ANOTHER UPDATE IS HERE.

Kamino is kicking my behind. So much has to come together, and it has to work well. I really want to make it work but it's SO MUCH.

I'm really hoping I can pull it off. Wish me luck my dudes. As for now, enjoy the quickly thickening plot! ONWARDS!

Inko watched from the window as more police cars sped away into the city. Vans filled with men and women, police, and heroes both, all heading towards different locations. Some were unmarked and plain, others in the clear colors of the T.M.P.D. All of them as part was one, huge, singular operation.

Two locations. Two direct strikes. All coordinated to be in unison, with an elite force of heroes being backed by heavily armed police offers. In one night, perhaps even within an hour, the entire Heralds of Eversoris operation would be dismantled and destroyed.

One team was to be led by All Might, backed by Lucifer. The other was to be led by Endeavor, backed by Azrael.

Above her, the clouds gathered. Rain was already starting to spit upon the world, droplets staggered down the windows like tears. The clouds cast a terrible darkness on the world, the herald of a much darker night.

The headlights of the vans started up and began speeding away, flashing against her. They reminded her of the fanning flames of war.

The world knew what was coming.

"… a lot of people are going to die tonight, aren't they?"

She spoke it as a question, but it was really a statement. A cold, hard, fact.

"Yes." Came the reply as a great, dark figure came to stand beside her. She didn't turn her head. The oppressive aura of the King of Hell was something she had grown used to a long time ago, and even after all their time apart she found herself shrugging off the shadow and whispering blasphemy that cloaked the Fallen Archangel.

There was a long, heavy pause.

"Do you regret it?" The demon King asked. "That others will die to save our son?"

Inko moved her hand from the window, where it had been resting, grounding her to the world. Her voice was as solid as the soul of the earth.

"No. I don't."

"At least pray for them. For their families." Came another voice a few feet from her. She turned finally and looked to the softly golden figure of Azrael, the Unforgiven. His eyes burned bright, the whites of his eyes marking them out like lanterns in a storm. "I will, at least."

He was sitting on a table, one foot raised onto it, an arm across his knee. He looked like his heroic namesake. A resting hawk, but one ready to turn and strike in a single heartbeat.

They were the only other Celestial she had ever met, and she'd liked him immediately. He'd taught her son to be himself, to come to unity with the monster within. No, no part of her son was monstrous. It was simply a… more troublesome side of him.

But either way, the result was the same. Her son had started growing into the greatness she had always known was inside him. Tapping into a power that was terrible and dark, but a power that could still be used for good. She had Azrael to thank for that. One day she would do so properly… when Izuku had been returned to her.

"For all the good it'll do." Inko turned to see the person she had given her heart to. The father of her son.

Lucifer stood, unmasked. His great wings, torn and ruined, were stretched behind him. His horns tall and regal, like a deadly crown upon his brow.

He had taken off his glasses, and now the full force of his baleful gaze was unleashed upon any whom he looked to. And now he turned his eyes to Inko.

She could see the fury there. The hatred he held for all of this. She knew he would kill and keep killing until Izuku was safe with them once again.

… and she admired him for it. Because there, in those eyes, was the man whom she both hated and loved in equal measure. A being who dedicated their entire being to their ambitions, their goals, their dreams.

His terrible gaze, the gaze of the void unleashed was on her. And she did not look away. For she saw beyond that void, to the heart of the King of Hell. A heart which she had seen, and given herself too, and in turn he had given to her, for that moment in which Izuku had been conceived.

Their son. Their son.

"For all the good it'll do." She repeated. "But we need all the good we can get."

Lucifer smiled then. Sad and resigned. "I do not deal in good, Inko. I deal in the wickedness of the world."

"You say that, but I don't think I've ever truly believed it." She replied softly. The man towered over her, so she had to crane her neck up to look at him. But even so she kept her gaze steady. "You saved him once before, and that was an act of goodness."

"… you know, you never did tell me how," Azrael said softly from the other side of the room. "You said you spoke to Father."

Inko's heart skipped a beat. Father. When they spoke that name, she knew they meant God, or whatever higher being was out there. The creator of the universe and everything within it.

Lucifer paused, and a pair of lights passed over him like a flame from a hearth. His eyes looked pensive and his body tight.

"… When I spoke to Father, I begged Him to save my only son. I didn't actually expect Him to answer but then… He did." Even in the dark, Inko could see how much the memory affected him. The very shadows around him seemed to recoil even at the indirect mention of God.

"They asked my terms."

"And what did you say?" Inko whispered.

"… anything. Anything He wanted, I would give to Him."

Azrael shifted and Inko glanced to see the Archangel had sat up, their eyes wide. "… so, what did you give Him?"

Lucifer scoffed, though there was little amusement in it. "What do you think they wanted?" His voice lowered. "Me."

The world seemed to slow on its rotation as the implication of the pact hit home. Inko's mind raced to put the pieces together, trying to figure out exactly what it all meant. Thankfully, however, Azrael spoke first.

