Dreaming of Stars

by Gushy48

Sanji Inochi, a selfless man who is unable to use his Quirk—Dreams, being considered Quirkless. Through luck and seemingly-impossible odds, he finds his way to U.A. High School in Class 1-B. With what Life brings to 1-B, the society that they live in—the Hero Society—will forever be altered. (x-posted on AO3)

58. Foothold

Vanguard Action Squad Invasion - 7:20PM

Vanguard Action Squad: Dabi, Himiko Toga, Twice, Spinner, Mr. Compress, Magne, Muscular, Mustard, Moonfish, Incognito, Chainsaw Nomu, ? Clones

Pro Heroes: Eraserhead, Vlad King, Mandalay, Tiger, Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Edgeshot

Class 1-A: Yuga Aoyama, Mina Ashido, Tsuyu Asui, Tenya Iida, Ochako Uraraka, Mashirao Ojiro, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Koji Koda, Rikido Sato, Mezo Shoji, Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Fumikage Tokoyami, Shoto Todoroki, Toru Hagakure, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Minoru Mineta, Momo Yaoyorozu

Class 1-B: Yosetsu Awase, Sen Kaibara, Togaru Kamakiri, Shihai Kuroiro, Itsuka Kendo, Yui Kodai, Kinoko Komori, Ibara Shiozaki, Jurota Shishida, Nirengeki Shoda, Pony Tsunotori, Kosei Tsuburaba, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Setsuna Tokage, Manga Fukidashi, Juzo Honenuki, Kojiro Bondo, Neito Monoma, Reiko Yanagi, Hiryu Rin

Civilians: Kei Shirabe, Chie Shirabe, Kota Izumi

Genkei Mushas: 100 Operative, 200 Destroyed

Location Unknown: Edgeshot, Itsuka Kendo, Kei Shirabe, Chie Shirabe, ?

South of the Mobile Research Center: Incognito, Sanji Inochi

Mobile Research Center: Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Moonfish, ?

Center of the Gas: Mustard

Other Locations: ?

Casualties: Sanji Inochi [A/N: Here, casualties are referred to any deaths or heavily injured. For this arc, anyone unconscious will be added to the list. Assume everyone else is either alive or unknown.]

Status Unknown: Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Itsuka Kendo, Edgeshot, Kei Shirabe

---

Chie Shirabe - 7:20PM

"What the heck, what the heck?!"

Chie doesn't know what the heck is going on! Times like these, she really wants Mama to tell her what to do! Hawks, Auntie Nagant, anyone who's smart and witty enough! Maybe that Shinobi too! But there's no one here! Stuck in this room, tryna find her way through this random icky gas and trees—why do they all look the same?!—this is a complete and total catastrophe! It's like an apocalypse is going on!

Ooooh, Sage doesn't know where she's going! Stupid robot, why did the R&D team make such awkward controls?! It's like driving a car, but the driver isn't drunk, the car is! That's how it feels! They did a shoddy job where they redefined the meaning of "drinking and driving"! Heck, they prolly were drinking and thinking too, thinking of ways to make Sage's life more of a mess than it already is!

Where the heck is she going?! On the left monitor, she can't track her location anymore! She had a GPS tracker embedded in the drunk rover, but it musta been damaged when one of the Pussycats rescued her. Ugh, why did they hafta save her?! Sage is not there in person! She's over in Tokyo! Dangit, it's no good complaining! Gotta be thankful that they saved me, even when it sounds stupid, 'cuz they're the good kind of Heroes—not the awful, comic book evil Heroes like Shinobi!

Sage needs to repay 'em! By escaping! She prolly won't encounter any baddies while she's driving, so let's check the other monitors for information!

Like Sage said, the GPS tracker is broken. How? Main theory: it got damaged when the mobile research center nearly turned Sage's robot into ro-bits, that's how! As a result, her location is a big 'ol error! She knows approximately where she is, but uh, she'll get lost very soon. Everything looks the same.

The stored Genkei Mushas… Sage doesn't have a signal from 'em! We had a hundred of 'em left for training later in the week, but they're busted. The Villains musta taken care of 'em before they attacked. Even if Sage uses 'em, she doesn't know if they can function correctly with the gas messing up their vision. If only she noticed earlier though, that something was amiss, then maybe, she could've warned everyone sooner. Instead, she was distracted by Mr. Compress tryna be Robin Hood or something! How rich is that, when he's allying himself with the immoral League?!

"Arg!" Sage throws herself into the back of her chair. The lever-thingy—the one you use to adjust the height—tremors like it's gonna snap off or something, making Sage's heart skip a beat thinking she's gonna break the chair's spine then her spine for falling off!

Scared, terrified for her life even, she leans forward—almost hopping kinda like a bunny—to stop herself from dying. She stares at her screens, blinking, pushing up her glasses, tryna see anything important. Location: who knows? Genkei Mushas: gone. Villains: who and where? The good guys: somewhere! What's there? Trees and purple fog. Sage almost thinks she's been transported to World War One with trench warfare and mustard gas and trench foot, basically medieval times!

It sucks. Last thing Sage knew is, well, Missingno and his girlfriend… They went their separate ways in the deep dark woods. Sage gets it. They gotta look out for themselves first. The gas could kill 'em, so they gotta trust that the other can make it out. If only the stupid gas-user was here, then Sage could use her Quirk on 'em. She'll know every secret it has. Its strengths, it weaknesses, everything! But they're hiding! They're hiding in their own Quirk, wanting to take everyone out without lifting a single finger. They're a coward. Everyone in the League are cowards.

Cowards who launch a surprise attack on us, targeting students who got nothing to do with their stupid games. They're the worst. Absolutely the worst. They're scumbags who belong to the gutter. They're the reason why… They're the reason why the Heroes are cruel, 'specially to Mama. If the Villains weren't so evil, the Heroes wouldn't be so evil back. Sage wouldn't hafta be locked in this boring room for her entire life.

Mama wouldn't hafta deal with ugly Edgeshot, or the old hag President, or Auntie Nagant being forced to assassinate the lowest of the low, and Hawks can finally fly free—we could step outside without being afraid of our own shadows. If… If Villains weren't so nasty. If only they weren't so nasty—like Stain, who makes spaghetti of Heroes' insides—then none of this would happen. It's all their fault. It's all their fault, Sage knows it! She has to do something or else…!

"Sage, do you wanna go outside? For real?"

…Or Missingno will die! His girlfriend! Mini-Might, the blonde guy, Endeavor's son, everyone who was yelling at each other, the Pussycats, they will all die and it'll be Sage's fault! Sage is special! She's not there, she's here, she's here between these four walls, not these trees copied-and-pasted from left to right. If Sage doesn't do anything, then everyone will die! Ragdoll and Pixie-Bob risked their lives to save these nuts-and-bolts—they didn't need to, they could've left Sage to die and she'd still be alright! But if they're not okay, it'll be Sage's fault that they got hurt.

The awful Shinobi could die too! Sage never liked him. She never liked how wordy he is, how confusing he is, how vile he is, how he keeps Mama on a leash, acting like he's so great when everything's falling apart 'round him, he's the worst! But he could die here. He could really die here.

And…

And Mama. She could die.

The stupid, god-awful Villains would target her. They know how great and smart and important she is, they'd totally mark her for death. Mama is just too good for 'em to leave alive. She's a genius. You know she's a genius 'cuz she gave birth to me, another genius! That's why the Villains gotta get rid of her. To hurt us. That's the only thing they know how to do: hurting us.

If Shinobi doesn't help her, then she'd leave me. She's gonna leave me like Auntie Nagant, who was so sad that she let her anger out on the President. Like Hawks, who get in his moods and leave for days, maybe weeks, at a time, doing something. Mama's gonna leave me all alone—I'll be trapped here, hugging my pillow, wanting her to come back 'cuz she promised. She promised, didn't she? That she would come back and give me a big hug—so big that I feel like dying—and a big kiss on my forehead—so big that I feel embarrassed—and eat a big dinner together—so big that I wish Hawks and Auntie Nagant would be here with us—and we would do more!

We would do more 'cuz she promised me! Mama promised me! She promised she would never ever leave me!

But…

But why was this happening again? Auntie Nagant promised me too, back then. Before she tried to assassinate the President, before bags formed under her eyes, she promised to never let me go.

She broke it when she betrayed the Commission.

Sage doesn't understand why… She doesn't understand anything…

She just doesn't.

But Mama has to come back. She's supposed to.

Mama…

"Uuuu…" Tears fall down Sage's face. "Mama…"

Sage tries to wipe her tears away and stop crying like the good girl she wants to be—the brave girl Mama knew her as—but she can't stop. She rubs her eyes like she was in the gas itself. They were all puffy, all red like a glitched-out character model from a game. She couldn't see her computer screens anymore. Everything's so blurry.

She tries hard, incredibly hard, to be courageous like her idols. Sage is nowhere near heroic as 'em, but she wants to be. They never cried. They never cried once in front of her, not a single time.

"Mama—!"

For most of Sage's memories, though, they looked like they wanted to cry. Their faces were tense, stern, showing that they were more than ready for a fight if one broke out. At the same time, tears were about to break out too. They weren't weak. They were never weak. Not like puny, fragile Sage. But Sage, every time she's alone and thinks 'bout 'em, she can't help but ask: Why were their eyes always like that?

"Mamaaaaa—!"

Sage… She doesn't know how to be like 'em.

Sage doesn't know how to be strong. She doesn't know how to hide her emotions behind a smile or a frown, practicing weird words like "stoicism". She doesn't know. She really doesn't know.

"Mama, please—! Come back—! Uuuuu—!"

Sage cries there, sunken in her chair, head laying on top of her desk littered with empty soda cans and bags of potato chips with crumbs spilling out. She plugs her ears with her hands, not wanting to listen to the hissing gas, 'cuz hearing it, it feels like Sage is actually in the forest in person, surrounded, choking out.

It's what Mama would feel if she got stuck in there. That's what makes it scary.

"Uuuuu…"

BEEP BEEP!

Her right monitor opens up a video call on its own. Sage picks up her head enough to see who's nagging her: it's the President. It takes a second for the call to load. The program maximizes to take up the entire screen, and in the forefront is the President sitting in her office, sweat pouring down her head. It's the first time Sage has seen her like this.

"Sage!" she blurts, losing the authoritative composure in her voice. The same woman who often yelled at Mama, maybe she's beginning to feel like her now. "What's happening at the camp?! Principal Nezu contacted me, saying that everyone has vanished!"

