Chapter 3: One Step Forward

Wednesday, June 14

6:30 A.M.

Acarius Aediath lay on the deceptively comfortable bed of his apartment, pondering the next step of his grand plan. Today was the day of his debut as an official "Hero" working in the service of the Russian Federation. Chief Petrov planned a raid of a recently located Bratva headquarters set to happen this afternoon, around four o'clock. There, the wizard would have to prove his worth to this government by smiting its enemies, something that should probably disgust him more than it did. It was a necessary action to propel him forward in this society, easily outweighing any moral hangups he had about doing some organization's dirty work. Plus, he wouldn't have to take any lives.

For once in his gods-damned life.

Even trying to be a simple instructor had ended up with him slaughtering a fortress full of necromancers, and killing one power-mad rogue Thalmor for the sake of the College. This time, however, he wouldn't stoop to the level of a common thug or hired assassin.

Getting up from his prone position, he went over to his modest closet to peer on his newest purchase. Hanging on a simple clothes hanger was an immaculate set of black robes, nearly identical to the mantled robes he wore now, with some small exceptions. Where his current robes were of simple make, being what he fled his homeland in, these were carefully tailored to his exact specifications. The hood and major parts of the garb were jet-black, more for practical purpose than any sense of style, with the inlay being a silver that created a pleasant juxtaposition to his eye. All across the robe were runes and symbols, gray to stick out, while also keeping the tone of the outfit dark. The symbols covered nearly every inch of the garment, and not for just aesthetic reasons. He needed to transfer the enchantment on his tattered Robes of Exile to this new outfit.

Being a Hero in this world was about more than your deeds, he learned. Heroes were expected to have a public image, even if they desperately wished to avoid the spotlight as he did. A strange man running around in a tattered outfit and wielding a wild power such as his wouldn't be well received from the public, no matter his intentions. The solution was to present a motif, a personality that the people can latch on to. His research showed that people pretty much accepted any strange appearance given off by a Hero, no matter the nature of it. Therefore, he would make his motif something he was intimately familiar with - magic.

There was an irony in trying to assuage fear of the unknown by making himself appear as the unknown. Wizardry was something strange and archaic to the common people of earth. Old fantasy and historical mystery. The perfect disguise for this wizard was to dress as a wizard. Acarius Aediath was a Hero pretending to be a mage, not a mage pretending to be a Hero. Every Hero needs a costume, and his costume would be this enchanted mage robe. Now, he just needed a Hero name.

Over the last week or so, he thought of several names to go with his new persona, but he was hesitant in actually using them. Something about it just didn't feel right at the moment, and he didn't need to hold a press conference or something. For now, he would be fine with being in the background of any reports of the upcoming raid, and using his own name if he was to be mentioned. He wasn't some destined star of the Hero world, like All Might. No need for more attention to himself while his cover was still forming.

His preparations for tonight's festivities were basically complete, save for one task that he was putting off for good reason. All attempts to fabricate an enchanting table proved fruitless, but he still felt that he needed some edge in combat with Quirks. So, he would have to employ a ritual that would bring him great pain, but also tools of equal greatness. The ritual was known as Rune Smithing, an obscure magical art known to very few in the Summerset Isles, and understood by even fewer. His former mentor was the undisputed master of the craft, with himself probably being the second best. It was a magical ritual that was both delicate and forceful, artistry and butchery.

Acarius was going to inscribe powerful magical effects directly into his own body.

That was Rune Smithing on a fundamental level. Using mundane ink and needle as a vessel for complicated spells that didn't rely on orthodox enchanting constraints. Instead of the enchantment relying on the power of a soul gem, the effects would drain his magicka directly. Giving yourself a homemade tattoo was already painful enough, but the danger and pain that the actual magic being forced into the body creates can't be stated enough. Careless experimentation with the art almost always ended in the excruciating demise of the unfortunate test subject. Something that his master gleefully showed him time and time again during his apprenticeship.

Now he was going to put his mastery of Rune Smithing to the test, with himself as the canvas. Standing in front of the mirror of his bathroom without a shirt, he used Telekinesis to hover the large needle he needed before him. He had looked into modern tattoo artists to see if their technology and technique could potentially save him from this process, but he wasn't willing to risk the magical backlash of using this world's technology just to save himself some pain. The only option was the slow, meticulous, and agonizing way. He pressed the inked needle into his left pectoral muscle, cringing at the immediate pain that blossomed. So began his first task.

An hour later, after seemingly endless amounts of precise stabbings, the first tattoo was complete. Wanting to start with something with less potential to kill him, his first permanent marking was the familiar avian figure used to represent Restoration. Located directly above his heart, it was a picture perfect recreation of the scholarly depiction of the school. Now, he needed to add the important part. Surrounding the protective wings of the Restoration figure, he drew six small wheels, three one each wing. This effect would be strictly limited to six charges, each being represented by the wheels. This was a very simple tattoo, and the effect was just as simple. He essentially locked six uses of the spell Close Wounds into his body, potentially saving his life six times per day. Like all of the effects of Rune Smithing, he would only need to will the spell to activate. But first, he had to align his magicka with the tattoo.

That task was tedious, requiring precise strokes of a brush dipped in the same ink as the tattoo, and even verbal components to bind himself to his bodily work. Nothing went catastrophically wrong during this process, thankfully. Now, he just needed to test the spell out.

He gripped the small switchblade knife he confiscated from that hoodlum earlier in the week, running the blade across his left forearm. The wound would need to be fairly deep, to ensure the spell was packing enough power to actually close mortal wounds. That thought didn't really comfort him as pain radiated from the open gash. His heartbeat was increasing, seeming to make the pain throb just as quickly. Blood was leaking out of the appendage now, staining his relatively clean sink with the waters of life.

Acarius willed the Wheel to turn, and so it did. The familiar soothing sensation of Restoration magic seemed to make the throbbing pain go away immediately, and he watched in the mirror as the bloody chasm in his forearm closed under the influence of a soft glow. Within a few seconds, his arm was completely restored, and without any scarring. This was good; whether or not a Restoration spell left a scar or not was usually dependent on the spell's strength. His current tattoo had sufficient strength to heal him of any potentially fatal wounds, he'd wager. On his torso, the top-right wheel changed from jet-black to a soft grey, signaling the charge being spent. No problems.