"You?"

"That's why you sensed weakness in me, sibling. That's why I've… aged, for lack of any better term. I've been drained, and my… power has been taken from me."

"Your power?" Inko asked with a soft frown.

"I believe I am no longer Celestial in the ways that make me Celestial. I've been getting tired, hungry, thirsty. I wouldn't call myself a mortal by any means, but my… being. My strength, my spirit has been stripped from me. That was His price. My power, for Izuku's life." His eyes narrowed. "And now this. I had no illusions that Father has staged all of this."

"But… but why now? Why here?" Azrael jumped up from the table, his eyes frantic.

"Because of Izuku." Lucifer mused with a soft chuckle. "Because it's all going to change. Just as I once changed the world when I turned on Father, my son will change the world in his own way."

Azrael came to his sibling's shoulder and lay a strong hand upon it. "Lucifer, sibling, don't do this. Please." There was real emotion in his voice, heavy and tight and pulling on his every word. "I'll fight Satani. I can beat him. I'll-"

"Will you deny me the honor of rescuing my own child?" Lucifer turned on Azrael, and Inko had to duck as one of his great wings passed over her. "Will you take from me the glory of this victory?"

"There is no victory for you here!" Azrael snapped back. "Don't you get it? If you fight here, in the state you're in, they'll kill you!"

"I have no doubt about it." Lucifer pushed off Azrael's hand. "But I don't think I'll die. At least, not truly. I think this is the next part of Father's deal."

"The next part?" Inko asked softly, feeling so small in a room with two mighty beings of biblical legend.

"I believe Father wants me to go home."

"… Home? To heaven?" Azrael spoke the words as a question, but the answer soon dawned on him. His glowing eyes grew wide. "… But… I… who will-"

"Azrael. Don't you see? Our time is ending. The era of the Archangels and Fallen is ending. The era of our children is on the horizon like the rising sun. Just as humanity rises with the gifts of the divine touch, we are… descending, one might say, to be closer to them."

Inko wasn't surprised to see not a hint of fear there. She doubted he could even experience fear like any normal mortal. If anything, he seemed… almost relieved, as if a great weight was being lifted from his mighty shoulders.

A King, long tired of ruling was finally seeing his heir coming into their own. Finally, he could step down from his mighty throne in the knowledge that it would be held safe by the coming generation.

"Yeah, that's super and all, but you're the only one with a child!" Azrael snapped suddenly. "Because you're too fucking selfish to tell the rest of us how it's done!"

Lucifer paused for a second, the momentary joy fading from his eyes before he finally nodded. He turned to Inko and smiled at her. "Inko. My would-be mortal Queen. Soon I must depart for war. I will not return. I will tell you my private goodbyes, but first, let me talk to my sibling alone."

Inko's temper flared, despite the heaviness of the air. "Why?"

Lucifer's eyes sparkled. "Because it's about time I repaid the debt I owe to them, for almost pulling them down to Hell with my selfishness."

Azrael seemed to freeze beside the mortal woman.

Lucifer, however only winked, amusement once again sparkling in his blasphemous eyes. "I'm going to tell him about the birds and the bees of making half-celestial children."

The train rattled around them. The five teenagers had gathered into one empty carriage which bumped and swayed as it headed deep into the inner city.

The sun had just fallen, and yet one might have not even noticed. The clouds that had gathered had long since cast a dark pall on the world, blotting out the last, hopeful rays of a setting sun. A bitter wind was blowing against the windows, and with it came the threat of biting rain.

The world seemed to know something was coming. Some great event was preparing to write itself into the history books.

The teenagers could feel it too.

At first, they had chatted about this and that, mostly discussing plans on how to infiltrate and then retreat. If Izuku was awake, it would be easier, though they couldn't count on that alone. They had to make sure that, above all, they did not get into any encounters with any members of the Heralds. They were all too strong and too dangerous, and they were in no shape to fight.

Even Dark Shadow had vowed to be on their best behavior. When asked how they could even trust them, the demon had simply replied, "if I disobey, the world ends. That's not a very positive outcome for me."

Which, really, was fair enough.

And yet once they had gotten onto the train, the talk had died down.

Hitoshi gripped his backpack nervously. His wounds still ached terribly, despite all that the hospital had done to help heal him. His arms had been torn up the worst and he knew he'd have scars there that would last him the rest of his life.

No matter. He figured that he'd get a couple of bumps and bruises in his chosen line of work.

He looked across at the others.

Katsuki and Ibara sat next to one another. There was a polite distance between them, and yet, through the subtle way Katsuki seemed to lean towards her, and the way Ibara would occasionally glance at the young man, Hitoshi could tell they would look after one another before the others.

That was fine by him. It seemed Ibara had a way of keeping Katsuki under control, and Katsuki would do anything to help the templar.

He could rely on their anger, and maybe their love, to see good win out over evil.