Sage sniffles, rubbing her eyes. "Th-The League… They're attacking. They found out where we were, and they ambushed us. Sage doesn't know where Mama is. Sage doesn't know what's going on!"

"Good God…" The President's mouth drops. "...I'm sending forces immediately, but it would take more than an hour for them to reach the forest. Sage, you need to provide support—"

"—How can Sage do that when she doesn't know where the heck she is?!"

"Sage, don't argue with me—!"

"—Sage is stuck in this stupid robot your dumb engineers made! She's not out there, fighting like the rest of 'em! She's not a Hero like Hawks or Edgeshot, even Nagant!"

"Don't be so childish!" She slams her fist onto her pristine desk. Her pencils and pens jump, scared of her rage. Sage even, she's so startled that she stops crying. "Crying is useless here! Crying won't solve anything! Japan's best hope is in danger here! We have next to no information, save for you, the closest link, but you're here sobbing about your mother!"

""Cuz Mama is in danger, you hag! Sage doesn't know what to do! Everyone keeps shouting at each other, and Sage can't do anything but watch! Everything is happening while Sage is doing nothing!"

The President clenches her fingers, a spring's worth of tension in her raggedly joints. Her face opens up like a dragon ready to bellow out a ball of fire, But she doesn't roast Sage alive. Her spring fingers slinkies out a lil', looking like claws, better than fists. The sweat gets into her eyes, and she wipes 'em. "This is not about you, Sage. This is about Japan. It supersedes trivialities. We have two Origin-type users within that forest. The death of one halves Japan's strength. I can only implore emergency responders to pick up the pace, but the distance is too great. They'll arrive when the attack is long over. That's why you need to provide support to alleviate the risks."

"Mama is in that forest," Sage tells her. "Don't forget that, hag! Mama is in that forest too, doing what you want her to do! Sage doesn't know how to help anyone! The tracker's broken, so Sage can't find her location, and this dumb thing doesn't come with any special lenses! No night vision, thermal imaging, nothing! The League found our stash of GMs and destroyed 'em, left nothing! Sage can only use the crappy controls on this thing and hope that she doesn't trip on a root!"

"..." The hag doesn't have a wit to snark back. She's thinking. She's using all of her brain cells to come up with an answer 'cuz Sage has nothing. Sage is simply a chicken with her head cut off, that's what she is! A chicken, a headless chicken!

"Old hag—"

"—Quiet. Every Genkei Musha has a tracker unless destroyed. Some of the scraps are located near the mobile research center, correct? Then try this: toggle the trackers on your map. It'll give you reference points, so the most you need to do is recognize notable clearings and ponds to gauge your location."

Sage grits her teeth. It's a smart idea, but Sage wanted to be the one to come up with that, ugh! Fine, fine! Sage can't cry anymore, she can't! She has to help everyone, 'specially Mama and Missingno!

She toggles the trackers, letting 'em show up on her map. Sage counted that 'round ninety-five of the two hundred destroyed—during Missingno's and Mini-Might's trek on their first day—had their trackers functional. After Sage's tinkering with their corpses, that number went down to seventy-one. The dots on the screen, the display's telling Sage that it's still…

Seventy-one?

Eh?

"Sage, what's with that look? Did you discover something?"

"Sage recorded the number of trackers that are still intact. Last time she counted, she had seventy-one. The map has seventy-one markers… The same ones during Mini-Might's and Missingno's campaign."

"That's absurd. There's supposed to be one hundred GMs left over. Unless the League obilerated every last one, that is. That's unlikely. They aren't known for being meticulous. If they were, they would've spotted the scrap pile and eliminated any trackers there… So how could one hundred GMs go off the grid spontaneously…?"

"..."

"..."

We realize what's going on.

"...Uh oh."

---

Setsuna Tokage - Moments After Sanji Inochi's Encounter with Incognito - 7:20PM

"Someone take care of that straitjacket guy!"

"Pixie! Ragdoll! Come in! Come in, dammit!"
"We need more gas masks, Momo!"

"Shit, can barely see anything!"

"Vlad King, can you ascertain the status of your students?!"

"Not to be a doomer, but there's fire!"
"Does it fucking look like I can?! I barely see a meter in front of me! I—shit!"

"Get back, Uraraka!"

"I can't see anything!"
"Rin, here's a mask!"

"Where's Sanji and Itsuka?! I can't find them!"

"...Uugh."

TRSSCHT!

"God, is that you…? I've been a good girl, I promise…"

"No, but thank goodness you're not gravely injured."

"Is a concussion not a grievous injury…?" I mutter while my savior's putting something on my face. I catch the amazing aroma of burnt wood and blood. No, it's not amazing—I want out of this nightmare 'cause I'm not liking what I see so far.

He pulls a strap of velcro, tightening whatever-the-heck-this-is on my face. I pat at it. It's a gas mask. Through the lenses, I get to see a familiar face: a boy with black hair, the only guy who has a ponytail. It's Hiryu. "We have gas about to cover this entire area, and I think fire's encroaching in. I don't know where our enemies are, I don't know if they're real or clones, and there's multiple of the same Villain. Not to mention that we're scattered…

"Err, long story short, we're not in a good place."

I blink a couple of times. "No kidding! Holy shit, this is serious. Help me up!"

Hiryu takes my hand and lifts me to my feet. I wibble-wobble, feeling blood trickling down my beautiful head. Dammit, hope this doesn't scar… I can't remember what happened the second before… But taking a good look behind me, I can faintly see the mobile research center is on its side. Must've been tossed. That's how I got knocked unconscious. Hurray.

I look around again. Towards my "front"—honestly, I'm only calling it a "front" because that's where most of the people are at—we have a line established. The Pros and some of the bruisers from each class are brawling. With what? Well, I catch a creepy guy in a straitjacket spitting his teeth out and there's a couple of Nomus with as many arms as a hydra has heads, each with a chainsaw sticking out. That's all I can see at the moment.

Behind the front line are the rest of the roster—assumingly, at least. We have supports helping the front-line fighters out with whatever they need. We got Yaomomo pumping out gas masks, letting us distribute them, some are putting up defenses especially around Kota, but a lot of people are licking their wounds and standing 'round. Both 1-A and 1-B. They don't know what to do. Don't blame them.

As far as I'm concerned, we don't have any Villains attacking us from behind. Doesn't mean they wouldn't. Something to keep track of.

So, what's step one of this operation? Not freaking dying, that's what. We need to identify our problems.

Problem one: Identification of the Vanguard Action Squad. We need their numbers, Quirks, and locations. Mr. Compress, according to that weird girl in that robot, can compress anything into his blue balls—dear God, never knew that sentence can be a thing; one Villain can clone, one Villain can create this gas, one guy can create fire, and the teeth guy has teeth. That's all I know so far. Oh, don't forget the Nomu.

Problem two: Determine the status of every good guy here. Let's be honest, I have no idea who's here and who's not here. I don't doubt that some got spooked and ran. Collecting the information by hand is not an effective use of time, that's for sure.

Problem three: Aid the injured. It takes two soldiers to take care of one wounded—that's a saying I've heard sometimes. I doubt that everyone is spotless and walking. Thus, "aid the injured" is actually "establish a safe zone". We need a place where we're consistently not in harm's way.

This is not it.

So problem four: We need to regroup. It's horrible if we split up because that's what the Vanguard wants. Doing that, we're easy pickings. We need to not only get together, but also, prevent others from recklessly chasing the bad guys (see: Bakugo if he didn't run away already).

Thankfully, we have problem five: Contact outside help. I think we can solve this easily. The weird girl in the robot, Sage, is not physically here. She's off somewhere, someplace, I dunno, but she can contact the Commission for help. Really, we just gotta last until help arrives.

Problem one and two can be solved easily: Ragdoll. Maybe Sage? Don't know her Quirk, but if she's able to spill the Quirk beans on Mr. Compress, then she must have an analytic ability to suss out anyone's Quirks.

So let's call this problem one-point-five: Find them.

This would be so much easier if we had one thing: ear pieces. Communication is vital here. I'm sure Yaomomo can make them, but she's focusing on gas masks at the moment. Something to consider later.

Unfortunately, all this thinking gives me a headache. Hurts like hell, but a genius like me doesn't get discouraged from a needle prick. But I got myself straight. Just need to find Ragdoll and Sage.

Mandalay, she'll know.

"Hiryu, you're with me! Since Sanji and Itsuka are nowhere to be seen, someone has to step up!" I pat his chest. Out of the corner of my eye, the gas is creeping in. I'd say we have about thirty to forty-five seconds until it envelops us all. Crap, that means if Ragdoll is injured, that's our time limit.

Without letting Hiryu respond, or letting him catch his breath really, I spot Mandalay. A paw to her earpiece, the other dragging dumb Kaminari back by a claw, overwhelmed, overloaded, over-everything. I run up and grab her by the shoulder—almost instantly, she spins around and nearly elbows my head off. Thankfully, she stops herself from unleashing her kitty anger on this lizard. "Tokage! You're conscious! I—!"

"—Where's Ragdoll and Sage?! We kinda need 'em right now!" I had to shout over the background fighting that's going on. Mister Kan's pumping blood like no tomorrow, the amazing noise of teeth moling into the literal earth, it's a very peachy time for my ears, the greatest composition that Mozart would quiver from.

The straitjacket guy has his teeth spurt from the ground to our right. We instinctively crouch, duck away, and retreat further towards the center. We watch them divert its path away from us, and we collectively share a sigh of relief. Mandalay groans, deciding to catch her claws into Kaminari's shirt, digs into the cotton, and with both arms, heaves him towards the rest of his friends. Now she can answer: "I don't know! Pixie-Bob is missing too! I can't get a response from them!"

...She didn't tell me where she saw them last. It'd be the first thing Mandalay tells me if she knew. That isn't good. Ever since Sanji and Bakugo caused an inter-class riot, it makes sense why no one is able to confirm the last locations of, well, everyone else. The missing persons are either still in this area or beyond the treeline.

I hope it's not the latter. I can't do anything about that.

So let's assume it's the former. Logically, where would they be? Where would they be...

"...I know where they are."

The answer clicks.

Then it sets in.

"Oh, that's not good."

"Tokage?!"
"Setsuna?!"

"We're running again, Hiryu!" Without explaining why—I don't have time to explain why—I dash back to the center. Nearly, Kaminari almost makes me fall over from his mindless stumbling. I skirt 'round him, glance back at Hiryu, who takes Kaminari and gives him a gentle push towards Yaomomo and a few others.