Seeing that the spell worked, the mage immediately began scrubbing his sink free of all of the blood from his arm, preparing for the next tattoo.

Over the next several hours, Acarius had managed to inscribe the transmutative tree of Alteration on his right shoulder, a swirling crest of Illusion on his stomach, and most importantly (and painfully), the burning hand of Destruction on his tongue. Getting the crest of Destruction on his tongue was no easy feat, requiring the use of a spectral Mage Hand to hold his needle while he kept the appendage still with his own hands. The pain was severe, but still not enough to deter him from reaping the benefits of the procedure, and not nearly as painful as some of the more creative Thalmor devices that were once used on him.

Said benefits of the crest imbued on his tongue were quite something. The more the mage learned about Quirks, the more worried he became about capture by the natives of Earth. Any Quirk that could read his mind might give away secrets that would surely put him into a mental institution. No one would believe the truth of the matter; he'd be seen as a delusional lunatic. That would be the only logical deduction one could make. Therefore, he needed measures to prevent him from being held captive for too long. Destruction magic that activated via the mouth would be a very useful tool to facilitate his freedom, as no one here should be able to seal his magic away, and he could make sure everyone knows that his magic is cast from his hands. Unless someone were to completely cover his lower face in iron or some such, they were sure to receive a fireball launched in their general direction. To ensure its success, he would have to keep this trump card secret in his encounters with enemy forces.

Speaking of his encounters with the enemy, whomever that may be, his Alteration tattoo would perhaps be his greatest boon in this place. Many powerful Quirk users had some facet of superhuman speed born from their abilities, either indirectly from flames like Endeavor, or All Might's overall superior traits, so survival would surely depend on hitting first. Something that also held true for his most dangerous encounters on Tamriel. It was usually powerful wizards who almost ended up capturing him, and Acarius always struck first in these instances. Casting speed was always a deciding factor in a battle between two wizards of similar skill. Alteration doesn't have any spells that increase one's casting speed, but it could absolutely be used to increase movement speed in combat. This tattoo should increase his speed significantly for as long as he had magicka, allowing him to keep up with all but the fastest speed Quirks.

The crest of Illusion had no benefits in combat, but he may find use for it in his everyday dealings. He wasn't very skilled in Illusion magic, as his training was more geared toward fighting than hiding behind falsehoods or conjured minions. However, the crest would allow him to cast a weak Charm spell on a single target, which may get him into places he otherwise couldn't. Useful against people who have no idea what magic is.

His task complete, the wizard pulled out his phone to look at the time. It was 11:30 now, so he still had time to soothe his inflamed skin and transfer that enchantment before the raid. Using the floating Mage Hand that was still idling around, he began straightening up the bathroom as he used the gentlest form of Healing he could muster to take care of the large patches of red on his torso. When he no longer felt like he had the strength of an eight year old girl, he began to deal with his robes.

Transferring an enchantment was actually rather easy once you learned the proper technique, assuming you don't care about the first item. It carried the toll of disintegrating the original enchanted item completely, preventing wanton swapping of powerful enchantments onto any random person's belongings without the owner realizing. In this case, losing his ragged and storied Robes of Exile was something he was completely fine with. Perhaps it was something he should have done a long time ago instead of hanging on to memories of people that no longer exist.

Soon that last arrangement was complete, and he was free to relax until it was time to show the world just what this broken mage was capable of.

Outside of Bratva Hideout

3:54 P.M.

Chief Petrov had come through with the address of their target at almost the last moment, clearly to prevent any kind of leak. Therefore, the enemy should have no idea that the police and "Heroes" were coming to break down their door. Along with the address, he was also given a dossier on the other Quirked mercenaries he would be working with. Something to read during the debrief.

Acarius had learned the city nearly inside and out by this point, so finding the scummy part of town the Bratva were ducking in wasn't difficult, and he was greeted by a large blockade of police vehicles on all the streets surrounding the target building. This abandoned warehouse district was once his hiding place after his displacement into this world. Little did he know that he had neighbors the whole time. He found the police chief talking to some heavily armored officers who would presumably be breaching with the Heroes. Giving a small wave to the other officers, he approached the commander to get his orders.

Petrov waved him over, not wasting any time. "Alright, Aediath, this is how it's going to happen. We have three squads of assault officers, one for each entrance of the hideout. Squad A will be taking the north side, B the east, and C the south. There are six of you freaks going in with the men, so you'll split up in pairs. You'll be going with Squad B."

The mage nodded, "Who's my Hero pairing?"

"Better you find out for yourself. She's already waiting with Squad B."

A clear dismissal. Very well. Acarius nodded once and took off in the direction of the squad of tactical officers that Petrov pointed out. As he walked, he kept an eye out for the other mercenaries that were being paired off. To his left, he spotted two figures who were certainly not part of the police force. One was a lanky man, fair-haired and wearing a white overcoat that was set off by gaudy yellow accented boots and gloves. He seemed quite jovial, chatting away with his partner, a stern-faced young brunette woman wearing a light blue jumpsuit. Unlike her partner, this one decided to wear armor into battle. Silver plating covered most vital parts of the jumpsuit, giving her an air of authority that the elf was sure she loved. They were hanging around what he presumed to be Squad A.

Pulling out the dossier, he quickly identified the two as Heroes who were known as Luminos and Taiga respectively. The man was a light manipulator, which made him a great breaching tool. Limited direct combat utility, he read. Apparently, his partner more than made up for that deficiency. Taiga was a first-class cryomancer, wielding an ice Quirk that was recognized on a world stage as the best. The frigid woman had a ruthless reputation, but her ability to handle situations quickly outweighed any personality defects one might criticize her for.

An odd pair, to be sure. This Taiga could pose a problem if she caught him unaware. He would make sure to keep an eye on her.

Further up, he caught sight of Squad C's pair of freaks. Hanging somewhat away from the officers was a massive figure, at least 8 feet tall, with thick muscle that was contained within a set of dark armor in a style that the mage had never seen. It was a design that clearly had modern-day influence more than historical. One large breastplate that reminded him more of the police's kevlar vests than a proper knight's armor, with some kind of mesh sleeves covering the arms. It was uncertain whether this was for practical or aesthetic reasons. The behemoth's blue eyes caught his, and a massive head full of blonde locks turned his way, giving one nod. Acarius returned the gesture and observed the man's partner instead.