His eyes turned to Fumikage, who was sitting with his hands clasped before him and his eyes down, almost in prayer. Hitoshi wondered what he was thinking. Was he doing what all of them were no doubt doing? Playing the events of the forest camp over in their minds, trying to figure out where they went wrong, what they could have done better.

Maybe. Maybe not. Fumikage was a hard book to read, even for Hitoshi's skills.

Then his eyes moved to Shoto.

Shoto sat, his head resting on a fist as he looked out of the window, watching the cities pass them by. The passing pattern of streetlights and shadow played across his features, one moment dancing over one side of his face, making his brown eye shine, then suddenly plunging into shadow, marking the deep wine-stain of his birthmark and making his other eye flash ice blue.

Every now and then he would cough lightly as if trying to clear his throat. As much as he tried to disguise it, it sounded rough and cutting.

Hitoshi felt his heart take an extra beat, as it always did when he found himself admiring the teenager. Shoto had saved him twice now and yet Hitoshi had done so little to return the favors owed. His own hand clenched, grabbing a fistful of his backpack. He needed to repay him, he needed to prove he wasn't some useless, helpless hanger-on who couldn't do anything to save anyone.

And maybe then he'd finally get Shoto's attention as more than just a friend. A blush threatened his cheeks, but he pushed it aside and refocused his thoughts on the task at hand.

"… I just thought of something." He asked as the train rattled and shook again. The others looked to him. "We're going to be trying to sneak into their church, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, most of their gang has seen us by now." Hitoshi frowned in thought. "And if we're going to sneak closer, we'll need disguises."

There was a pause.

"Disguises?"

"Yeah, you know, wigs and clothes and stuff. Disguises."

"Okay, first of all, these are supernatural creatures. I'm pretty sure they can fucking detect someone wearing a pair of glasses and a fake mustache." Katsuki snapped. "Second of all-"

"Actually, he's not wrong." Fumikage cut in. "They're watching out for otherworldly threats, so they probably don't think a small band of humans would attempt to infiltrate. Even so, I doubt their security is so lax as to not have some eyes on the outside of their dark temple. If they see it's us, they will no doubt respond in kind."

"So… you're suggesting, what?"

"Erm, that we at least attempt to look different?" Hitoshi raised an eyebrow at Katsuki. "Don't you wanna play dress up?"

The boy instantly started fuming, though was stopped from leaping to his feet by Ibara's gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I agree to this plan." She announced in her usual, calm, and collected manner. "However, I… don't have much money on me."

"I admit I am also strapped for monetary funds," Fumikage added with shrug. "I did not believe I would need much yen in the forest."

"That's fine." Shoto dug his hand into his pocket and drew out his wallet. Then, he opened it and took out a rather shiny-looking credit card with the name 'Enji Todoroki' written on the front. Hitoshi was sure there was a smile playing on Shoto's lips as he said, "my father has us covered."

Less than an hour later the gang had departed the train and made their way through the bustling district of Kamino. The main street was a bright, neon-headache of shops, clubs, and restaurants. A thousand smells and a thousand noises came from every direction all at once. Women with dresses that went to their thighs clung to the arms of men in suits with untucked shirts and all stumbled along the sidewalks laughing and joking and spilling beer from paper cups.

It was bustling and mad, and quietly, Hitoshi loved it.

He had always been a night owl, but the thought of being in such a crazy place this late was something he'd never realized until now. He was also a natural-born city boy, and he felt as though even if he'd never been here, he knew every side ally and cobblestone.

Shoto, however, looked rather out of his element, as did Fumikage. Katsuki looked unbothered as if it were all the same-old-same-old to him.

Ibara on the other hand…

She had a strange flush on her cheeks as if she were doing something very wrong but was deeply enjoying it anyway.

And Hitoshi, of course, couldn't help but open his big mouth. "What's the matter, church mouse, never been to the seedy side of town before?"

She shot him a harsh glare, but the flush didn't fade. "I do not choose to associate with such… depravity."

"And yet here you are." Hitoshi grinned. "You should enjoy it while you can."

"It is rather… overwhelming," Fumikage mumbled as he passed a laughing couple. "The lights and noise of a city at night, exposing the dark sins of the human spirit."

"Or maybe we can just ignore them and get on with our fuckin' job." Katsuki snapped as his eyes moved across the street. "Look. A Donki-Oote shop. We can get some disguises there."

Shoto paused as he looked to the shop. It was all giant lettering, ugly, garish colors, and flashing 'On Sale Now!' signs. "I've… never been in a shop like that before."

"The Lord surely frowns upon such establishments, and yet." Ibara clasped her hands together as if in prayer, though a grin was threatening to break out on her lips. "For His will to be done, I will journey inside and find a disguise most fitting."

Hitoshi nudged Katsuki and grinned. "I think she just wants to go shopping at the bargain place."

Katsuki groaned and stormed forward. "Fine, fine. Let's just get this over with."

Twenty minutes later the gang emerged with a rather drastic change.