Oh, that reminds me! It'd be devastating if I forgot! "Grab two masks, Hiryu!" To emphasize further, just in case he doesn't hear me, I hold up two fingers and gesture towards Yaomomo—!

—WRRRR!

A wave of blue fire rushes from the front line. It's about seven or so meters away, yet I can feel the heat. The intensity of the flames make me stop dead in my tracks. A warning flashes inside my head, blaring "Watch out! Watch out!" thinking I was gonna die for a second. My automatic mental processes shut off over the coming moments. I step back, fumbling my footwork, recover into a solid backtrack, spin on my heels, then continue my search like nothing happened.

Yeah, let's pretend that didn't happen. Getting roasted alive with fire that's literally hotter than Endeavor's? Nope, not today. Thankfully, my moment of stage fright isn't an isolated event. Plenty of others felt the same thing, especially the one I'm looking for.

"Ibara!" I dash up to her, where she's erecting a small wall made of Vines to shield Kota from any harm. The little guy's glaring at me through his gas mask like he's saying, "You're the ones who did this to me." Y'know what, I'm not touching that! "No time to explain, but come with me!"

She stops what she's doing, staring wide-eyed at me. "What about Kota?!"

Kota butts, "Just leave me, why do you care? Die like the other idiots…"

"Kota!" Ibara exclaims in shock. "You ought to never—!"

—I grab her wrist. "We literally can't do this right now! I need your help!"

I drag Ibara away from Kota. Yaomomo and Uraraka give me the side-eye. Their mouths open to object; they can't. What's happening is happening. While frustrated, they close their lips and fill in the gap that Ibara left, resolving to protect Kota. Ibara protests at my decision physically, trying to wiggle herself out of my grasp. Behind us, I hear more roaring of the same blue fire, and the exacavation of the teeth guy.

"C'mon—!" I grab her arm with both of my hands, pulling her back and around the fallen, tipped-over mobile research center. The gas is piling in. Fifteen seconds, maybe? A little more, little less? I check on Hiryu. He's following us with two masks in hand. He looks back at the chaos, and he picks up the pace. He doesn't see a plastic bar on the ground, probably belonging to the research center, and stumbles over. He recovers, rolling into his shoulder and quickly making it back onto his feet.

Ibara starts to pry her fingers into mine—we're just about to turn the corner of this stupid knock-off RV. I yank us a few inches over, I turn my head inside, and…

Oh God.

"Pixie-Bob?! Ragdoll?!" I dash over. A second after, I realize I let go of Ibara. Thankfully, she doesn't abandon me and go back to what she was doing before; she sees them as clearly as I do. Following that, I hear Hiryu gasping, him muttering something in Chinese to himself.

I had a feeling they were injured. It was one of the possibilities I considered since I woke up, and of course, this is the timeline we get. But staring at the blood now, I'm surprised a human being has that much in them! In us! Sure, I literally have a teacher who can use his blood like tomorrow, but that's different! Controlled bleeding—if that actually exists! This is… This is a whole other level.

The last time I saw this bad of an injury was back with Catharsis or I-Island. Then, we had breathing room. We knew we could handle this. As we speak, our breathing room is getting sucked away, literally. God, I anticipated seeing some guts and gore, but why is this so—?!

"—Setsuna!"

Someone shakes me by the shoulders. It's Ibara. "Focus, please! You want me to lift the center with my Vines, correct?!"

I—right… Right! Shit, I froze up! Lost a few seconds there, can't happen again! I rattle the shivers outta my head. Ibara and Hiryu are with me, I need to acknowledge that. I brought them here for a reason. I need to recompose my thoughts. Let's think.

If Ragdoll and Pixie-Bob were still within the clearing, they had to be in one location: behind the mobile research center. No one else saw them, so no one would have approached them. Given they haven't came out and helped, then it would signal that they were injured, or at the least, immobile. They wouldn't have gotten a chance to nab a couple of gas masks, so I made Hiryu get them. I also anticipated that we may need to lift this waste of metal off the ground, so I needed to find either Ibara or Jurota, both capable of doing that—Ibara was preferable, and I ended up finding her first, lucky us.

Those were my original intentions.

I nod, then nod again, making sure the thoughts stick in my gorgeous brain. "Right! Right right right! Ibara, do that! Hiryu, gimme one of the masks! We need to put them on Ragdoll and Pixie immediately!"

I don't have the effects of the gas confirmed, but common sense tells me that it's a bad idea to inhale it.

Hiryu tosses one to me. Ibara gets on her knees, putting her hands together. Her hair twists into multiple tendrils that pierce the earth, and from below, emerge and push against the center in various points best for leverage. This happens within a second, having enough force to lift the steel edge off of Ragdoll and Pixie-Bob.

"Uuuuh…" Ragdoll mutters, dazed and discombobulated. Her eyes sway from side-to-side, unable to process the sight in front of her: AKA us. "...P-Pixie…"

I can see what's going on. Pixie's laying on top of Ragdoll, and mud is falling from the long face of this steel deathtrap like rain. It drips onto their bodies. In this nightmare, it's hard to tell the dark clumps from the dark color of blood. Ibara has a few more inches to go before we can safely pull them out, but looking towards the deep end, there's where I can see blood.

Crush injuries. I don't know which leg belongs to who. They're both covered in mud from the shoulders down.

"Ah…" I understand now. Before the research center fell on top of them, Pixie reacted fast enough to throw herself onto Ragdoll. They fell to the ground, and in that desperate moment, Pixie used Earth Flow to mitigate the center's fall. It wasn't enough to stop it completely. It still crushed them, but with the layer of mud added with the reduced velocity, it might as well saved their lives.

Actually…

...It saved Ragdoll's. Pixie used her body as another layer of redundancy. I'm sure she's alive too, but I have no guarantee that we can keep her stable until help arrives.

Not here, not now.

I loosen the velcro strap on the gas mask in my hands. It doesn't mean we won't try. We gotta try! I shout at Hiryu, "Put the masks on first before we move them!"

We have enough room to do it. I take Pixie-Bob first, lifting her head off of Ragdoll. I bat her blonde-dyed-crimson-and-brown hair outta the way, feeling blood oozing from an open wound on her head. I manage to find a good stable place to wrap the straps around the back. Making sure the front has an airtight seal—and pausing when I catch her vaulted eyes, lashes dipped in blood. For the past few days, they were always so open and cheery; each time she winked, I could see stars coming outta them.

While Mandalay is a mature beauty, Pixie's the upbeat girl, who yeah, maybe acted like a ditz a lot of the time, but her energy brought life into us students.

I take a deep breath in.

I can't focus on that right now. I really, really, really can't. I might cry.

The mask is airtight. The straps are holding. Pixie can breathe. The gas won't do her in. I glance to my left. Hiryu managed to do the same for Ragdoll. We can take them out. It's, uh, we're not medical professionals so we're doing it wrong, but it's better out than in, I know that.

"Pull, Hiryu!" I tell him. Grabbing their costumes by the collars, we manage to drag the two of them outta the wreckage, far enough where Ibara can comfortably set the research center down without any worry of further injury. Gently, we place Pixie beside Ragdoll, laying both of them out on the grass.

Pixie's… Y'know, I've heard of crush injuries. Never seen them, but I see one right now. Two actually. Her legs are crushed, and I'm thankful that I can't see the gory bits. The mud formed by Earth Flow, for the better or for worse, censors them just enough where I won't immediately puke.

I gather my wits and check her pulse: beating. Okay, she's alive. Thank God and Ibara for that…

And finally, the air feels heavier behind me, then around my shoulders, squeezing my head… It's surrounding us. Ragdoll starts squirming, moaning in pain. Crap, I almost forgot about her. In terms of injuries, specifically crush injuries, her legs aren't as damaged as her partner's. Minor crush injuries I reckon, cuts and bruises here and there I'd bet, most likely rib fractures considering Pixie put her weight onto her body when the thing fell…

Shit, I need to consider Pixie-Bob's back. I don't know what injuries it could have, but none of them are good. I—

—Ragdoll suddenly grasps my arm. Her dirty paw shares some of the mud with me. Her body shifts, almost like she's spasming. It's… Ah, the gas. Open wounds and gas, bad mix. I'm assured that it's not, y'know, the melt-your-face-off gas. "T-Tokage…"

"Stay still, Ragdoll!" I swap glances between her and Pixie, trying to figure out how best transport them. "We can—"

"—Save…" Ragdoll mutters, voice weak, breathless. She blinks, several times slower than normal, a dribble of blood trickling down from her forehead to her left eye. "...S-Save Ryuko…"

"..."

"..."

"..."

For some reason, the three of us stop.

WRRRR!

BOOM!

"Holy—! Where did that come from?!"

"Everyone, get back! Stay together! Stay together!"

"Shit shit shit shit!"

"Eraserhead! Anyone! Find Tokage and the others! Protect Kota!"

"Gaaah!"
"Sero?!"

"What's our orders?! What the fuck can we do now?!"
"Where's Bakugo?!

Ragdoll starts crying. "P-Please… I can't… I can't lose her..."

Saving Pixie-Bob… Saving Ryuko…

...Is this what it means to be a Hero?

How can we move her?

"My arm! Shit, it's bleeding!"

"Does someone have bandages?!"

How can we move Pixie-Bob?

Anything we do, we could jeopardize them. We need to get to Mandalay. But, but… Is it a safe place? Let's say that we do figure out a way to bring them to her. What's stopping the Villains from putting the nail in their coffin?

We don't have the medical equipment to stabilize anyone! We don't have the experience or the knowledge to do it right! Oh God, this is really bad! Really really really bad, what the heck can we do?! C'mon Setsuna, you're the girl genius, think of something to get our asses outta this! You did something, you managed to find Ragdoll and Pixie before the gas took 'em, so find a way outta here!

"Setsuna, we need to move, now!" plead Hiryu. "How do we carry them?! All we have are Ibara's Vines!"

Ibara adds, "I-I'm not sure if I feel comfortable enough carrying them! I could hurt them more!"

"I'm thinking!" I shout, screaming spit into the air filters. "I'm trying to THINK! We can do this, right?! We're 1-B, we're the best, we can definitely, most definitely, do this! We can save Pixie-Bob, we can save Ragdoll, we can find Sanji, Itsuka, find 'em and get the fuck outta here! Help is coming, I know it, we just need to hold off!"

"What about now?!" Hiryu yells. "We need a way to transport them before the Villains come! We could get attacked in any second!"