In complete contrast to the hulking mercenary beside him, the lithe figure to his right was quite jovial, giving him a wave and chastising his friend for being rude. This smaller man also wore armor, but it seemed to be made of some kind of technology rather than inert metal. Parts of it were moving on their own, small discs whirling around for seemingly no reason. Quite strange.

Once more, he checked the dossier and read the profiles of the two men. Unlike the rest of the group here, these two were actually already a Hero pairing. Brick and Mortar. The giant was bulletproof, and the other could detonate certain chemical compounds at will. Apparently the fancy armor on Mortar was actually full of small pellets and balls containing his preferred materials to explode. It ejected it at his command and gave him ammunition. These two were a well-oiled machine working as sword and shield.

Moving on from his reconnaissance, he made his way to Squad B while reading the last entry in the dossier. The subject of his reading quickly greeted him. He looked up from the folder to see a woman in her early 30s with jet-black hair and a welcoming smile. She wore a simple ensemble of a dark shirt and pants, some boots, and a brown trenchcoat. Peering underneath the coat, he spotted her preferred weapons: a tranquilizer gun and a billy club. "Hello, I am Anya Volstaja. It is good to be working with you."

He shook her hand and replied, "I am Acarius Aediath. I look forward to seeing your capabilities first-hand. Apparently you're quite adept at nonlethal takedowns."

The woman's smile seemed to falter for a moment, but quickly became welcoming once more. "Yes, I do not enjoy seeing my enemies suffer," her gaze shifted toward the cryomancer on Squad A. "Unlike some people."

Personal issues during a life-or-death mission. Lovely. Well, he'd work with what he had. "I'll take point for you during the breach. My Quirk lends me some staunch durability, and I can be quite the nuisance at range. It should let you get finishing blows in, hopefully."

His new partner nodded before questioning him, "The dossier was very vague on the nature of your Quirk. I am still uncertain what exactly you do. Could you enlighten me?"

"It's difficult to describe. I'd rather you just see it firsthand."

Anya didn't seem incredibly put-off, but nonetheless kept glancing at him for the remainder of their debriefing. Eventually, the time for waiting passed, and the three squads began the mission proper. The 18 officers of the St. Petersburg Police Department were split into their three squads already, leaving six cops to every two mercs. Ideal for this operation.

The target building was a supposedly abandoned warehouse that was still paying for electricity, despite being owned by a bank. Single-story, generic brick that was in disarray. Blueprints showed that it had quite a few rooms, not just storage. Apparently it belonged to some long-bankrupt business that was forced to sell it, meaning it was just small enough to sweep with this force, but big enough to hide serious firepower and contraband. All of the adjacent buildings were abandoned as well, leaving them with some freedom to creep toward their target without fear of being spotted. Once their band was close, the three squads split up, with A going north, and B heading south. His squad continued on straight into the east entrance.

Both Anya and himself found themselves on either side of a dirty set of double-doors. Their escort split up with them, three on each side. As per protocol when working with mercenaries, they would breach first, assessing the threat and allowing the Quirkless officers to trail behind them to deal with the arrests. He met his partner's warm brown eyes, tight with anticipation, and nodded. The doors were unlocked, allowing them to quickly kick them open and enter. The two Heroes quickly found themselves in the warehouse's reception area, a decent-sized room that was actually furnished to look like its former purpose. Behind the main desk in front of them, a large grizzled man wearing a tanktop greeted them. Muscles that were on display from his attire and his crew-cut just screamed "close quarters specialist." Once they crossed the threshold, he spoke. "Well, now. Look what we have here. A couple of dogs working for some pigs. Alright boys, it's showtime!"

So they were expected. Not great. At his behest, four men wearing the uniforms of street toughs and carrying various melee weapons came from the room behind their leader. "I'll get the dogs, you dipshits get the pigs behind them."

Suddenly, the reception desk was ripped from the ground and was flying toward them. Anya reacted quicker than the mage, rolling elegantly out of the way, leaving him to make a dive in the other direction. The large piece of furniture collided with the doors behind them, leaving them in splinters as the desk came crashing back down, blocking the Tac Officers from coming in behind them. An opening move that sealed the entrance as well as potentially killing them. Clever.

Acarius leapt back on his feet, waiting for the hulking man to come his way. His partner was once again faster than him, already having pulled her tranquilizer gun out and taking aim at their foe. The four goons decided to get involved sooner rather than later, running past their boss to combat the gun-wielding woman. She shot her pistol at the first one, seemingly dropping him on the spot as he fell forward and dropped his weapon. Her billy club was out before the next one made it, deflecting a blow from some kind of wrench and cracking another thug on the head.

Thugs 3 and 4 wised up, stopping out of range of their opponent and readying their weapons properly, a baseball bat and a tire iron. Anya didn't wait. Much faster than they anticipated, she rushed the baseball bat, not allowing it room to swing as she grabbed the thug's arm with her left hand. Her billy club swung at the other thug, hitting his collarbone and making him drop the tire iron. He winced in pain, giving her time to strike at his head. Just as his friend was falling, the first thug attempted to punch at the smaller woman and free his weapon. She simply turned her body slightly, still holding on to the bat-wielding arm as the off-handed punch missed her. The club came down before he could recover, knocking him out as quickly as his friends.

Meanwhile, the Quirked Bratva enforcer set his sights on Acarius immediately stomping over with as much confidence as one might expect from a strength-enhanced barbarian. A meaty fist swung at the wizard, but a burst of Alteration magic kept him a step ahead. He stepped backward, allowing the barbarian's first to almost touch him, but not quite. His right hand grabbed the enforcer's arm instead, sending a touch spell into the man's system. The green flash of the Paralyze spell surrounded him, leaving him to awkwardly fall over in his fighting pose. So Paralyze works on even strength-enhanced Quirk users. Excellent.

He looked over at his partner, seeing her just finish off the fourth thug that went after her. She was quite fast and agile, and knew how to strike to put people down fast. That was good, he was glad he wouldn't have to carry this operation himself. "Anya, this one is paralyzed. Could you knock him out, please?"