Hitoshi had donned a pair of aviators and a fake brett beard. He'd also gotten himself a white shirt with a maroon suit and pants combo, as well as some nice new black shoes and a metal chain necklace.

Shoto had a pair of dark pants, boots, a black and white striped shirt, and a dark black and white wig to hide his birthmark. He also had a chain on his side, something Fumikage had lent him, and a face mask on, which he occasionally coughed into.

Fumikage had gone with the very opposite of his usual look. A huge, oversized red t-shirt with 'You Can Get It!' written on the front, baggy jeans, sneakers, and a large, wide-rimmed red hat to hide most of his avian features. He also had an array of cheap gold chains, rings and, even a crappy watch.

Katsuki had gone with an all dark blue and white stripe Adidas tracksuit look, with a grey t-shirt under it, a large gold chain necklace, and a matching baseball cap to hide his hair.

Though if he seemed uncomfortable, it was only because he was trying to avoid looking at Ibara.

Ibara seemed to have dived head-first into the whole 'don't be recognized' thing. She now sported a white shirt under a long black jacket with an ornate, Sukeban-style dragon on the back. She also wore a pair of rather form-fitting leather pants and a pair of heavy-looking boots. Her hair had been a problem, up until she donned a backward baseball cap, which Hitoshi had noticed matched Katsuki's, and had wrapped her hair in a tight braid while turning the collar of her jacket up.

Up close it wouldn't pass, but to the casual observer it worked remarkably well to hide the vines.

"I feel like an idiot," Fumikage grumbled as they made their way down the street.

"Better a breathing idiot than a dead idiot," Hitoshi mused as he looked at the GPS on his phone. "Still, let me know when your album drops."

Fumikage gave him a harsh glare.

"You should get into character," Ibara said as she shot a passer-by a glare. "We're not UA students. We're a gang of street ruffians here to cause trouble."

"No one calls themselves a street ruffian," Katsuki grumbled to the woman beside him.

"I call myself a street ruffian," Hitoshi said with a grin.

"That's because you're a fuckin' asshat."

"Hitoshi 'Street Ruffian' Shinsou, that's what they call me."

"Who calls you that?" Shoto asked with his usual blank expression.

"… they do."

"Who?"

"Look it's-"

"It's UA!"

The cry rang out from the street, causing the gang to freeze up in shock. Hitoshi's mind reeled. Had they been found out that easily? No, surely not, surely-

"Look!" They all turned, scanning around them for the first signs of trouble. Yet Hitoshi soon noticed it wasn't them that people were pointing at. No, it was the huge TV screen that had been built onto the side of one of the many multi-story shops.

And Hitoshi felt ice form in the pit of his stomach as he saw who was front and center on the screen.

The first was the Class One-B teacher, Sekijiro Kan, then there was Shouta Aizawa, then there was Principal Nedzu. They all wore similar black suits and ties, though both the teachers couldn't hide their battle wounds. Aizawa's arm was in a cast on a sling, and Kan was wearing an eyepatch with half his head bandaged over.

All of them looked as serious as the grave.

"We come to you now, live, from the press conference held by UA High." The announcer's voice echoed around the street, sounding clear even over the busy nightlife.

"Fuck me." Katsuki breathed as the crowd bunched in around them. The five hustled closer, unwilling to be separated, though no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

"Aizawa's on TV?" Shoto mused from Hitoshi's shoulder. "He despises public attention."

"Things are grave indeed," Fumikage agreed from just behind him. "Even our own teachers are being held to account."

"We're here to apologize for what has happened," Kan announced, his gruff voice stern yet honest. "We all take full responsibility for our actions, and the failure to protect the kidnapped child."

"They did nothing wrong," Hitoshi turned to see Ibara glaring up at the screen. "They all fought as best they could. They have nothing to apologize for."

Hitoshi looked back, silently agreeing.

"What steps are you taking to securing the safety of the other children under your care?" One reporter loudly asked.

"We're doubling our security patrols around the school and reexamining existing security measures," Nedzu announced. "We're also going to invest into better equipment for the school as a whole."

"You allowed the Heralds to attack an isolated location," another reporter announced. She was a woman with striking cheetah-like features. "Do you believe that your system has been compromised? How can we trust you to care for these children if you can't protect them in such a secretive location?"

"As I said, we're doubling and reexamining our security measures. If there is a breach, we will find it."

Apparently satisfied, she sat back down.

Another reporter went to stand up, an older man with brown hair, but suddenly someone stood up before him. This reporter was dressed in an all-black suit though he had no shirt on, revealing his fit, and more scandalously, tattooed body underneath. He was also bald with a spider tattoo on his head and he wore a strange red and green colored pair of shades.

He was also smoking, which immediately seemed to put several people around him off.

Nedzu frowned at this and began to say, "You can't smoke in-"

"So lemmie get this straight," The reporter announced swiftly with a thick, yet still understandably American, accent. "You take on these kids to train them into heroes, and yet you can't even protect them yourselves? I heard that you," and his eyes locked to Aizawa, "gave them permission to use their quirks at the camp, is that correct?"