"I know that! Gimme a second, alright?! I'm a genius, just give this genius some time!"

"We don't have any time!" Hiryu slams his hands on the grass. "This isn't like I-Island! We were ambushed by the League! Who knows how many forces are lurking behind every tree?! It's—!"

"—Fuhaha, I finally found you, my friends," a haughty voice appears from the other end of the mobile research center. He takes a few steps forward, his right sleeve soaked in blood. His arm is exposed, revealing a large gash on his forearm. He notices me staring at it. "Looking at this flesh wound…? Hah, it stings in the gas. Thank that heiress for giving me of all people a mask though, I appreciate the thought. Too bad I'm not quick enough to avoid the straitjacket man's attack…"

I mutter, "Neito…"

He doesn't respond. He steps forward—each step leaving droplets of blood in his wake—gets on his knees beside Ragdoll, and places his hand on her head. Her eyes drift over to him. His eyes illuminate. "I assure you, Ragdoll, that we will save everybody. No one will die tonight."

Neito looks up at me. "Setsuna, do you mind passing the baton?"

Jeez… If Itsuka saw me now, she would hit me…

Got no other choice, can I? I'm stumped.

I nod. "Alright…"

---

Neito Monoma - 7:23PM

"...The ball is in your court, Neito."

I smile and nod. "Trust me."

For once, no one has the look of mistrust, assuming I would do anything mischievous or nefarious even. No, they look towards me for a solution. I am their hope. Heh, I suppose this is no time for my antics, only antics that will make our enemies whine in frustration. That's what I hope for. Orders need to be given, yet the Heroes are fighting without time to give them. Respites need to be have, yet we have none.

Especially, we need aid, yet we have no time nor space to give it. My right arm is evidence that maybe this is not the best circumstances. Though, the pain is sobering. Perhaps I can thank my wound for clearing my head, or curse myself knowing that I might develop a taste for masochism.

Nevertheless, this is the way forward.

Though my smile isn't as gallant as Midoriya's or All Might's, I hope it gives some reassurance to Ragdoll. The only response I receive is that of a drawn-out blink, yet I can ascertain her message well: I trust you, Monoma.

I activate Search.

Ragdoll's Quirk, perfect for Rescue Heroes, need I to go on its potential? It allows her to observe a large quantity of individuals at once. That's all I know, I'm afraid. If I was Midoriya, then I'd surely know every intrincities, such as range, duration, yet I'm not as enthusiastic about heroism as he is.

The only aspect I do know, it will be enough.

It's an out-of-body experience. It's as if my vision has been transferred into a camera or a drone, then flown to a high point where birds flock, looking down upon the vast space of woods and groves. At the same time, I can still feel the gas seeping into my blood, and the sounds of combat not so far away. The smell of blood, burnt wood, and foul chemicals will ruin scented candles forever, I fear.

My consciousness and the rest of my senses are still in my physical body, yet only my vision is taken away and elevated, well, literally.

SPARKLE SPARKLE!

"Ah…" All at once, information is transported inside my mind. The locations of everyone, I know them. They're evident by sparkles, glittering stars within the darkness of the night, not a lumen is filtered through the swaths of dark green. Not only that, I know exactly who most of them are. It's hard to describe, but it's as if my internal voice is telling me who every sparkle represents. Unfortunately, as I implied earlier, some sparkles have unknown identities. Their location is revealed, but not their names. It's logically safe to conclude that they're Villains.

In addition, I know everyone's coordinates for navigation purposes, but that won't be useful since most of us here can't use them appropriately—me included. How can I relay this information to everyone else? I revealed the location of the gas-user, which I can confirm that they're in the eye of the storm…

What do I do with this information is the question… Ah, it's pointless to keep this to myself. I may be a selfish, bumbling fool, but I'm not a lone wolf like some people. I deactivate Search. My vision returns back to my proper body, and it's a nauseous experience, like I experienced an entire rollercoaster within a second.

I stumble on my hands and knees. I put too much weight on my right arm, and my elbow gives out. I manage to catch myself barely, also with Hiryu's attentiveness, he holds me up to ensure I don't fall face-first into the ground and compromise the seal on my gas mask. I raise my hand, and he backs away. Clearing my throat, I explain, "S-Sorry, using Ragdoll's Search has some unexpected effects, goodness…"

"Did it work though?" Setsuna asks. "Please tell me that we got a win."

I nod. "We have a small victory, but I have no effective way of relaying this information to everyone, let alone in this environment. That's why we need to take care of the gas-user, and I know exactly where they are. Afterwards, we can regroup and count our losses."

"So some of us need to head there immediately," concludes the genius, "it's a losing battle otherwise."

"What about Ragdoll and Pixie-Bob?" inquires Ibara. "Do we stay here?"

Setsuna gazes upon the two women, shutting her eyes for a moment. "What choice do we have? If we move 'em, we're gonna blunder. Besides—" she raps her knuckles on the roof of the strange RV, "—this can provide cover. We'll be able to see any attacks coming from this way too. Saying that, here's what we're gonna do: Ibara stays with me, and Hiryu heads to the gas-user with Neito."

"I was about to suggest that." I tap my forehead—left hand, of course. "Like-minded as always. If we don't have anything else, I suggest that Hiryu and I need to get moving."

Hiryu shakes his head, standing up. "Let's go. No time to waste."

Ibara puts a hand over her chest. "May God be with you."

Setsuna nods. "Godspeed. Don't die on us."

"I have no plans to." With that, I stand, taking the lead. With Search, I myself have my own sparkle. It's the brightest one in the entire batch, I'd say, presumably presenting as a reference in comparison to the rest of the points. There, using that knowledge, even in this gas, I know where to go.

So I run with Hiryu behind me, a negligible distance between the two of us. We have to nearly be side-by-side. Every meter deeper into the hurricane of toxic fumes, it becomes harder to hear each other over the wind.

Hiryu takes a greater effort to ask, "Are you sure we're going the right way!"

"Certain!" I hold up the OK-sign with my left hand. "Don't speak from this point on, Hiryu! We might have gas masks, but our air filters won't last! The gas is getting thicker already, so let's reserve our air as much as possible!"

He nods, saying nothing more. We can only traverse through the forest with our destination in mind. I didn't see any unknown individuals near the epicenter other than the presumed gas-user in question, so we can have confidence in that fact. Hiryu is capable enough to defeat them by himself. As much as I would love to participate fully, I'm afraid I'm much too concerned about my current injuries.

And I'm much too concerned about the present situation. The teethman was the reason why my right arm stings so much, and whoever's creating the blue fire is most likely trying to burn us down by either the flames themselves or the fumes. Not to mention the Nomus. They all came from the marbles that Mr. Compress threw before he returned to mud. It's likely that the other attackers are clones as well, yet with the chaos of the ambush and the limiting gas, with us, the students shellshocked, our Heroes have too much on their list of worries.

I ought to make use of the second Quirk I stole: Telepath. It's Mandalay's, allowing her to use one-way communication via telepathy to a large number of people. She hadn't used Telepath yet—I assume that she's inflicted with a barrage of responsibilities that prevent her from maintaining consistent thought.

I hope she's available for a phone call right now. If my intuition is correct, with both of us having Telepath, we can freely share information without restriction.

I activate it, feeling my mind buzz. How should I describe this feeling…? Well, imagine myself as a sort of radio tower of the sorts, sending radio waves around a large radius. I receive a "ping" from everyone accessible via Telepath, receiving a signal in return. I can freely pick and choose who I want to communicate with.

Unlike Search, I have no indication of the distance nor location of each individual in relation to myself. It's either: I receive a ping from X person or I do not. Essentially, it's a contact list on my smartphone.

Of course, I ought to speak with Mandalay only.

I send her a message: "Mandalay, it's Neito Monoma. Are you available?"

Silence. She doesn't respond for nigh five or so seconds; however, by the mere fact that I'm able to send a message signals that she's conscious.

I grow tired of the ghosting, so I contact her again: "Mandalay—"

"—So that's why you suddenly touched my shoulder."

I smile underneath my mask. My deduction was correct. "I'll apologize later. Can you and the other Heroes hold off against our attackers?"

"For a little while longer, yes—!" She cuts off.

"Mandalay?"

No response, only the sound of the spinning whirlwind.

"Mandalay?!"

"Ugh, had a close call!" An audible sigh of relief escapes my lips. "Give me a status report, Monoma! You're not in the clearing anymore, aren't you?!"

Her tone makes me hesitate. The battle in her voice mildly terrifies me. I would laugh, but this is no time for that. "...I'm not. I copied Search from Ragdoll—"

"—Ragdoll?! Where is she?! Tokage said she'll find her but hasn't came back!"

The sudden emotion merges with her present anger. I hesitate again, fearing that Mandalay might do something irrational, but my logic says otherwise—I ought to trust Mandalay and her heroism experience. "Behind the steel coffin. Pixie-Bob is with her, but…"

"..."

"...They're not in a good condition, Mandalay. So much that Setsuna and Ibara are staying put. Moving them is too risky."

I don't receive a message for a few seconds, but I can almost hear a small quiver in her throat. "...Good call."

And the emotion I heard earlier disappears, replaced with the tempered, steeled timbre of rationality and stoicism. It reminds me of Eraserhead almost, but compared to his, Mandalay has a thin layer of sorrow hidden in her intonations.

I move from the subject: "I found the gas-user using Search. I'm on the way to apprehend them with Hiryu Rin. It should only take a few minutes, so can you determine if we can last that long?"

"We'll make sure of it. This is a good piece of news, so I'll send this message to everyone via Telepath. The morale boost will give you more than enough time to take them down."

"Yes ma'am."

"And Monoma."

"Hmm?"

"Be safe. Come back as soon as possible and bring the unconscious Villain with you. Since you have Search, you're going to be essential to this operation."

"You as well. Without you as our Heroes, we'd be floundering even with our experience." I shut my eyes briefly. "I'm signing off."

"Good luck. Mandalay, out."

I'm telling the truth, by the way. This is different from I-Island. There, we had the pleasure of experienced Heroes with one of the strongest men on the planet. We felt like we had the advantage in every way possible, and although circumstances dictated otherwise, our confidence grew, then hardened with our friendships in tow.

Now, this forest camping trip had been nothing but anxiety. Edgeshot and his Commission-mandated training gave us frightening implications, heightened by Itsuka's reluctance, dramatically escalated by what happened just minutes earlier. A few from both 1-A and 1-B were about to brawl where their emotions spread like wildfire to the rest of us.