The Russian woman looked somewhat disturbed to see the hulking man seemingly stuck in place, but nonetheless walked over and cracked his head with her club. "I believe he is unconscious."

Acarius nodded his thanks and turned around to the wrecked entryway of the warehouse. He raised both hands, casting Telekinesis to lift the large desk out of the way of the officers. Giving a shout of clear, he watched the officers swarm in and start cuffing the goons. "They know we're coming. Expect more resistance in the next rooms."

Within a minute, the gang members were all being shuffled out of the building by the six members of Squad A. Other officers came to process them immediately, allowing their breach to continue. Now, there were two doors ahead of them. One on the south side that leads into a large mess hall, and the other straight ahead from the main entrance. That door leads to an office area, based on their blueprints. The mess hall was in the path of Squad C, who were instructed to seal off entry into the storage area on their end until the rest of the building was secured. The office connected to a break room that also led into the storage area. Squad A was probably clearing said break room now. "Let's take the mess hall, Anya. A can clean up the other side." he decided.

Once more, the mage and Hero were on either side of a door, with no positive expectations of the interior. On Anya's signal, they burst through, him leading again. The mess hall was large, definitely larger than the reception area, and the office area as well. Many large rectangular tables were neatly arranged around the room, enough to seat at least 100 people. Odd for a warehouse to use its space in such a manner. Inhabiting the room were three individuals whose strange and diverse attire probably meant Quirked enforcers. A frail older man with darker skin, sporting a white beard and no shirt. A younger blonde woman in her 20s, wearing some kind of leather outfit that she probably thought was fashionable. She was playing with a set of two daggers, each straight and rather long for knives in this region. Something about her was also...twitchy. On edge, perhaps. Finally, a handsome man in his 30s who was wearing everyday clothing, but hefting a hatchet of all things. The ensemble didn't seem particularly surprised at their entrance, lazily getting up from seated positions in the middle of the room and preparing for a fight.

As Acarius prepared to make the first move, the twitchy young dagger-wielder vanished from his sight, only to be right in front of him in an impressive burst of speed. It was probably luck more than anything that stopped him from being stuck with one of the long knives of the enforcer. He managed to grab his assailant's arm before the blade could make contact with his torso. Just as he prepared Paralyze again, she retreated, getting out of range of the touch spell long before it could make contact.

Anya was pulling her tranquilizer gun out again, taking aim at the older gentleman who still hadn't moved yet. Before she could pull the trigger and put him to sleep, he raised one arm, causing the floor beneath her to warp and tear as a stone spike about a meter high shot out from under her. Cat-like reflexes allowed her to sidestep the hazard, but not before a larger piece of flooring was ripped out from under her, knocking her to the ground completely. Rolling out of the way of another spike meant to impale her, she pointed the gun once more and fired before she was overwhelmed. The dart was fast, but nonetheless it never made it to its target. A blonde speedster had plucked it out of the air long before it could hit the dark-skinned geomancer.

Acarius, seeing the tide turn, shot a green orb meant to immobilize the speedster, only to have her easily duck around it, letting it pass harmlessly away. He looked at the threats around him, the old man was definitely a glass cannon, providing long-range support and harassing them into positions easily exploited by the knife-wielding woman. And the third member, he was...gone. Nowhere to be seen. In those few seconds, he managed to completely vanish in this open room. Invisibility, it had to be. Shit. "Watch your six! The third is invisible!"

There was no time to suss out the man, he had to deal with this speedster and fast. Preparing a rune spell, he yelled to the blonde woman, "Hey, we weren't done, bitch!"

Said bitch immediately responded to his remark, turning away from Anya with an enraged look on her face and rushing in his direction in a perfectly linear fashion. Perfect. As soon as her attention was on him, he shot a small firebolt at her, hopefully distracting her from noticing his other hand placing the green Paralyze rune in front of him. Nimbly twirling around the fire, she continued straight towards him, knives ready, only to suddenly freeze 5 feet from her target, completely unable to move. A simple trap, when the enemy had no idea what your abilities were...and were of subpar intelligence.

Not wasting any time, he immediately cast Detect Life to find their invisible friend. His eyes flashed, and he looked around the room once more, trying to spot the purple light of Mysticism that would reveal the nondescript man. As he observed Anya trying to dodge a seemingly endless stream of spikes erupting from the ground beneath her, he saw a glowing figure creeping up behind her, waiting for an opportunity to take his hatchet to her flesh.

Stepping around the woman he dispatched, he shot two orbs at the glow, hoping that he wasn't looking in his direction. He wasn't. The glow seemed to halt its movement, before settling on the ground behind Anya and laying still.

His partner was managing to avoid the geomancer without his aid, still using superior agility to dance around the danger the man posed, so the mage turned back to his first opponent. She was lying helpless in her combat stance, still charging forward despite not moving. A boot came down on her head as he lifted the spell on her. Unconscious. Turning toward the old man, he shot two firebolts at him, testing his defenses, before running toward the paralyzed assassin.

A stone wall came up to intercept his small display of fire, not deterring the assault on the Russian woman at all. More firebolts were shot in that direction, hopefully splitting his attention enough to let Anya breathe. Those hopes were dashed immediately.

This old man, clearly experienced with his Quirk, had amazing concentration on his targets. He was sitting cross-legged on a pillar of stone, easily defending against his small firebolts while his assault on Anya never wavered. Well, the mage would clearly need to use more firepower. Acarius raised his right hand and began channeling magicka into a purple sphere.

Anya didn't seem to be tiring, and this geomancer clearly wasn't capable of attacking both of them without leaving himself wide open, so he took his time forming a perfect Thunderbolt. "Old man, block this!" he shouted, hoping that his target would bolster enough defense to actually survive.

His frail opponent turned his head toward the large sphere that was cracking with arcane power, and immediately began to form a stone wall between the two. Acarius waited for the defense to raise completely before unleashing his spell.

The purple bolt sprang from its orb, impacting the stone barrier like a cannon shot before continuing on to its destination. He knew that he hit his mark when the scream reached his ears and the wall began to crumble.

The mage calmly walked through the now ruined defense and saw Anya checking on the frail man. Their enemy was unconscious, slumped over on the ground and clutching at his side, which was now scorched with the telltale sign of a powerful shock spell. Still, he was alive, and would most likely survive if given medical attention.

