt hid a stage behind its rough cotton veil. There was no sign of his target, but there was another door that read 'Staff Only' to the side. Eraserhead stepped towards it, but was stopped by a voice.
"[Woah baby,] can't you read? Staff only!"
Eraser turned to the stage, just as the red curtains parted to reveal his target. He'd had a complete costume change since moving through the streets only moments ago.
Now he wore a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows. His neck was covered by a large speaker, but he wore several more on a belt around his waist. His face was hidden beneath triangular lenses, heavy headphones and a metal beaked mask. The lower half of the mask's jaw was unhinged, revealing a mouth full of white teeth and a small moustache beneath. His blond hair was long and impossibly tall, and his gloves looked of identical design to his.
His target appeared unarmed, although he held an electronic guitar at the ready.
Although his Erasure was focused on the target, he appeared strangely unaffected. Mic's mouth stretched into an even wider grin and he righted his orange specs like nothing was amiss. Eraserhead drew a knife and stepped towards his target, planning to end this as quickly and efficiently as possible.
The lights of the small bar flickered off without warning. He heard the metal scrape of old curtains closing. "[It's show time, Dearest Listener.]"
Dark smoke filled the room, followed by flashing lights of red, blue and green that made Eraserhead momentarily dazed.
A rush of red reached from his right, but Eraser dodged and forced himself forward, deeper into the room and smoke. He turned to get a view of his attacker, only to hear the door slam shut behind him. No one was there.
The lights kept changing, flashing against his eyes to offer a disturbing sense of vertigo.
His attacker was too lost in smoke for his Quirk to work, but the rush of red had given away their identity: Vlad King. However, he was distracted by the sound of an electric guitar and a voice that shook him to his very core.
"[It kills me not to know this, but I've all but just forgotten, what the colour of your eyes were, and your scars or how you got them,]" sang Present Mic, his Quirk not yet active. This could get dangerous if he let this continue.
Eraserhead leapt away from another red pillar and beelined directly for the stage, although finding it through the cloud of smoke was a different matter entirely. As he rushed through the vapours, the voice continued.
"[As the telling signs of age rain down, a single tear is droppin', through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten~…]"
He reached the stage, just as the guitar picked up. From beyond the curtain he heard the strings, and Eraser didn't waste any time in tearing them down. Thick folds of red ripped from the rusty ceiling beams. They dropped with a heavy thud and the cloud of smoke dissipated around the stage, leaving an eye of clarity in the storm.
Present Mic stood at the centre of the platform, with smoke billowing as he continued to play the guitar without hesitation. Despite Eraserhead's close proximity, the man was too caught up by his playing to run.
The spotlights turned on Eraser, like an expectant audience, blinding him with their glare. For just a moment he was in the middle of a stadium, and the rock of the guitar was muffled by cries of disdain.
However, whatever was broaching on his consciousness was wiped out by the sound of something real slicing the air. Eraser turned just in time to avoid a blade of blood. His free hand instantly reached up, snared the crimson weapon and squeezed, crushing the crystallised Quirk like glass.
Despite the attack, Vlad King himself had yet to appear - even so, he wasn't Eraser's target anyway. The villain turned back to the stage as the lyrics resumed.
"[There is no reconciliation that will put me in my place,]" Mic sang, the words bouncing harmlessly around the room… Wait… "[And there is no time like the present, to drink these draining seconds.]"
His Erasure Quirk wasn't affecting him!
Eraserhead wasted no time. He threw his blade at the target, and his target didn't even dodge.
"[But seldom do these words ring true,]" sang the hero, even as the knife sunk squarely into his chest, but… "[When I'm constantly failing you…]" From the knife wound did not emerge blood: instead there were sparks. "[With walls that we just can't break through,]" he continued as spider-like lines spread across the air, like a wall of shattered glass. "[Until we disappear…]"
The screen flickered and turned black.
Wait… What?
The floor trembled. The voice of Present Mic grew louder and louder from all directions.
"[So tell me now, if this ain't love then how do we get out?]" The walls suddenly stretched towards the heavens, dragging the fog away from the room's centre, where a platform rose from the ground. Atop the new stage was a silhouette, with all but their shadowed outline consumed by a waterfall of smoke. In their hands was a guitar. "['Cause I don't know!]" The walls of the building flickered too, until every surface was a television screen with Present Mic swathed across it, his guitar at the ready and a grin flashing beneath the bird mask.