Then the reveal of the Vanguard Action Squad underneath the League of Villains… They ambushed us, impaired our vision, forced us to suddenly scramble, fortunately, yet barely coming together as the Heroes pushed them towards the treeline only to find gas and fire creeping in. We were cornered, relying on Yaoyorozu for suitable equipment, trying to make heads and tails of what to do next.

This truly is different from I-Island. We found ourselves in a fight, and we laid the rules. Here, we are fighting with the League's rules, and we have zero clue what they are.

"Ah…" The gas is much thicker than before. We're close. I slow my run down into a brisk job, conserving as much air as possible. Now, it's a possibility that we might encounter the gas-user accidentally. I could use Search again to determine their exact position, but it'll be a risky strategy.

It's surefire, yes, but I have another method: the swirl of the gas itself. I stop, Hiryu stops too. I raise a finger, drawing a circle with the tip, a trail of purple gas left in its wake. His eyes widen, understanding my gestures. Using the movement of the gas, we can calculate where the gas-user is.

I don't need to lead Hiryu anymore, so I allow him to take the lead with a pat of his back. He takes the signal and steps in front. Scales protrude from his exposed skin, and I can see outlines of the jagged edges poking through his shirt. There, we maintain a careful, steady walk, following the gas.

It's still probable that we'll encounter them before we're ready, but I'd say this is better than blindly charging in, ill-prepared for whatever weapons they have. With Hiryu as my shield, he should hopefully ensure our victory. It's an irresponsible thought to use my friend as a human shield and delegate the hard work to him, but I enjoy my right arm and would prefer to keep it.

Thus, we march, my hand on his shoulder, him pushing through the ravaging toxins and foliage, as the fate of the entirety of our classmates and teachers lie within our hands. No option other than going forward, acting as the Heroes as we originally sought out to be. Our filters are running dry with no clue when, and the strength of our allies cannot maintain their current level for long. We don't have a single time limit, but multiple of them.

If any one of them runs out, then we lose. Simple as that.

Despite logic, I take a deep breath in, anticipating the fight ahead. It's beginning to dawn on me that our grades aren't at risk here, nor any threats of supplementary training or inane activities. Our lives and the lives of others are chips on the table. The winner takes all, absolute.

The pain in my arm, the blood dripping down, was used to clear my head of panic. Ironically, one may think otherwise where it'd exacerbate exactly that. Appears to me that I'm different than most. Now, maybe I'm arguing against it. This is evidence that I can be killed. A few more inches to my right, that man's teeth would've struck my chest and I'd bleed out.

I'm not a hardened soldier. I can't act like a machine, ridding myself of any irrelevant thoughts. Cursing myself for my inexperience feels like the best thing to do. Disappointing that I'm exactly in a position where I cannot scream into the void about my insecurities.

Hiryu's Scales prod into the palm of my left hand. I ease my grip slightly. We step over an exposed root, thick and sturdy, outmatched by the thickness of the air. Only Hiryu is visible now. Our breathing rings in our ears, and that too is crawling into silence. Clean air is a luxury. Taking normal breaths is abnormal.

What's louder? The roaring of wind, masking the threat inside, or my heartbeat, disquieted from the grief shed by my arm, the killer lurking in the woods, or death by asphyxiation? Worst of all: failure, leading to the deaths of everyone?

Or perhaps—!

—POP!

"Ghrk!"

THNK!

The sound of a gunshot piercing the tempest, and a metaphorical bullet piercing my heart?

From seemingly nowhere, a pistol is fired—I'm not a gun nut like Itsuka's mother, yet I'm sure that's the sound of a pistol, or at least a sidearm. The bullet strikes Hiryu's collarbone. He's forced back, caught by surprise from the sudden force, before roughly grabbing and pushing me behind the nearest tree.

He does the same, less than a meter across. Blood begins to pour from where the bullet struck. Hiryu looks down, sees the lead embedded into his cracked Scales. It pierced them upon a second glance, about a centimeter or two into his flesh. Hiryu winces, slowly coming down and taking the bullet out. He shakes his hand, presumably from the heated metal, watching the blood pour from his open wound; next, he looks to me and flashes a thumbs-up.

Well, I'm certain that neither of us asked whether or not his Scales can take a bullet. We have an answer, and we're thankful for it, however, his armor isn't like Tetsutetsu's. Hiryu cannot take anything more than small calibers, and multiple hits will weaken the integrity of the whole.

If he's shot in the head…

…Let's pray that his Scales can take it.

"I thought I caught some rats sneaking around!" yells the Villain above the wind. He's a man—actually no, his voice is muffled, perhaps with his own gas mask, but he sounds…oddly young? Younger than me, actually. "Wanna reveal yourself? I got a few bullets with your names on them, so come out and play! Heroes aren't cowards, right?!"

Hiryu and I exchange glances. He lifts his right arm, straightens it, and fires a three-round burst of Scales into a random direction. It hits nothing as far as I know. The gas, though, has its flow suddenly altered, pacing itself faster for a moment or two, then slowing back to normality. Is it responsive to the movements of the Villain?

"Nice try, I know that wasn't a person!" replies the gas-user. "I can tell where you are by disruptions in the gas flow, you know! It's impossible to hide from me! This is my castle, fuckers!"

This one boasts like I do… Hearing more of his voice, he's nowhere near an adult. He's a minor. Don't tell me…

"Hiryu, I think this might be a student in junior high."

Hiryu's eyes shoot open, staring at me. Ah, I'm not quite sure it's from my Telepath, as I never disclosed I copied it, or from the revelation.

"It doesn't change the fact that he's a Villain. Using a gun at that. His age might play into our favor. He'll be impulsive—"

"—Come out, already!" he cries. "Pampered fucks, at least you're making it fun for me! It'd be boring if you tried to charge in like idiots marching to your grave! Gives me the thrill of killing U.A. students!

"Hehe…" He starts laughing. That laugh can only belong to an immature kid. He really is younger than us. "…We already killed one of you."

"…?!

"What…?"

"Sanji Inochi," he answers. "Incognito shot him dead."

I shake my head at Hiryu. "He's lying! I used Search! Last time I checked, Sanji was still alive!"

But he continues, "Don't believe me?! Well, who could blame you?! You think you're invincible with your Quirks and all! I'm here to prove that you're human like the rest of us!"

SNAP!

Over there!

"—So die—"

—POP!

"Neito—!"

—THUD!

"Mmrk—!" A bullet came from my left and struck the air filter. The force is great enough where the seal is broken, and much of the mask has been torn through in its trajectory. As soon as I heard the audible sound of twigs snapping, I used Hiryu's Quirk, Scales, to immediately form a protective layer over my body.

It was the right choice. The bullet has taken my mask, and it would've taken my cheek too if Scales didn't stop it. I ought to count my blessings after this! Regardless, I fall to the ground soon after, directly on top of my wounded right arm. I stop myself from crying in pain, going against human nature I might add; the second I open my mouth, I'm afraid that this prince would fall asleep otherwise.

Oh, should I mention that my head isn't meant to absorb the impact of bullets? Well, that goes for nearly any part of the body. My point stands. It rings like a church bell, a concussion surely.

"Found you," mocks the Villain.

POP POP!

Two shots follow suit. Hiryu dashes forward and takes both of them into his forearms. He reaches down and grabs my collar, pulling me back. "Hold your breath!"

I don't reply. Well, of course I don't reply. I need to hold my breath as long as humanly possible! I lift my left arm and shoot an array of Scales from the back of my hand, laying covering fire in the Villain's direction. My aim is awful. Wouldn't be able to hit the biggest target there is, but it keeps the Villain at bay, not returning fire. It gives Hiryu enough time to pull me towards another tree, a thick and wide one at that, where we both can take cover behind.

POP!

The second after my firing stops, a bullet strikes the side of the tree trunk, grazing it. Splinters of wood spark off like embers. I manage to stand back to my feet, still holding my breath. I can only go on for less than a minute, I predict.

"Damn, guess I hit the same guy with the Hardening-type, eh? Unlucky. I wanted to blow the brains outta the normal one. I was so disappointed that I didn't hear you scream about your dead friend.

"I can change that."

POP!

"Let me hear you."

Another bullet hits the tree. Hiryu and I huddle closer. Switching cover isn't the most ideal considering he can track our positions—!

—POP!

"Show me 'Plus Ultra', dammit!"

But what's also isn't ideal is being under fire! The length between gunshots is getting shorter!

POP!

"Are you a buncha Heroes or cowards?!"

In the heat of the moment, Hiryu touches my shoulder and begins to, err, climb the tree.

POP!

"Hurry up and die, already!"

I see how it is, Hiryu! Leaving me with the Villain, having chips of wood digging underneath my Scales!

POP!

"I'll let All Might sing your praises at your funeral!"

Dangerously so, I blindly fire Scales around my cover. I hear the Villain curse out loud, his frantic footsteps crushing every bush and twig he finds to avoid the sharp projectiles. I fire as long as possible in any available direction I find.

I—!

TOK!

—I don't continue to fire. A barrel's pressed against the side of my head. Almost, I take a breath in. I caught myself before a fatal error; well, less fatal than the one I'm in right now. He managed to evade my Scales and flank me. Damnit. If only this gas wasn't here, I wouldn't have been beaten so easily…

So this is how it feels to be held at gunpoint. It's quite terrifying, yet at the same time, almost unbelievable. Things like this only occurs in movies, me sitting in the audience with fresh popcorn in my hands. Now, I'm on the other side, and I hope, I won't be going to the other side anytime soon. Getting shot in the head was, frankly, a tad more heart-stopping.

Seeing the Villain now, I'm correct: a middle school boy wearing a gakuran and a gas mask inspired by World War One or some other historic event. He has a revolver, his right hand firmly on the grip. I've heard they can have either six or eight in the cylinder… He must have reloaded once and we didn't notice.

I raise my hands.

He scoffs. "Do you think I'm going to take your surrender? Nah, I want to hear you beg for your life."

I hold my breath.

"…Right, you can't. l'd ask if you have any last words, but we can never have nice things, can we?"

Hastily, I point my fingers up.

"Eh? What the hell—?!"

—-WHAM!

From above, Hiryu comes down. His knee contacts directly onto the boy's head, a crack echoing off of the trees. Gifted with the force of gravity dragging him down, they fall together, the Villain's skull slamming into the hard ground first before the rest of his body acts as a cushion for my friend.