Thankfully, the cops were now trailing behind them, sweeping the area and taking the downed criminals away in handcuffs. No deaths on his conscience. Good.

From the schematics of the warehouse, they were now in position to breach the main product area. Assuming the other squads actually did their jobs and cleared the hallways from the other entrances.

Acarius took another look at his partner, making sure that she wasn't injured or tired. To his surprise, she looked as fresh as when they started. Apparently physical activity didn't tire her as much as a regular person. Part of her enhancement Quirk, along with the speed and reflexes. She returned his look and readied herself at the door on the other side of the room.

Squad A radioed in, reporting their success, and C followed soon after. All of the exits were covered, and all six mercenaries could make their way into the final sanctuary of this hideout.

The tactical officers conversed over the radio for another minute, synching up for the breach. He joined Anya at the door and readied himself as well.

Three...two...one...

The doors burst open, Hero aiming her pistol and mage wielding fire at what awaited them. And what awaited them was...an empty warehouse floor. Racks and aisles that should have there were completely removed, leaving a wide open space with about a dozen men waiting for them. Most were fodder holding weapons like the ones in the reception area. Four looked more interesting, most likely the actual muscle.

They really were expected then, it wasn't just the goons at the front desk spotting the roadblocks. An ambush with this few people against a large police operation was strange though.

Before either Hero could take action, Squads A and C burst in as well. The cryomancer, Taiga, was leading the effort. She wasted no time after surveying the scene, raising her hands and releasing a frozen cataclysm onto the warehouse. Soon, the entire warehouse floor was covered in a thick layer of ice that stopped anyone from moving and the temperature dropped down significantly. All eight of the goons were encased in ice, probably still alive, before they could react. Two of the enforcers were clearly poised to move or use their Quirks, but were frozen the same way regardless.

Acarius had to raise a Ward just to prevent himself and Anya being caught up in the blizzard. It seemed that her reputation for careless destruction was well-deserved. He spotted the two surviving enforcers take position after avoiding the ice. Their survival was clearly not luck, as one clean-looking man in his 30s burst into flame to shelter himself from the frozen winds. His outfit, a formal business suit, certainly didn't seem like it belonged to a Bratva thug, but his strong fire Quirk surely indicated such. The other was a young man, early 20s perhaps, with blonde hair and dressed in what he assumed was normal streetwear for youths. His eyes clearly showed contempt for being put into this situation, or possibly for the police and Heroes making his life difficult. He lazily levitated himself away while raising a telekinetic shield not unlike Acarius's own.

Pyromancy and telekinesis. Both simple abilities, but clearly strong enough to withstand an assault like Taiga's with no preparation. Said hero was just about to follow up with another ice attack when the pyromancer unleashed a wave of red flame from his hands upon her instead. Put on the defensive, she had to concentrate on a barrier of freezing wind to keep from being scorched. Fire and ice clashed, sending both elements flying indiscriminately around their impact sites. No one wanted to intervene in that little contest.

Seeing that Taiga was occupied, the telekinetic turned his attention to Squad B. Anya's pistol fired a dart at the floating criminal, but it simply stopped a foot from his body. He hadn't even moved to stop it. Her martial prowess probably wasn't going to cut it here, so the mage took the lead and released a small fireball to test the Quirked youth's defenses. Cocky bastard just raised an eyebrow before slowly shifting in the air, letting the fire pass harmlessly around him. "Seriously?" he taunted.

Before he could let off another taunt, a small orb was launched in his direction from Taiga's direction. He turned his head and stopped it midair at the last moment, taking a moment to inspect it. A small explosion detonated in the youth's face, causing his flight to falter for a moment. As he recovered, the juxtaposed Hero pair Brick and Mortar of squad C entered the room behind Taiga, clearly picking the target who wasn't occupied. Mortar was holding his gauntlet up, having just launched some of his explosive compound at their assailant.

The Bratva brat's flight stabilized as he took in the enemies around him. "Four on one huh? Figures it'd take four of you losers to bring me down. Let's make this quick, I've got places to be."

Acarius wasn't going to allow this punk to fly freely around them when two of his allies lacked effective ranged options. The mage reached his own hands out and cast Telekinesis on the arrogant kid. He didn't really seem to expect a similar Quirk to his own to be used on him, as his resistance was pitiful. A loud thud echoed in the warehouse as he impacted the floor. Anya and Brick took immediate advantage of his grounding. Anya tried to use her tranquilizer again, but he barely managed to stop the dart once again, still struggling against a telekinetic hold. Nothing could be done, however, to stop the behemoth of Squad C from waltzing up to him and slamming his head into the paved floor. His struggles ceased immediately, indicating loss of consciousness. To be honest, that was easier than he thought it'd be.

Taiga was slowly overtaking the pyromancer, ice beginning to creep ever closer to him as he tried in vain to consume the Hero in flame. A dart landed in his neck before he could ultimately lose the struggle, courtesy of Anya, who was beginning to look annoyed at the icy Hero. The man slumped down onto the ground immediately, the tranquilizer taking effect, causing the ice to stop encroaching on his space. Anya's looks were pointedly ignored by Taiga as she stepped fully into the room and began looking around. "So was this all a waste of our time then? There has been nothing in this building except for thugs and mercenaries." she spoke harshly to the officers behind her.

Said officers, who were now coming in to collect prisoners, seemed taken aback by her words and the empty room in front of them. One spoke up after looking around. "Our intel said there was some kind of illegal Quirk operation happening in this building. Even if they learned of our raid, there's no way they could move any kind of equipment out of here without us knowing. We need to look around for evidence of their dealings."

His words didn't appease the cold woman, who simply walked off further into the room to begin her search. Brick stopped her before she could make it far. "Taiga, what happened to Luminos? Why didn't he join you here?" his deep voice questioned softly.

The scowl growing on her face grew deeper at the mention of her partner. "Idiot decided to take point instead of letting me just freeze everything. Got stabbed by some kid two rooms in. Nothing deep, but it's an insult to our profession to let clowns like that try and play Hero." she spat, walking off once more.