Eraserhead activated his full Erasure, but there were zero cameras in the nearby vicinity. What? There had been cameras in the streets when he'd first entered the building! Had they all been destroyed?
Whatever theory he'd been trying to cobble together was instantly unimportant as the chorus started and Present Mic's Quirk nearly sent him flying.
"[That's when he said, 'I don't HATE YOU, boy, I just want to SAVE YOU, while there's still something LEFT TO SAVE!']"
Eraserhead's feet skidded across the floor. His scarlet lenses cracked. He covered his ears, his mind shaken from the point-blank Voice Quirk. The sound echoed from all directions. Hot warmth leaked from his ears and ran down his neck, but there was no relenting in the agony.
"[That's when I told him, 'I LOVE YOU, boy, but I'm not the ANSWER for the questions that YOU STILL HAVE!' WOAH~! WOAH~!]"
The lyrics slipped into the guitar and the visions of Present Mic shredded away. Eraser's gaze was blurry as more warmth rolled from his ears and the room vibrated with nausea. The lights beamed in his eyes - onslaughts of red, green and blue - and he thought he felt a cold wind whip over him. For a moment, he wasn't in the giant cage, surrounded by visions of his target: he was on a rooftop with a large metal cube across from him.
"[But the days pressed on like crushing weights,]" continued his enemy, with no Quirk involved. "[For no man does it ever wait.]" Eraser approached the cube as he pulled a new dagger from his belt. Smoke billowed around him as he moved, and for a moment he thought it was the work of smoke bombs rather than smoke machines. "[Like memories of dying days,]" sang the voice, the images continuing to play without pause, "[that deafen us like hurricanes!]"
Vlad King hadn't reappeared. He was probably hidden away somewhere the voice couldn't reach him.
That Enemy didn't matter anyway. His targe was atop the new platform. Eraser had to reach him.
"[Bathed in flames we held the brand, uncurled the fingers in your hand,]" continued the voice without hesitation. Eraserhead partially unravelled his thorned scarf from around his neck and flung it upwards, to wrap it around his target and tear them down. However, moments before it could reach, a wall of red exploded from just below the highest platform. His thorned scarf struck, but rebounded off the solid crystal.
Where was Vlad King?
"[Pressed into the flesh like sand,]" Mic sang as the screens around Eraser flickered with static. "[Now do you understand?]"
That was when the screens changed.
Instead of Present Mic rocking his guitar, some showed helicopter footage of a fight scene atop a building, with a metal cube. It wasn't the only shift though: many showed a stadium with a cement stage at its centre, where two young children fought for supremacy...
Well, it wasn't much of a fight as the dark-haired child kicked the blond one around with zero restraint, and Present Mic's voice kicked back in. "[So tell me now, if this ain't love, then how do we get out?]" The wall of crystallized blood above crumbled without warning. The pieces fell like hail, all aimed at Eraser, and he did his best to avoid the solid chunks. "['Cause I don't know~]"
However, one of the crimson pieces flew back up from the floor and latched directly onto his mask. He tried to pull it off, but then the voice Quirk resumed.
"[That's when he said,'I DON'T HATE YOU, boy, I just want to SAVE YOU while there's still something LEFT TO SAVE!']"
The frequency of this attack was different. It didn't mess with his head as much as the previous one, but he felt it vibrate his mask… No, it vibrated the crystal on his mask, and-
Beside his foot, one of the clumps burst like a shrapnel grenade, sending sharp shards in all directions. The edges cut into his clothes and sliced his skin. They stung, but the pain was nothing, and the damage was minimal, except...
"[That's when I told you,'I LOVE YOU, boy, but I'm not the ANSWER for the questions that YOU STILL HAVE!]"
The crystal on his mask exploded.
The force rocked his body, although his footing remained firm. His mask's round crimson lenses completely shattered with the shrapnel, leaving his eyes uncovered. Through the searing spotlights, he came face to face with a wall of Present Mics, all rocking away on guitars…
This was so wrong. Mic was fighting alongside the Enemy.
The image of he and the blond standing back to back on a speaker-lined stadium flashed through his mind.