Completely, the Villain is rendered unconscious, his mask cracked open, including his red lenses, revealing parts of his youthful visage underneath. What's more important is…

WHISSSSS…!

...The gas. It's dissipating. Without control from their executive, this foul thing can't last worthwhile. As if a massive, invisible vacuum sucked the Villain's Quirk into irrelevancy, the atmosphere returns to normal—ignore the burning fumes though, this is as "normal" as we can get.

Glee washes over my shoulders. I open my mouth to take a boastful breath in, tearing off my torn and busted mask and tossing it aside. I ought to scold myself for littering, but I'm taking in the joy of life. No longer do I have to deal with the gas stinging my open wounds.

Hiryu does the same. He takes off his masks and checks on his forearms, pulling the bullets out.

"I wanted to use Telepath, you know," I say, nudging the Villain's unconscious body with my foot. "Everything happened so fast that I didn't get a chance to."

Hiryu chuckles before he winces, his finger brushing over the visible holes in his flesh. "I was planning to intercept him before he reached the tree, but I underestimated his speed."

"Almost gave me a heart attack with your stunt." I lean down and take the boy's revolver from him. I have zero training with firearms, but I do know this: Do not put a single finger on the trigger. I push the cylinder out. It's an eight-shot revolver with two live rounds remaining. I invert the gun, letting all eight cartridges slide into my hand. I pick out the two useful ones and let the remaining drop.

I pocket both bullets and the revolver into my jacket.

Hiryu blinks. "...Speaking of heart attacks."

"Just in case." I pat where the firearm is. "Sometimes, we need out-of-the-box thinking. That's what you did, so don't judge me for acting in kind."

Hiryu's idea, thinking back in hindsight, is genius. The tree obstructed the airflow so the Villain wouldn't be able to foil his plan; thus, allowing him to scale the length, ample for an unexpected takedown. I envy his mobility. I don't envy the look he's giving me. "Right… Let's head back, Neito. I'll carry the Villain."

He hoists the boy onto his shoulder, and we head back from whence we came.

"I wonder how a child like him got roped into this scheme," I comment, motioning towards the adolescent.

"I'd rather not think about it. He was fully prepared to kill us. Maybe he had a troubled upbringing, but it's hard to ignore the gunfire."

"I guess. His circumstances make a man think."

"I won't argue against that. Anyway, you copied Telepath, right? Did Mandalay contact you yet?"

I shake my head. "Not yet. As we speak, they're capitalizing on the opportunity we gave them."

"Alright…" Hiryu lowers his head, troubled. I know what's on his mind.

"...He's alive," I attest, a slight waver in my voice. "He'll be the brightest Hero in our generation. His story can't end here. I used Search, and he was one of the ones I've found. That boy was lying through his teeth."

"Something doesn't feel right, Neito. Why would he point him out specifically? Why him?"

"Sanji's one of the most notable students in the public eye, we both know that. He used his name to get a rise out of us regardless of whoever class we belonged to."

"But as you said: the boy's age is his largest shortcoming. He brags, and prideful people like him don't lie about their accomplishments. They embellish them. They exaggerate."

I frown. "It's obvious that the Villains have wireless communication, so whoever's on the other side has a bigger head than they think."

"So a Villain is with Sanji right now."

"..."

"Neito, you saw him with Search, didn't you?"

"I told you already, yes. He's alive."

"Who else was with him?"

"..."

"Could you use Telepath? It doesn't work on anyone unconscious, you're aware of that."

"..."

"Neito."

Hiryu glares at me for an answer. As vile as I am, I refuse to give him verbal poison. My silence leaves horrid implications, and so does the confirmation of his worries. Ever since I activated both Search and Telepath, I knew. I held back from informing the others precisely because of how cherished he is.

I apologize for my refusal, Hiryu, but you must understand.

I suppose I need to apologize to Itsuka after the attack is over. I understand her position clearly now. How short-sighted I was…

"Monoma, do you copy?" a voice rings in my head. I raise a finger and tap my temple, signaling to Hiryu that Mandalay's calling. He glowers, unsatisfied and disturbed. No other choice other than accept my non-answer, he surrenders his gaze to the winding forest. At least the fire can tell him that the situation is dire, and his bleeding utter the possibility of death, but not even me, his friend, is willing to tell him of the reality a woods away.

I clear my throat. Useless act, absolutely silly actually, considering I'm using my thoughts to communicate. Odd behaviors like that makes this comedic. Ironically comedic, I'd hope. Not pathetically hilarious where I couldn't laugh along with the rest. Nevertheless, I need to answer: "...I copy, pun not intended. We apprehended the Villain as promised."

"Good. We managed to take care of things on our end—being able to see clearly made it simple. The Villains we encountered were clones just like Mr. Compress, and due to the fire-user, err, you can smell what's going on."

"Are you planning to relocate then?"

"..." Mandalay halts. "...Yes. We have a lot of injured. Thankfully, Tiger and I know this forest like the back of our hands, so we'll move to another clearing. Meet up with us there so we can reassess our surroundings."

"Yes ma'am. I—"

"—And Monoma, do not seek out your classmates."

I sullen. "I know. I'm the most useful student at the moment. If anything were to happen to me, tragedy is certain."

"I wish it didn't have to come down to this, but you're right. It appears that us Heroes have to rely on you."

"Normally, I'd be proud. I would love nothing more than becoming a reliable figure for those twice my age. But this reeks of desperation. My nose scrunches up at the odor. We have no other options though, that's the worst part."

"Mhm… I don't know what to say, but please, make it back to us safe and sound. You and Rin. We'll be waiting. Mandalay, out."

"Roger."

"Hiryu, they're moving to a new location. Away from the fire. I'll be using Search every now and then to track their position, so keep us safe. I'm counting on you."

He nods. I sense a faint hostility in him.

What can I do, I suppose?

We walk.

---

Meeting Point - 7:30PM

Hiryu and I arrived at the meeting point. We were greeted by Eraserhead guarding the treeline, who almost mistook us as Villains. We squeaked past towards the center of the clearing. Various logs of varying sizes act as stations. Our classmates and schoolmates loiter, either laying against the logs, sitting on top, or generally near them. Right at the center of the collection is a small, controlled fire surrounded by a small ring of rocks.

The Heroes collected whatever medical supplies they could from Edgeshot's mobile research center and whatever bandages Yaoyorozu could create—much to her exhaustion after being the sole individual to keep all of us conscious. Ragdoll and Pixie-Bob lay near the northernmost log, closest to the fire. When we came, Mandalay and Tiger were giving them the necessary treatment.

They were the only Heroes receiving it. They prioritized us students over themselves, which made sense if it wasn't for my anxiety over their wounds sustained. Every Hero has some sort of injury that'll worsen faster than they'd anticipate. It'll be detrimental for any combat in the future, which is guaranteed. Regardless, as I said, that's in the future, so we need to decide what exactly the future will hold. Hiryu handed the Villain to Vlad King—he was very much shocked seeing the gakuran as everyone else who saw him.

From Mandalay, she informed me our current roster. While I do possess Search, it's best to pool our information to have a mutual understanding.

Class 1-A is missing: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Tenya Iida, Eijiro Kirishima, and Tokoyami Fumikage—ironically enough, not a single girl; it's not relevant, but it's funny to note.

As for the unconscious, who inhaled the gas, they are: Yuga Aoyama, Rikido Sato, Toru Hagakure, Minoru Mineta, and Koji Koda. I don't know them that well, though I'm envious that they can sleep while we fight for them.

Class 1-B is missing: Sanji Inochi, Itsuka Kendo, Togaru Kamakiri, and Yosetsu Awase—at least we have one girl missing; we practice gender equality in this class unlike them.

The unconscious are: Shihai Kuroiro, Jurota Shishida, Pony Tsunotori, Juzo Honenuki, and Kosei Tsuburaba. Funnily enough, Kosei uses his throat and lungs for his Quirk, now he's sound asleep.

Now, we have the other groups. Edgeshot is missing, the mysterious Doctor Shirabe and her daughter, Sage, are missing alongside their Commission fellow. Ragdoll and Pixie-Bob… I don't need to restate their condition.

Lastly, we have the injured. Yes, a majority of us are alive and well, being able to see and comprehend the current situation, but not all can fight. The Heroes took note of our wounds and dictated who can fight and who cannot.

This is the list: Momo Yaoyorozu (no visible injuries, but intensive exhaustion), Mina Ashido, Denki Kaminari (still in his "idiot mode"), Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Manga Fukidashi, Kojiro Bondo, Reiko Yanagi. Add Kota Izumi for obvious reasons.

In total: Thirteen are missing, ten are unconscious, twelve are rendered non-combatants (including Kota).

Let's put this in perspective: of the forty-one combined students of 1-A and 1-B, ten are absent and thirteen are rendered idle. That leaves twelve.

Twelve: Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Mashirao Ojiro, Sen Kaibara, Yui Kodai, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda, Setsuna Tokage, Hiryu Rin, and myself.

Twelve. The gods rolled the dice and this is what we're left with.

Twelve students with four Heroes. Most of us, except for a lucky few, sustained injuries. Some of them are more serious than others, take my right arm to a small scratch on Ibara's cheek—I'm not bitter, but rather making a point. We established that we must find the others and fetch them, lest we want the League to brandish their daggers.

Twelve students. Some of us must stay here and protect the others, or we'll have a repeat of what happened just ten minutes earlier. We trusted that Sage contacted the Commission and reinforcements are coming as we speak, yet we cannot trust that they'll arrive in time. We have to fend off the Vanguard Action Squad ourselves.

So, we must plan. All of us.

"Monoma," Mandalay calls to me. On the ground, she has a wrinkled and dirty map of the entire forest. She marks our location with a massive red dot, then offers me the marker. Surrounding us are the designated fighters, added with a few of the non-combatants to provide second opinions if necessary. "Have your thoughts together?"

"I do." I take the marker. "Let's begin. I don't need to go into lengths about the, well, calamity we're in, but it'll be best to remain on the same page. The Vanguard Action Squad belonging to the League of Villains somehow found out about our little excursion and launched an attack akin to the U.S.J. Incident. Some of us were separated in the chaos, and now here we are."

Mentioning the U.S.J. Incident leaves the 1-A students uncomfortably squirming in their places. They met with Tomura Shigaraki himself, tasting the first dish of villainy before 1-B ever did. Eraserhead, in particular, rubs the scar he obtained, just above his eyebrow.