Brick simply nodded and walked off with Mortar, the two talking quietly among themselves as they walked back the way they came to search another room. Acarius turned to his own partner. "Where would you like to search, Anya? I can gather that you're rather perceptive." he indicated to the room before them.

A smile made it onto her face at the compliment. "There's something unsettling about this room. Largest collection of protection for an empty room? Surely there's something more here." she said. "What about your Quirk? It seems very versatile. You were able to locate that invisible man earlier. Is there some way you can find something suspicious in the room?"

He shook his head. "I can detect things or people from far away in the open, but walls and such hinder my ability drastically. None of my tools really help, unless we need to break a false wall or something of that manner." he replied.

Just to be sure, he cast Detect Life and peered around the room. No one was skulking around invisibly, thankfully. However, nothing caught his attention. That is, until he happened to look down. Far below the floor, he caught sight of a purple mist taking off further away, exiting the range of his sight. "Below us. There was someone below the floor, heading deeper down and farther away. A tunnel, most likely. We need to find the point of origin quickly." he quickly explained to Anya.

The information was relayed, and soon the officers were relaying the information to the forces outside. They would begin combing through the nearby buildings for some kind of tunnel entrance that lead to this warehouse. Anya was now carefully inspecting the floor, looking for some kind of tell indicating a false room. Eventually, she shouted Acarius over to her location, seemingly in the middle of the warehouse. She pointed to a section of floor that was somewhat dissimilar to the rest. Instead of being carefully maintained to allow forklifts and other vehicles over it, this section seemed rougher, hastily put together. In fact, it resembled the stone creations of the old man they had fought earlier.

He couldn't detect any presence with his spell, but it probably meant that the tunnel extended a little bit, or there were more physical barriers between them. Either way, they were on to something. A quick use of Telekinesis lifted the stone slab from the floor, moving it aside and revealing a clean, white set of stairs leading down into a dark hallway beyond their sight. The mage shared a look with Anya, who seemed just as eager as he was to see what awaited.

They turned to the nearest officer, who was leading a few others to the staircase. "We'll head down first, to see how long the tunnel goes. Give us a little time, and if we don't show up in ten minutes, send the other after us. We'll radio in if we need backup." he reasoned.

The officers seemed to approve of the plan, immediately informing Chief Petrov of the new development, who gave his blessing. Without any more delay, the two Heroes of Squad B began their trek down the stairs.

The first thing the two mercenaries noticed upon reaching the bottom of the stairs was the darkness. There appeared to be no natural light anywhere in the vicinity or even light fixtures around them. Only the daylight entering the warehouse from the entrance kept them from being without sight. This place was kept completely dark for one reason or another. A problem that was quickly fixed by a couple of casts of Candlelight. Anya gave a surprised look at the multi-colored orb of light that began to track her movement before focusing ahead. Carefully, they crept on.

It was a very well-kept hallway that they began to traverse: orderly and clean in a manner that was completely unlike the rest of this warehouse. If Acarius had to guess, he'd say that they built this here, then occupied the building as a cover. With the shoddy manner in which the geomancer covered the entrance up, maybe they were surprised by the police after all. Surely, that man's stone manipulation could have done a better job with enough time.

As the mage contemplated the uses of their destination, he was stopped by his partner's hand placed on his chest. Silently, she pointed ahead to something further down the tunnel. Her night vision was clearly superior to his, for he could not see a thing other than darkness. The mage rectified this with a quick cast of Catseye. His vision blurred for a moment as snuffed out his Candlelight and adjusted to the low visibility. Finally, he saw what his partner was indicating. About 30 feet ahead, the tunnel branched off into two rooms on the left and right. They exchanged glances and split up, Anya taking the right while he stayed on the left.

Sneaking wasn't his biggest strength, but he was trained well on how to move without making noise during his tenure at the Thalmor. After all, even zealots like those lot understood that not all problems can be solved by charging into a room and relying on your "superiority" to shield you. Some were trained in skullduggery for practicality, not that they'd ever admit it. His former masters would point at him as a prime example of the strength of Syrabane's blessing on their race, a prodigy of magic. Not a sneaky coward who'd been trained to slit the unsuspecting throats of his targets.

This training was serving him well, as he moved almost as quietly as Anya, who seemed to be a ghost as she crept up to the other door. They both reached their respective doorways at the same time, signaling each other to move in. Acarius peaked his head around the corner to see what lay inside.

Within the darkness, he could just make out the size of the room. It wasn't a large chamber by any means, maybe 15 feet by 15. He immediately observed several tables built into the floor, housing various medical and scientific equipment. A laboratory then.

As his eyes swept over the equipment, a small movement near the back wall caught his attention. It came from the right side of the room, from what looked to be a small cage. Probably some kind of test animal for whatever the purpose of the lab was. Slowly, he made his way into the room to observe the cage. Just as he crossed the threshold of the doorway, the room lit up completely. The fluorescent lights made him immediately dispel Catseye from the overwhelming brightness.

The room was still empty except for him and the cage. Motion activated lights. How unnecessary for a secret underground lab. He shook his head from the thought as he approached the cage. Its denizen noticed him, seeming to shrink back further in. He couldn't actually see into the cage from his angle, so he knelt down to peer inside.

His heart almost stopped.

Not an animal, a child. A small, malnourished human child. Frail of body, and covered in rags that might have once been a dress, the little brunette met his eyes and attempted to cower further into her prison.

Shock was quickly turning into anger. Acarius tried his best to not let his rage at this transgression show on his face. This poor soul didn't need to see that. With luck, the real target of those emotions would still be here.

Slowly, he reached for the lock on the cage door, watching the girl continue to quake with fear. "It's alright now, little one. I'm going to get you out of here. It's safe now."

Surreptitiously, his spell made the lock fall to the ground, unlocking the girl's freedom. "Come on, the police are just outside. All the bad men are gone. They'll take care of you."

The girl's face never changed, still showing the fear and disbelief of someone who lacked all hope. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time or place for therapy, however necessary it was.

Still, she nodded along to his words, probably thinking it was the only way to avoid some kind of punishment. When she she was completely out of her confinement, he inspected her further. Track marks covered her arms, a sign of sustained injections. Something to do with Quirks, no doubt. Either that, or it was to keep her complacent while they did some other despicable act. There was no bruising on her outside of the arms, likely indicating that this was purely clinical.