"I assure you that if I hadn't allowed them to use their quirks, things would have gone much, much worse."

"Several students were hit by a poisonous gas, emitted by one of the villains," Nedzu added. "It was only due to the efforts of the students fighting back that many other lives were saved. As were the efforts of several other students. If we had forced them to retreat, many more might have been hurt or even killed."

"Two students were targeted by a madman with a pair of axes who killed two pro heroes." Aizawa's eyes hardened as he glared at the reporter. "If they hadn't used their quirks and their quick thinking, I have no doubt those two students would be dead."

Hitoshi gulped. He remembered the looks upon the faces of Tsuyu and Ochaco. They'd looked shell-shocked before they had been whisked away to the hospital.

He wished he could step through the screen and shout at the reporter, to force him to shut his mouth.

But even as others went to stand, to take their turns, the reporter just kept going. He practically kicked people out the way as he made his way into the center row, his cigarette smoke trailing behind him.

"Don't give me that bullshit." There was a gasp from the crowd. "They shouldn't have been there in the first place." He pointed an accusing finger at the teachers. "You took a bunch of kids into the mountains to do what? Make them into heroes? Have you ever thought that maybe that's part of the problem? The kid who was kidnapped, Izuku Midoriya." Hitoshi noticed Aizawa's eye twitch. "We all saw the videos of the sports festival. His quirk is overwhelmingly destructive, and I've heard whispers that he was at Hosu too, getting into some hidden fight somewhere that was hushed up. But more importantly." His toothy snarl grew wider. "I found that the kid has something hidden in their past. A sealed police record, and a history of mental illness."

There was a sudden cold chill that ran through the gathered crowd. Murmurs began sprouting up as people hissed and whispered about this new information. A sealed police record? Mental illness? What kind of heroes were UA training?

"That sounds weird, why would they train a kid like that?"

"The demon kid from the sports festival? That seems sus that he was the one taken."

"Do you think he had something to do with the attack?"

"Don't take two and two to put four together here." The reporter snapped, drawing Hitoshi's furious attention back to the TV screen. "It's entirely possible this child, Izuku Midoriya, might have had something to do with this attack. Maybe even participated in it. What do you say to that?"

The teachers looked stunned. And yet Hitoshi could also see the rage taking over Aizawa. He could see how this reporter had gone after him, prodding him, accusing his student of being… a villain.

Hitoshi's own rage spiked at the thought. Izuku was no villain, he was a victim, and he could well be the ultimate victim if this night went badly.

Aizawa was suddenly on his feet. His eyes burned with fury as he looked to the aggressive reporter, who seemed utterly unphased by his actions.

And then he did something that shocked Hitoshi.

He bowed.

Despite the pain it clearly should have caused him, the teacher took a low, deep bow of humility and apology, his black hair, which had been tied back, threatening to spill and fall about his face. "I take complete, and full responsibility for what happened at the camp. However." He straightened up. "You are wrong about Izuku Midoriya. I admit, when he came to us, he was a challenge, and the events of the Sports Festival showed that he had little control over his power. But our job is to correct those errors, to train, to educate, and to make sure the future is safe because of the heroes we train today. Izuku has come on in leaps and bounds since the Festival, and he's a hardworking, dedicated student with a bright future ahead of him. He could very well become one of the top future heroes of our time. I guarantee you, that not only would he never have anything to do with the Heralds, he would spend every ounce of his energy fighting to stop them from hurting anyone. And if I am wrong, then I will resign my post as a teacher and a pro-hero."

Hitoshi felt pride blossom in his chest. His teacher hadn't been goaded into some snap-back response, he'd replied like a pro. He'd shown the world that UA could not be so easily broken.

And he knew, even now, that heroes were gathering to strike back at the Heralds. All of this had to be a show, a message to Satani and their deluded followers.

The world of mortals was not ready to bend the knee.

He looked to the others, and he could see they felt the same. Even the two members of class one-B seemed impressed with Aizawa's performance.

"Right now, we are gathering intelligence and working closely with the police on this matter. We have leads that we are following up and doing all we can to find our student," Nedzu chimed in suddenly. "So please, we beg you for your patience and cooperation in this matter. We can find and rescue Izuku Midoriya. I dare say we will move heaven and earth to bring him home safe."

Heaven and earth, huh? Hitoshi almost smirked at that. Nedzu probably had no idea just how right he was, though maybe he was missing the obvious third member. Hell. Hell itself would rise up to save its Prince, or a least Lucifer would.

A sudden thought hit him. Did… did Nedzu know more than he was letting on? No, surely not. Why would the UA Principal know anything about Izuku?

Still, the thought wouldn't leave him. The sudden icy blast of wind and the slow scattering of the crowd didn't help. The clouds continued to gather, and he swore he could hear thunder coming from somewhere far away.