Mezo Shoji, the student with the Lovecraftian Dupli-Arms, tugs at his mask, slipping his fingers inside to wipe off any dirt or particulates irritating him. I see how. His upper lips become exposed a moment or two, and I witness a piece of his insecurity. I empathize. I may be a rugrat, but I wouldn't stoop so low to discriminate.

"How did they find out?" he asks, noticing my stare and meekly turning his head to the side. "I thought this was supposed to be top-secret."

"Supposed to be," answers Tiger in his commanding, rumbling voice, eyes lit with ferality. "What good will come out of meaningless theorizing? We can argue all night, but we won't last that long with mindless chatter. Go on, Monoma."

"Yessir." I mark a dot east of the mobile research center. "Fortunately for us, most of the missing are together. At least, were together. Everyone absent, except for Sanji and Itsuka, are within this area. There are numerous unknowns present. Whether or not they're clones… That mystery will be solved once you're there."

"…The Villains have their work cut out for them," Setsuna comments, alluding to the drama before. "Togaru and Yosetsu are with the 1-A boys. They'll give them more of a fight than the actual bad guys, that's for sure. Wouldn't doubt that they would split up honestly."

"But it makes sense for them to work together to defend themselves, right?" Nirengeki appeals, but his naivete is, well, hopeful. We would love for that to happen, but this is a gang of boys, some of them incredibly impulsive.

Eraserhead shares the same sentiment, having experienced the reality while also wanting for the best. "Bakugo is in that group. He carries a large enough presence that whatever he says or does, goes. So, I'll volunteer to lead. Any other Hero, it's likely that my boys wouldn't listen."

"Bakugo," corrects Sen. "You mean Bakugo. He wouldn't listen."

Eraserhead fires daggers into Sen, displeased with the blatant attitude—evident that he holds a grudge against that rowdy boy even in this quagmire of severity—and at the same time, frustrated that he's completely correct. Our rivaling teacher has enough pride to not answer, instead silent to maintain face.

Vlad King notices the tension between the two, loudly clicking his tongue and cracking his neck. He snarks, "Don't terrorize my kids too much, Eraserhead. They're impulsive brats, but they're not evil, not like these guys. They'll listen to you."

"They should," aloofly replies Eraserhead.

Mandalay gestures for me to continue. Amazing, I do not want to touch the sore spots myself, so thank goodness I have an out.

"Moving on..." I mark a location south of the mobile research center. "…I've never met Edgeshot, Kei and Chie Shirabe in person. Search, the Quirk, requires some sort of condition to reveal their names, and I suspect that's it. Thus, I can't distinguish them from the Villains. They're all unknowns.

"But I do know where Sanji and Itsuka are."

"There's a 'but' coming in, isn't there?" Kinoko says, quaking in her shoes. Like Ibara, there isn't much of a scratch on her. Physically, at least. Mentally, she's shaken. I applaud her strength to continue.

But, there is a 'but'. I frown, pushing the end of the marker against my lips, and faintly, I taste the chemicals on my tongue—or it's my blood, both are possible. "There's a good number of unknowns here as well. It's likely that Edgeshot and Doctor Shirabe are present, but as far as I'm concerned, I'd say this location is more dangerous."

"It sounds like the eastern, err, fight or however you want to call it," Ojiro assumes, nervously scratching his cheek, his tail flat and deflated. "What makes it more dangerous?"

Hiryu. I look at Hiryu.

He cocks his eyes over to the Villain. He's tied to a thick tree with a thicker rope around him—thank you Yaoyorozu. His neck is slumped down, blood-drenched droplets of saliva escaping his cracked and bare lips. We attempted to use his communication device earlier only to add it to our pile of failed ideas. Hiryu broke it.

Releasing the air he's stored within his lungs, he gathers himself. "He said Sanji is 'dead'. It's not true. Neito can still find him using Search—it doesn't work on the deceased—but if we assume the worst."

An uneasy silence flickers through us, as transient as the small fire at the center of our huddle, surrounded by small rocks the size of my palm. The yearning to scream into the flames arises, breathing the vengeful air to grow the heat, but we'd find ourselves screaming not for retribution, rather our own pain. We've broken through confusion to meet despair and uncertainty, and most of all, ignorance.

We must work together. The Heroes cannot combat this alone. We can take initiative but our range of actions are limited, so are our confidence and capability. Knowing the implications however, Sanji's attacker is present, heartless enough to attempt to end his life, and we have too much heart that we may not be able to handle his state when we come across him.

It's difficult to smile. Heroism is the act of smiling to save a soul. We cannot smile to save our own souls.

"...How are we deciding the teams?" Uraraka, the chubby-cheeked girl, asks. I recognize the ambition in her gaze. It's similar to Bakugo and Midoriya.

Asui adds on, "I want to be in the eastern group, kero."

"..." Ibara's posture shifts. Following the tonal shift from the brooding, depressing atmosphere before to a determined, feisty ambiance demonstrated by the two ladies, our religious heart has its beat matching their rhythm. "They ought to perish where they stand. 'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.'"

"A quote?" Sen inquires.

"Matthew 5:9, to inspire our hearts."

Some here are off-put by the sudden Christian themes, given that, obviously, Japan isn't such a country, but the gesture is more than appreciated—in my perspective, at least. I catch the Heroes surveying the active fighters. I can practically see the computers inside their mind hastily processing away, coming up with the split between the southern and the eastern conflict. I—

"—I want to be in the southern theater," says a voice, a soft-spoken girl—Yui. Interrupted my thoughts, did she? Naughty one, more naughty than I am. Take her expression, perhaps, and see something so rare that you can only call it a blood diamond—a diamond from its commodity and blood from its circumstances. For the entire time I knew Yui Kodai, she doesn't remark emotion like the rest of us, a "kuudere" if you enjoy manga like Manga. Not a twitch of facial muscles to the point where you'd think they're weak.

And as before, there's barely a twitch, and yet, something is inside. Something is brewing in the chest of the unstirred. Rage. A dabble of perturbed anticipation. Yearning for confirmation. I'm impressed at how easily I can recognize these complex emotion in small, indescribable signs; or, take my 'impressed' and trade it for 'amazement' at how easily readable Yui is, broadcasting herself on her sleeve.

Only those privy to Yui's company are aware that no one can budge her, Vlad King included. He raises his head to acknowledge her words, then shuts his eyes as his consent.

Mandalay sighs, rubbing her head. "Let's remind ourselves that we have three groups to make, not two. Some of us have to stay here and protect the others. Two groups will have one Hero while the last will have two, and I think it should be the one staying put."

"Right… Twelve students, four Heroes…" Eraserhead thinks out loud. "...I have a proposal."

---

7:35PM

Casualties: Sanji Inochi, Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Yuga Aoyama, Rikido Sato, Toru Hagakure, Minoru Mineta, Koji Koda, Shihai Kuroiro, Jurota Shishida, Pony Tsunotori, Juzo Honenuki, Kosei Tsuburaba

Injured/Non-Combatants: Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Manga Fukidashi, Kojiro Bondo, Reiko Yanagi, Kota Izumi, Mustard

Status Unknown: Itsuka Kendo, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Tenya Iida, Fumikage Tokoyami, Togaru Kamakiri, Yosetsu Awase, Edgeshot, Kei Shirabe, Dabi, Toga Himiko, Spinner, Magne, Mr. Compress, Twice, Muscular, Moonfish, Chainsaw Nomu

Active: Vlad King, Eraserhead, Mandalay, Tiger, Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Mashirao Ojiro, Sen Kaibara, Yui Kodai, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda, Setsuna Tokage, Neito Monoma, Hiryu Rin, Chie Shirabe, Incognito

Location Unknown: Edgeshot, Kei Shirabe, Chie Shirabe, 100 Genkei Mushas

South of the Mobile Research Center: Incognito, Sanji Inochi, Itsuka Kendo, ?

Interception Party: Vlad King, Setsuna Tokage, Yui Kodai, Mashirao Ojiro

East of the Mobile Research Center: Izuku Midoriya, Tenya Iida, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Fumikage Tokoyami, Togaru Kamakiri, Yosetsu Awase

Interception Party: Eraserhead, Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Sen Kaibara

Clearing with Fallen Logs: Vlad King, Eraserhead, Mandalay, Tiger, Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Mashirao Ojiro, Sen Kaibara, Yui Kodai, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda, Setsuna Tokage, Neito Monoma, Hiryu Rin, Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Manga Fukidashi, Kojiro Bondo, Reiko Yanagi, Kota Izumi, Mustard

Defending Party: Mandalay, Tiger, Neito Monoma, Hiryu Rin, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda

---

Before the Vanguard Action Squad Invasion - 7:10PM

"...Everything that happened tonight is your fault, Edgeshot."

"I wonder, can we afford to be cordial to one another? Every conversation we have is incessant arguing."

"If you afford a sense of ethical and moral values, then perhaps I'll mind my manners around you."

"Please do." Edgeshot turns to Kei Shirabe, standing orderly, properly postured with no stone unturned, obedience programmed within his muscles. "Are you happy that you have the truth, very well aware that you had it all along and refused to acknowledge it?"

"Don't you twist this on me. How could you leave a sixteen-year-old boy in the middle of a forest, which is the size of a small country—" Kei stretches her arms to the fullest in order to emphasize her point, "—and decide, 'Find your way back or die trying'."

"It was quite easy." He raises his hand, straight at that. "I rendered him unconscious by striking the back of his neck and—"

"—You psychopath."

"...A joke." Edgeshot's hand drops. Not in the chopping motion as he did with Sanji, but rather with resignation. "I did what Hawks does best: joking in the most morbid of cases. Black comedy is his forte."

"..." Kei stares wide-eyed at the maniac, arms falling, patting her sides in a thumpf. Her comprehension churns inside her typical mind, which has time and time again, struggled to understand the psychopathy to no avail. She isn't a psychologist, but she likes to believe that she can discern something from the human mind and its capacity. Time and time again, she's led to believe she struck the depth of earthly capability only to strike the most wretched of gold, caving in to find a multitude of levels deeper. Her sense of gravity is diminished as quite possibly… Quite possibly that ambition, concluding that it never had a ceiling to restrict it, could similarly hold no floor where its means to achieve the ends will fall through, tumbling endlessly as she did when she first stepped into the President's office.

Edgeshot's head tilts to the side, then lowers, crosses his arms and let his right index finger tap against his forearm. Tap once, and Kei hasn't spoken. Tap twice, she fixes her posture in a hopeless attempt to spur hapless intimidation into the experienced Hero. Tap thrice, she's further frustrated and appalled.