But… why?
Guess we're ready for our big showdown, baby, unless you're planning to go traitor on me?
Pain resonated through his head, far sharper than the shrapnel that'd sliced his body. Hot blood rolled down his face. His right eye burned, burned, burned. He couldn't see from it. Above the fogged scene, Present Mic's silhouette continued to play.
"[One thousand miles away, there's nothing left to say, but so much left that I don't know…]"
More blood blurred his vision, and he couldn't quite blink or rub it away. Was his eye damaged by the shrapnel? It didn't matter - he could see perfectly with the left.
His thorned scarf unravelled again and floated about his shoulders, but this time he threw his entire body forward. Eraser's boot cracked the first screen as he propelled himself up into the air, hurling the length at the silhouette once again. He noticed another wall of red form overhead from somewhere unseen, but not before he saw something peculiar…
The smoke trickled through Present Mic.
All around, the screens barraged him with a peculiar picture that made his mind turn temporarily blank.
It was of two young boys sitting beneath a cherry blossom tree. They wore matching uniforms, although their expressions were vastly different: one grinned like nothing could go wrong, while the other appeared displeased to be pulled so close.
It's a promise, Sho. Let's take a photo to commemorate it!
"[We never had a choice, this world has too much noise! It takes me under…]"
Eraserhead's body moved of its own accord. His boot slammed against the closest screen. Sparks flew as the image of the cherry blossoms caved inwards.
"[It takes me under once again.]"
Realisation struck as the crystal wall above crumbled into more future shrapnel grenades. The podium in the middle of the room was hollow and the Present Mic above was-
Eraserhead wrapped his capture weapon around two crystal spheres and flung them at the pink screens. Before they could smash the images, they liquified. Blood sprayed across the two boys and ran down, colouring the falling cherry blossoms like crimson prison bars.
"[I don't hate you~]"
Vlad King had fallen for it. The podium was hollow and the Blood Quirk didn't want it harmed, so that could only mean one thing:
His target was inside.
"[I don't hate you, no~]"
Eraser's boot touched down on the ground, but only rested there momentarily as he sprung himself forward, forward, forward, towards the blushing faces. The screen held momentarily as he smashed against it, but then gave way.
"[So tell me now, if this ain't love, then how do we get out? Cause I don't-]"
Electricity tore through his body, but compared to the shocks Father dosed him with as punishment, these were harmless. His assumption was correct: the podium was hollow. The music stopped.
However, Present Mic wasn't inside.
Instead, Eraser came face to face with Vlad King and a white rodent wearing a suit. Both wore gasmasks over their faces and thick headphones over their ears. All around them were flashing lights, and dials and switches, and he could see directly through the walls. It was obvious what this was then: a control centre full of two-way screens. They'd been able to watch him without cameras.
No Present Mic… However, these two could help draw him out.
He stepped towards his new prey, but before he could even raise his knife, he was stopped by a voice from behind.
"[I don't hate you, boy,"] sang a rough voice. A guitar played alongside it, but the sound was far softer than the earlier roaring. He could hear the real fingers on the strings. "[I just want to save you, while there's still something left to save…]"
Present Mic had willingly lost his final chance to use his devastating Voice Quirk: the true cost of having allies within a blast radius.
Eraserhead turned to face his living, breathing target.
Well, now minus the breathing part.
That's when I told you, 'I love you, boy, but I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have.
The walls hadn't actually stretched: the floor had lowered. The stage where the real Present Mic stood was now above him, the ruined red curtains desperately clinging to the ledge.
I don't hate you~
The screen beside the real Mic sparked where the knife had struck earlier, but it was turned to reveal a back area behind it, where his target had been hidden the entire time.
I don't hate you~
Some of the screens continue the pre-recorded footage of him rocking away, despite the muted music.
The man hadn't had time to change. He wore civilian clothes and his long blond hair hung messily around his shoulders. He was wearing the bird mask and orange specs and headphones, but the lower jaw of the beak was shut so his mouth was hidden. The large speaker covered his neck as well, and although his breathing had stopped, his fingers continued to play the guitar. The gloves looked identical to Eraser's.
I don't hate you~
I don't hate you, no~
His target was out of hiding and out of tricks.
Good.
Eraserhead would make his Father proud.