He looked around and saw that despite the bravery displayed by the teacher, it hadn't affected the crowd. If anything, they seemed more on edge than before. Talk flittered through them, whisperings of how the heroes were taking too long, not doing enough, or even the potential of a coverup.

Despite Aizawa's words, they simply weren't convinced.

Something deep inside Hitoshi twisted, and he didn't like it.

"Come on." He felt someone grab his arm and he turned suddenly, shocked out of his worry. His eyes met Ibara's, which were as cold as stained glass in an ancient church. "We need to go."

Despite the fear that was running, herd-like through the crowd, Hitoshi nodded and forced his limbs to begin moving once again.

The clock was ticking, and Armageddon was only a few hours away.

"Adorable."

Satani's top fingers linked together, while their other two pairs of hands stretched out before him. "It's always amusing when the animals try and act braver than they are." They laughed, a sound like the breaking of diamonds, before turning back to the room.

The chapel had been completely cleared out. Only the sconces, still flickering with the blue flame, remained on the walls. Well, that and the television that Kurogiri had brought before them. Beside Satani was the laptop with 'no video' bouncing across it.

And yet one could somehow feel the tension from the other side. There was tension everywhere in the hall. Their number had been cut dramatically following the fight in the forest, and now only Himiko, Magne, Compress, Legion, and Dabi remained of the squad who had been sent out.

Tomura was, of course, still there, though he was sitting, crossed legged, within the center of a vast circle of ruins and sigils, each far more complex than the last.

There had already been some sacrifices made, and the bodies lay dead and bloody within their own minor circles set within the vast ritual area.

And Himiko looked on from the sidelines.

And she was starving.

Her body ached more than ever, her limbs felt torturously weak, and even now, as she dully watched, she swallowed back a ball of spit that tasted too much of her own, coppery blood. She had managed to escape to the bathroom only an hour ago. She had splashed water on her face and looked at her own reflection.

Lifeless, bruised eyes looked back at her. Her skin had become a sickly pallid color and it seemed to her even her own hair had become dull and lifeless on her head. She looked like a walking corpse, not the blushing, grinning, happy girl she'd been only a few days ago.

But she had balled up her strength and pressed on. She was so close. So close to achieving her dream. Tomura may be in the circle, but she would be the one to rise. She had reasoned this had to all be some kind of test that her Father was giving her.

It had to be. They loved her, after all, and she knew in her heart that she was the right choice for this ritual. She deserved this more than Tomura ever had or ever would. She had seen what could be after she had met her Father, and they had given her a taste of the unlimited freedom and love she could receive if she could only push her weak, mortal body just a little more.

And yet her would-be cousin's words wouldn't leave her head.

'We're meant for more. We're meant to be free.'

Dammit. Why was she suddenly doubting everything now? Why was it that Nemesis's words were getting to her? What had changed since before the attack at the forest?

Nothing. Nothing had changed. That's what she told herself as she stood just to the side of her Father.

Her Father.

She looked at him from under her robes. She was still filled with the awe and admiration that she'd held since the second she had laid eyes upon the inhuman being.

… and yet.

Somewhere deep inside her heart, somewhere where she thought she had extinguished the last of her humanity in the last blaze of Fallen blood she had drunk and expanded in the fight against her would-be cousin, something… sparked.

And ember hiding under cold ash.

She looked down, away from her Father, letting the hood fall across her gaze. Her hands gripped tightly together under her robes. Every joint in her body was aching with the effort of standing, and yet she refused to fall to her knees.

She was a princess. A princess of a realm made of nothing but blood and love. She did not collapse just because she felt a bit ill.

"But Father holds our cure from us."

The thought came unbidden to her mind and again, she looked back to the floor and her teeth pressed against one another. Her jaw ached. Her gums ached. All she wanted was just a bit of blood, just a tiny bit to get over this sickness.

She found herself closing her eyes slowly, softly, and just across from her, where her Father talked to Sensei through the screen… she could hear their heart beating.

She bit her own lip and her fingers curled against her skin as she thought about sinking her own fangs into that beating, unholy organ.

"Himiko!"

She started as if she had been drifting off. She looked up only to see her Father staring at her from a few paces away. Quickly she hurried forward, ashamed of her lack of focus and of her little heretical daydream.

Fear gripped her insides as she knew that Father must be able to see right through her and-

"Go get Prince Nemesis. We're to begin soon." And Father turned away.

She almost froze. There was no… repercussion? No reaction?

"He doesn't even look into our heart." The little ember-voice whispered within her again. "He doesn't even care."

"Yes, Father." She nodded, turned, and began striding away. She pushed the thoughts down. They sounded like her old, human self. She wasn't human anymore, even if she knew she wasn't truly inhuman either. She was caught somewhere in between, a wraith that had no place in either world.

She should feel elated. Glad that she was escaping the horrible, grasping fingers of a world that had done all it could to hold her back and imprison her. But instead, she felt… adrift. Perhaps not quite lost, but as though she was a single leaf upon a great ocean, slowly getting further and further from the shore she had thought was just in sight.