Behind him, he heard the soft footsteps of his partner creeping into the room. Turning to greet her, he made sure their new companion was visible to the mercenary. No words needed to be exchanged, from the look on the woman's face.

He brought his attention back to the child, speaking softly once more. "This is Anya, she's a Hero. She's going to bring you to the police. Whatever happened here is over. Do you understand?"

Another solitary nod.

Not wanting to touch her and risk worsening her condition, he allowed her to walk to Anya herself. The dark-haired woman began murmuring softly, while guiding her back the way they came. Before she got out of view, she did turn back to him and mouth two words. Be careful.

The mage nodded back, not needing to be reminded. This was now a solo mission, so there would be no one to help him if things went south.

There would also be no one to stop him when he found the ones responsible for the atrocity he just witnessed.

Nighteye still active, he continued down the long corridor.

It seemed to stretch on for several hundred meters now. Wherever it led, it was no longer connected to the warehouse property. Petty smuggling in the warehouse front, and human trafficking underneath. It would add up to what he's read about the Bratva of the past. It seems obtaining Quirks and clear direction only heightened their depravity. A pity for them when he caught up.

After several minutes of creeping through the narrow space, he finally came up to an open room ahead. It was wide, much more spacious than the two makeshift laboratories that he and Anya observed. The first thing that caught his attention as he crossed the threshold was that this room also held cages. Over a dozen lined the back wall of the chamber, each one large enough to fit an adult with a heteromorphic Quirk type. To his right, he spotted another staircase that likely led to the surface.

There was no doubt that this was the back exit for his quarry.

A small sob caught the elf's ear, immediately putting him on edge. The cages were occupied. Either the person he saw running this way made it outside without his merchandise, or...

Acarius felt a disturbance in the air around him and ducked just in time for a knife to fly past his neck's former location. It was an ambush then. Fine by him. He scanned the room, looking for the source of the projectile, but found himself seeing nothing except the cages.

The purple glow of Detect Life showed him the folly of his eyes. One invisible humanoid was skulking around him, searching for another vantage point to strike from. He let the fool continue his game, waiting for him to leave the vicinity of the caged victims.

Once he did, a barrage of fire left the mage's hands, intending to send the smuggler to a painful death. To his surprise, his target didn't miss a beat, immediately dropping his invisibility and dodging the fire with a quick dive that transitioned into a roll. Agile, and with good reflexes.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with light, making him drop his Nighteye and readjust his vision. The figure he just tried to immolate was still in the spot he landed in, but was now simply staring at Acarius. His face was hidden by a smooth black helmet that covered his entire head. His attire was similar to Anya's but was devoid of any of the warm browns she favored, instead simple blacks and greys covering a large overcoat.

Before the mage could make another move, the man began to laugh. It was a shrill, ugly laugh that was devoid of any real mirth. The laugh of a madman in the midst of performing some cruelty. His laughter continued for a moment before he began to speak instead. "I can't believe it. You're really real, aren't you? I thought you were just some idiot Hero pretending, but you're the real thing."

The laughter continued.

For reasons he couldn't explain, Acarius began to indulge the man instead of resuming his attempts to redecorate the room with ash. "What do you mean by that, lunatic?"

"You mean you can't tell? Oh well, I suppose that I'm not really showing it off as much as it deserves. Maybe you didn't see it. Or, maybe you're too ignorant. Either way..."

He opened his overcoat to show off the shirt underneath. It was a dark grey sweater that was decorated with only one symbol. The black, smudged hand that was recognized all over Tamriel as being he calling card of one group. "The Dark Brotherhood" the elf whispered.

The assassin's laugh grew even louder now. "Yes! Yes! I knew you would see! It wasn't just some robes and ears! By Sithis, I can practically taste the magicka radiating off of you, mage. Never would I have thought to meet another from our home. Oh, the Dreadfather will be so happy with me."

"Why are we here, madman? Talk, and I won't incinerate you where you stand." Acarius hissed out in response.

A cocked head was what he got back. "Why? Isn't it obvious? We need to bring as many of these disgusting creatures to the Void as we can, of course. Well, we're going to need a new Night Mother, and Sanctuary as well. And of course, when I say 'we' I really just mean 'me.'" You're going to be a wonderful offering to Sithis. Even now, in this place, I'm still able to bring the denizens of Tamriel to meet him. I can't describe to you the joy it brings me."

Acarius scowled as the tirade was finished, fingers still twitching, desperate to release his magic and reduce the assassin to cinders. Everything he just heard was typical cult nonsense that the followers of Sithis were known for. Discerning the truth from a madman was an impossible task, let alone figuring out if he knew more about their current circumstances.

Not to mention that capturing true agents of the Dreadlord was immensely difficult. They were known for wanting to embrace their Void themselves long before giving up their Sanctuaries or contracts. He remembered a time several decades ago when the Thalmor had captured an important member of Cyrodil's branch of the shadowy organization. The goal had been to observe and possibly replicate the strange magicks that some of the cultists possessed. It was only's two hours after the man's capture that he was found dead in his sell, still fastened wall in chains and without the ability to use magicka. No apparent cause of death. To this day, after countless investigations, the Thalmor still has no idea how the man had been killed or what stopped his heart.

No matter the feasibility of his capture, this madman was his only link back home. There was simply no choice in the matter. As the mage's eyes caught the cages once more, he proceeded to ask, "What is your purpose in this place? These captives are not contracts to be killed. This is a Quirk smuggling operation."

His head jerked up a bit, perhaps in excitement, as he answered. "Ah, it's not polite to tell the secrets of others. Let's just say, I am doing a favor for a friend in Japan who has been most helpful to me in my quest thus far."

"And what of Tamriel? Have you sought a way back, or have you just been participating in petty crime while one of your Sanctuaries in Skyrim was burned to the ground?"

It was impossible to tell if his words angered the man or not, but another small jerk of the head meant that it did something at least. "No more freebies, mage. This favor is very important to me, and you're interfering with its success. Die for me now."

Shadows twisted around the assassin's form, cloaking him from sight once more. There wasn't any movement to be seen from the Detect Life spell, to his chagrin. He quickly deduced that his foe hadn't moved, he shifted his position using the shadows themselves. Curious.