Himiko moved through the corridors, heading down, and listening as the busywork above fell away to silence. Once she was sure she was alone, she fell against the cold wall of the chancel corridor and took a shuddering breath.

It was getting harder to breathe. Each intake made the muscles of her lungs burn, and each breath out felt as though it was just a tiny bit shorter every time. She pressed her forehead to the cold cobblestone.

"Hey, you okay?"

She started, turning suddenly to see Dabi standing by an open door. His black cloak and heavy, stitched-together features made him seem zombie-like in the cold gloom. Still, there was always an air of heat to Dabi, as if his own, accursed flame was forever cooking him from the inside.

"I'm fine." She swallowed thickly and moved to walk past him.

But Dabi suddenly blocked her path.

Her gut twisted in a fear she suppressed before she said, "get out of my way."

"Yeah, no. We need to talk."

"We don't have anything to talk about," Himiko replied stiffly. "And Father said it's time to-"

"Lady Satani can wait a few moments." Himiko turned her head to see that Compress had filled the other end of the corridor. His strange mask swirled in bizarre, esoteric patterns. "We need to talk, little Princess."

Himiko didn't know how to react. Her human instinct told her to get out a knife and start stabbing until the danger was gone. However, they didn't seem to be willing to restrain her. They weren't grabbing her and dragging her into some room against her will.

That was not a vibe she got from either of them.

So… what was this about?

A small voice in her head noted, quietly, that Compress had said Lady Satani. Not Father Satani. A tiny heresy, but notable nonetheless, and that alone was enough to tug her curiosity.

"… ten minutes," she replied swiftly. "Ten minutes, but after that, I'm getting Nemesis."

"That's all we need," Dabi replied before he turned and nodded to a door further up the corridor. "Come on. We can talk in there."

Reluctantly, Himiko followed him, with Compress following behind, almost like an escort. She was surprised to find that, in the small storage room with all the tables and chairs shoved against the walls, was a circle on the floor.

One that seemed to have been drawn rather quickly. One with odd lettering surrounding it.

Dabi stepped within it and looked to Himiko. Not wanting to show any fear, she followed after him. Compress came behind her, stepping within the circle also, then turning, crouching, and finishing a single line on the circle with a piece of chalk from one of his pockets.

The circle suddenly glowed a dull white and the odd lettering began to move in a strangle clock-like ticking motion.

"The corona silentium is complete. We have ten minutes and counting." Compress replied, standing back up again.

"Corona silentium?"

"A literal circle of silence. No sound can escape it." Compress replied with a hidden smile in his voice. "Perfect for private discussions."

She almost asked who they were hiding the discussion from, but she supposed there was only one person in the church who they needed to take such precautions against.

"… so, what is it you don't want Father to hear?"

Dabi smirked and folded his arms. "You haven't guessed?"

"It's about what happened in the forest. Or to be more accurate, about how Lady Satani reacted to the results of that endeavor."

Himiko stayed silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing and glancing swiftly between the demon and the mortal. "… what about it?"

"You were wronged."

She blinked. This wasn't something she'd been expecting. No one ever took her side, on anything. Not even her own parents had ever backed her when it came to her small achievements.

It was part of why she'd run from them. Their complete and total oppression of her freedom, of her personality, of everything she was had almost broken her spirit… before her escape had made it stronger than ever.

Her escape into the arms of Father.

"… what are you talking about?" She asked at last. "I did what told. I got the Prince. Father said that was enough."

"But it's not," Compress replied suddenly, a note of annoyance in his voice. "That is not how things are supposed to go. Not in our world. Not in the world of rituals, honors, and respect that you are so desperate to be a part of. You, a mere mortal, fought a half-celestial and won. You won through trickery, yes, and perhaps your fight was somewhat incomplete, but you at the very least held your ground and led the boy into a trap. By any stretch, one could clearly see you succeeded."

"And what did you get out of it?" Dabi cut in. "Fuck all. Father didn't even bother giving you any more of his blood."

"The realm of Hell is treacherous and terrible, but there are rules that even we follow, if not at the very least respect. When one accomplishes a great deed, one gains the admiration of their peers and the accolades of their masters. You were given neither."

"He calls you his High Priestess, but have you actually been given anything? He did something to you, he changed you, and yet he still coddles Tomura even though that asshole hasn't done anything since he let the demons loose on Hosu."

"Something about this. All of this. It feels wrong. Off." Compress nodded slowly at Dabi. "Something isn't counting up."

"Look, I dunno what you think, but I know Father has our best interests at heart. I know it." Himiko spoke the words but something about them rang hollow. They sounded… forced, even though she was sure she was speaking them from the heart.

Right?

Dabi looked unimpressed. "Look, I know you plan to take Tomura's place. We both do."

Himiko's skin paled suddenly, and she felt very ill.

"I have good hearing for a demon of my age, you know." Compress held a hand to the side of his head. "I heard what you said, in the forest. You plan to rise, to become like the captured Prince."

"Well- I-"

"We've decided to support you."

Himiko's eyes widened as she looked to Compress, then to Dabi. "… you will? How?"

"As a demon, I am bound by my contract to Lady Satani. But my contract is specific. It is to assist Tomura Shigaraki in whatever they need and to keep them from danger. I have no doubt that King Lucifer is on their way here, right now, to wreak bloody vengeance upon their sibling. In that moment, I believe that Tomura's life will surely be in great danger. So, it's in my best interest to, well, save him." Compress rolled a hand towards Himiko. "And, and please do not be offended my dear, but I am under no obligation to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

Himiko hesitated, then nodded slowly and looked to Dabi. "And what about you?"

Her heart was hammering in her chest at all of this, as heretical as it was. She shouldn't be talking like this. She should be rushing back to her Father to report this treachery. She should be doing what her Father wanted and getting the Prince and…

And yet she wasn't.

And the fire in her chest was burning ever brighter.

"I'm something of a… special case," Dabi smirked then patted his chest, right above his heart. "I've got a problem that's killing me, slowly. My soul is damaged. But that damage stops Satani's… will or power or whatever it is they do to people from getting to me that much. One on one, I can't disobey them, but otherwise, I can overcome their influence. So, when the time comes, I can help cover for you."

"What about Magne? And Jin?"

"Magne's been brainwashed. Until Satani is gone, there's no way they're snapping out of their control."

"And Legion will follow whoever promises them blood. That is their purpose."

Himiko could feel herself trembling. She had allies. For the first time in her life, she had people who believed in her. She had people willing to help her accomplish her goal.

But…

"But why? Why are you doing this for me? Tomura is… I mean, Father says Tomura is the chosen one. So-"

"Lady Satani is wrong."

Himiko felt two things at those words. The first was an unbidden, knee-jerk denial that Father could be wrong about anything. They were perfect! The perfect Fallen! Nothing they did could ever be wrong! Her fists even curled without her willing it, her body almost moving to strike Compress.

But it was halted by the other emotion. Joy. A secret, shameful, yet welcome joy that finally someone was agreeing with her newfound awakening that her Father was not perfect. That they were not all-knowing or all-powerful.

That they thought the same as her, that Tomura was not the Ender of Days.

Compress's head tilted for a moment and the strange swirling took on an oddly reminiscent shape and pattern. "I… I have been alive for a long, long time. I was there the last time that the Celestial order was altered. I felt a change in the air then, and I chose my path. I don't regret it, even if it has led me to Hell and back. I feel the same change now. Something is going to happen and every demon in hell, and no doubt every angel in heaven, knows it's coming."

They looked back to Himiko, and while he had no eyes, she could feel the stare of something ancient and powerful looking into her very soul.

"There is something about Tomura. Fate swirls about him as prominent as a storm, and yet… I do not believe it is because he is destined to end the world. Some other purpose belongs to him, but it is not what Lady Satani believes., but I do not believe that Tomura is the end of it as I do not believe the final days are upon us. In fact, I believe the Prince is the start of something new, a dawning of a new age, and I believe fate pushes you towards him, rather than Tomura."

Himiko didn't know what to say. The words were stolen from her lips, her heart overwhelmed with emotions.

The circle suddenly glowed again, and then faded to nothing on the cold stone floor.

"Looks like break time's over," Dabi announced with a yawn. "Just think about what we said, okay?"

He began moving past her, as did Compress, though before he left the room, he paused, looking to her with tired eyes. "You know I was once told I was important too by someone I… someone I loved, very much. But then I was torn open for parts when it turned out I wasn't good enough." He narrowed his gaze, anger and hate flickering like flames behind the blue of his eyes. "Don't make my mistake. Freedom isn't something that can be handed to you, you have to take it for yourself."

And with that, he left Himiko alone in the cold, dark storage room.

Alone with her thoughts. Her fears and dreams and hopes and her heart, which was now caught in a conflict so terrible that it felt as though her chest would tear in two.

And with that war within her, she turned and left the room, knowing at the very least she would do one thing tonight.

She would become free.

Himiko has her hope back! And Dabi and Compress are in her corner. This was a slightly late addition to the chapter but I think it'll work out well for the future chapters, also it was a chance to expand on Dabi a little (since so little of him was seen in the Forest Camp) and a little more was given about the mysterious Compress.

Turns out he's old. REALLY freakin' old.

Also, there were some fun cameos I slipped into the chapter. I 100% did one of them very dirty and I'm sure people who spot it will say it's OOC but WHATEVER IT WAS MY ONLY SHOT OKAY?

Now, as for the next chapter. We have Izuku being mopy, Himiko making her mind up and the ritual kicking into gear... oh, and maybe big Daddy Luce is gonna drop by and say hi. Kamino kicks into full gear, and it's not gonna be pretty.

But for now, peace and love everyone, keep safe, wear your mask and wash your hands. PIPES OUT.