A flash of steel came from the right side of the room, but his dodge was too slow to stop a small blade from reaching his shoulder, the steel sinking in painfully despite his armor spell. The spell in his left hand fizzled out, the pain in his limb not allowing him to concentrate.

More steel came flying from the right side, then the left, and behind him. Each time he only saw the briefest flash of purple accompanying the thrown knives. The mage frantically dodged, concerned that the blades would penetrate his spell as the first did. Months of doing nothing but reading books began to catch up to him however, as he found that he wasn't quite as spry as he should be.

Multiple cuts appeared on his person, the knives once more completely ignoring Ebonyflesh. None impaled him, but this wasn't a pace he could maintain for very long. His right hand reached for the knife embedded in his shoulder, preceding a desperate attempt to remove the blade. It slid out as easy as it went in. Another oddity.

A sense of dread washed over him as he realized that there was no magicka circulating in the room from the attacks. Not the faintest trace. That this Brotherhood fool was able to teleport without using advanced magicks only meant one thing.

He was somehow Quirked.

A hundred theories flew through his mind, trying to figure out how a man who was certainly not born with the mutations of humans in this world, possessed the most apparent form of their mutations. Before he could put much brainpower into it, the wizard's thoughts were interrupted. A small click echoed somewhere in the darkness, making his hair stand on end.

All of the discarded knives around him suddenly shot in his direction, but missed thanks to a quick roll to the left. They continued past him, all converging in one spot on the right side of the room. Returning to their master.

He sent a one-handed fireball with them.

The magic reached the darkness before the steel, illuminating the room further for a brief second as his target took the blast directly. A ragdoll body flew out from the point of impact, landing further from the cages and tumbling to a painful stop. His blades impacted the wall where he was instead of returning to him.

A moment later, the slightly singed figure made to stand, slightly off-balance from the tumble. Acarius sent a stream of purple lightning from his good hand, not waiting to see a recovery. The spell connected to the assassin, sending bright arcs of magic throughout his body. The effects were immediate: muscles locked up and all thoughts of escape became dust in the wind.

Still, the madman started to resist it, managing to push himself onto one knee and stare defiant at the one inflicting his wounds. Perhaps his suit has some resistance to heat and electricity.

Very well, then.

The purple lightning arcing from his hand doubled in width, sending even more electricity into his downed foe. That frail display of defiance crumbled along with his knee, sending the fool onto his side. Oh, how he writhed and squirmed, completely unable to put up any more defense. Tense groans of agony sung to the mage, pushing him to pump even more magicka into the spell. He willed the Wheel of Life to turn for him, spending a charge from his tattoo.

His shoulder knitted itself back together, good as new. A second stream of lightning joined the first, the energy becoming even more intense. Groans became gasps, before the sweet music of his people reached his ears.

Pained screams, burnt flesh. Crushed hope.

Wonderful. Decadent. Absolute.

An intense desire to see this man die came over him. He wanted the orgasmic sensation of seeing all vestiges of life leave the cultist's body. The sweet, musical tones continued to dominate his mind. He added to the chorus of screams with his own laughter, a shrill cackle of pure joy. Yes, how could he want anything else? There was no place in any world he'd rather be.

Home.

The lightning ceased instantly, along with the pleasurable sensations he was getting from this torture.

What just happened? Disgust welled within his stomach as he observed the smoking husk of a man before him. Acarius Aediath was many things, but he was not a sadist. His work as an actual torturer had never made him feel this way, even when he was a true-believing Thalmor dog. Nor was he a fool. He needed this degenerate alive, no matter how much contempt he held for the Brotherhood

Hands raised, he made to cast a spell to immobilize the smoking mess of an assassin before he recovered, if he could at all. Malviser's Gauntlet.

Before he could gather the neccessary energy, his foe started moving again. Still writhing from the pain and choking on some words and letting out gasps of pain instead. A frail arm, blackened more than the armor he previously wore, reached for his belt and pressed a button. Whatever that button did was irrelevant to Acarius, as he was about to be bound within a field of Alteration magic that no strength or magic would free him from.

That was before a substance began to seep from the ground and envelop the would-be smuggler. Black as tar, and almost the same consistency. It made to submerge the villain completely, for some purpose that the mage was not a fan of. Is this a suicide attempt, or a rescue? Either way, he had to stop it.

No choice left, he released the spell half-baked, sending a wave of orange energy to pull him out of the tar. It fizzled halfway through, not stable enough to make it. The top of the assassin's body was finally covered, before the ooze quickly retracted back into the ground.

He was gone.

Detect Life confirmed it. There was nothing around him except for the children.

Auri-El save him. Children.

Hesitantly, fearfully, he made his way back to the cages. His worst fears were realized when he saw the children in them.

All of them were in rags and varying states of filth. All of them had no doubt experienced trauma that no child should ever face.

All of them were looking at him like he was a monster from a bedtime story.

The less traumatized ones broke down, sobbing and pleading to be spared. Confessions, promises, and unintelligible sobs.

The more traumatized ones simply stared, knowing that they were going to suffer and that they could do nothing about it.

"It's over now. The police are going to be here any second, and they can take you back to your families, or get you help if you don't have anybody." he tried in his most soothing voice.

His assurances fell of deaf ears.

As he stared on at the cages, desperately thinking of some way to salvage this situation, a large amount of footsteps began echoing behind him. The tactical officers finally made it, along with his partner.

He walked off without a word.

In the end, the situation was handled and the operation declared a rousing success. That observant prick Petrov thankfully didn't praise Acarius, and probably wouldn't have even if he didn't notice the mood. He was simply given his license and told to get lost, proverbially.

He threw it away a block from the station.

Russia wasn't where he was supposed to be. His mind was still reeling from the encounter with the Brotherhood assassin. The now-Quirked assassin, who was doing a favor for a Quirk smuggler in Japan.

It was clear what needed to be done.

So, did the virus stop me from writing at any point in the last year?

No.

Will I still blame taking forever on the virus?

Yes.

All jokes aside, I'm actually excited to do some writing again, which I wasn't for a while. I've done a lot of planning while I was gone, and have a pretty good idea on how to structure the story now.

All bitching, whining, complaining, flaming, hating, and ass-kissing is welcome, of course.

Constructive criticism is welcome too.