"Do you have somewhere to be, Edgeshot?" Kei asks, shaking her head while he taps his arm. "You're tapping like you're waiting for me to dismiss you."

"Well, I'm currently in the possession of Japan's greatest hopes until I was pulled away by a metaologist whose value is tied to her child and her child only, inherently worthless herself."

"It's like a pot calling the kettle black." Kei laughs.

"I understand that I'm not proficient in black comedy, Doctor Shirabe, but that was not an example."

She lets out a "Ha" and leans heavily onto her right leg. "What?"

"Black comedy," Edgeshot begins, thinking Kei would understand but doesn't. "I'm under the assumption that I'm the pot calling whoever the kettle is 'black', which is an idiom, a practice of word choice often used for comedic purposes. You took the meaning literally—"

"—You anti-social idiot, that's not what I'm saying at all!" she exclaims, takes a step back, and shoves her hands into her labcoat's pockets, formerly white at the beginning but now possessing grey and brown spots.

"This is exactly the reason why I find laboring with Hawks difficult. He does not state his meanings directly, leaving me scrambling for interpretations that are often incorrect."

"That doesn't sound like my problem, Edgeshot. But do you know what my problem is?"

"Yes, very much, but I'll let you speak."

"..." Kei's shoulders drop in a show of annoyance.

"I'm affording you cordiality."

She ignores him. "You risked Inochi's life. He could've died. He seriously could've died. Overexhaustion, malnutrition, the longest list of injuries and inflictions in existence. Then, you're grooming Midoriya, showing blatant favoritism. You don't believe that you have 'Japan's greatest hopes'. You have 'Japan's greatest hope'. Singular. One hope."

"Is that a problem?" rhetorically asks Edgeshot, unchanging in his stance. "Deku is more heroic than Armory as it stands."

"So instead of trying to raise both of their stations…" leads Kei, "...you kick one down and elevate the other. You don't care about Japan—"

"—Do not say that." And yet, those words change Edgeshot right there. He unfolds his arms, his height growing a few inches to tower the already vertically-inferior doctor, who instinctively shrinks, yet not cowers.

Kei isn't able to maintain eye contact, alternatively using the grass in place of Edgeshot's, but she continues: "If you truly loved Japan, you'd raise both of them to higher levels. Instead, you fixated on All Might's boy and condemned the other—whose ancestor is probably watching in horror as we speak."

"His ancestor should be ashamed for the bloodline he begun," retorts Edgeshot. "Armory is a burden—"

"—and Deku is your gift given by not God, but All Might. Inochi isn't a gift, isn't a hope either. He's a threat. He challenges you and your authority that you became addicted to."

"He places no trust in today's institutions, rather relying on his foolish and immature peers as adequate replacements when they're anything but."

"While Deku trusts one and doesn't rely on the other. He's simply your tool to keep yourself in power, Edgeshot. You're fully aware of it—"

"—And you!" He raises a finger, centimeters away from Kei's face, fast enough to pierce an eye faster than she can comprehend. "You are aware that insulting my status has its consequences! And insulting my philosophy, the ideals that embody me! You're insulting my existence—"

"—You're insulting heroism." Kei backs away, knowing the danger of his anger. "You want power like All For One, but you're worse: you refuse to admit it."

"Silence."

"Inochi... When he realizes what kind of a man you are, he will find the need to put you on your knees. When he's able, he'll find the nearest sledgehammer and break the foundations of anything you built."

"Be quiet!"

"When you envision the word 'power' and look into that place, you'll find him staring right back at you—!"

—Edgeshot strikes Kei across the cheek. He doesn't hold back his strength, drawing blood immediately. Out of everyone in his party, barring Sage, only he is uninjured. Kei's busted lips, it proves to incite her anger more than it'd pacify her.

Kei wipes the blood, seeing a small layer building on the pad of her thumb, and cocks a glare towards her superior. "Are you satisfied?"

He strikes her again. In a show of defiance, like the boy who continued to oppose the authoritarian and his Machiavellian dogma, she insisted on her glare. Though she was a feeble scientist forced into servitude, Edgeshot can recognize the boy's rebelliousness in her. His presence is spreading.

"You're aware that showing your face back at camp will be disastrous, don't you?" reminds Kei, both knowing full well of the situation. Sage alerted her and Edgeshot. Mandalay could have used Telepath to contact the latter Hero, but it seems that even she, the mature lady of the Pussycats, hold a grudge.

"..." Edgeshot releases his tension he had before, evident by his careful, methodical breathing. "U.A. will suffer a punishment for the mismanagement of their students."

Kei uses her sleeve to clean the visible blood off her lips. "The Commission might fall under if they strike with a heavy enough hand. Heavier than the one you assaulted me with."

"We will never crumble, unlike the withering youth proctoring irresponsibility as virtue. They have no standards or moral principles."

"Yours are oh-so superior, aren't they?" accepts Kei. The moral arrogance truly is frightening, every word and action would make any normal person quake. "You're right about one thing: we can never have a normal conversation with each other."

"So be it. I hope—!"

—THUD!

Behind the two, something drops from the bushes. They turn their attention to the mysterious object, a ball-shaped one. Well, upon further attention, it's not shaped as a ball but as a skinny, almost malnourished head. Edgeshot extends a finger, activating his Quirk, Foldabody, and faster than the speed of sound, pierces it with his flatten appendage.

Kei's silent, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on attention. There's a subtle uneasiness after the argument was interrupted, not born from their animosity but from an outside force. She watches Edgeshot recall his finger, bringing the object to them. It's a head of a Genkei Musha. Its neck looks to be sliced cleanly, every wire severed—a work of a professional.

"..."

"..."

Edgeshot drops the head and takes his phone out. Kei ganders at his screen—noticing the default wallpaper, serves to prove her point about him being anti-social—and sees that he doesn't have a signal. She looks at her own phone, affirming the same.

Without a word, Kei reaches into her hip and unholsters an Arakan .45 semi-automatic pistol—manufactured by a firearms company of the same name, based in the Aichi Prefecture in Japan—issued to mainly special forces within the Japanese military for its accuracy and recoil mitigation. The only attachment Kei uses is an extended magazine, increasing the capacity to twenty-four rounds from twelve—chambered in .45 ACP, of course.

Seeing the firearm, Edgeshot tilts his head. Kei neglected to mention that she brought a weapon with her. He hisses, "Why do you have a gun?"

She responds, "Do I want to leave myself at the mercy of some Villain? Or worse, you? No. No, I do not."

Edgeshot hesitates. "...What are the four rules of gun safety?"

"Treat every firearm as if it's loaded, never aim the barrel at anything you're not willing to destroy, keep your finger off the trigger until ready to fire, and know your target and what lies beyond it. I did my training."

"Fine. Let's make haste. Behind me, and please, do not shoot me in the back." Edgeshot turns towards the direction of their base.

"Don't tempt me." Kei follows suit, holding her pistol down and to the side, ensuring that the barrel isn't aiming towards Edgeshot—although she's more than willing to break rule number two—and not towards her feet.

They push through the forest for a few minutes. They're certain that suspicious individuals are present; however, they're uncertain of who they are and how they came to the information pertaining to U.A.'s secret training camp. The latter is irrelevant, settled at a later time when the threats are dealt with.

Their priority is the students, although they may argue about them every single time they interact. They agree on this: their safety comes above all.

Yet after that few minutes of careful trekking, they stop. They can smell it: the aroma of charred, scorched wood—fire. It's faint, yet so outstanding that it's obvious, unable for anyone to miss it. There's an arsonist about. The current state of the forest is perfect for a fire. Everything is dry, and there's more than enough fuel to sustain the flames, let it spread from grassblade to grassblade like torches in a mob. Without intervention, this entire forest can and will burn to ash.

Kei and Edgeshot check their phones again in unison, comically enough. No signal, and this instance, they take careful note of the time—7:16 PM, nearing 7:17.

An invisible clock hangs over their heads.

Kei's first to put her phone away and look ahead. She's about to usher her associate over, stops, catching the abnormal violet tint at her peripheral. "Edgeshot, there's gas."

His head snaps up, seeing the wisps of the toxins as she does. It hasn't reached them, but it would only take less than a minute to swallow them whole. It's spreading inwards too, exactly where their destination lies. If they continue, then they'd fall under its influence before they reach the others.

Essentially, they're cut off, a barrier blocking their path.

"Does Foldabody make you immune to the gas?" asks Kei.

Edgeshot shakes his head. "I'm not certain. I've never considered the possibility before. Typically, any and all Villains collapse before they can think. How severe do you believe the gas is?"

"It has harmful effects, that's guaranteed. At best: it stings and nothing more. At worst: you'll die after inhaling a single whiff or it melts your flesh. In my opinion, it most likely leans on the less-damaging end of the spectrum, but I wouldn't take my chances. If I'm incorrect, it'd mean our lives."

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "We can either retreat and reconsider our options, but risking the lives of everyone to the gas, or attempt to push through."

"Risking ourselves, and if we die, we're of no use to anyone."

Edgeshot turns around. "I suppose we have no choice than to accept the former. Come, with any luck, we can find the Villain who caused this."

They withdraw to the opposite direction, traveling further from the camp. It's a difficult, but logical decision. Though, perhaps they should have risk their bodies to venture inside, assuming Kei's preposition about is severity. In the same thought, retreating would force them to assume exactly that, praying for the students to handle the gas appropriately.

It's a decision where the worst outcome would be the deaths of everyone involved, in the end. They chose a path that guaranteed more agency. While walking that road, traveling through the darkness of nature with hidden threats all around, knowing that U.A. must have encountered the Villains by this point, the clock strikes 7:20 PM.

And in the distance, they hear voices. Specifically, only Edgeshot hears it. His head lurches to his right, raises his hand, and closes his fist, quickening his pace. Kei doesn't know what he found; she wants to pry for details, but it'd risk exposing their position. Thus, she has to do the one thing that she abhors: trusting Edgeshot.

Her reservation is proven true: it's her mistake.

---

Kei Shirabe falls through the false floor that she established for her mental profile of Edgeshot's psychology. She thought she learned from her mistakes, to never underestimate his cruelty. She's wrong. A twisted man like him operates under a different capacity, and she, born with normality, innately believes that there can be an end to mortal desires. A Villain's greed can be sated by an ocean of gold, a Villain's lust can be satisfied by drowning in bodies of women, or a Villain's wrath can be extinguished by the blood of their enemies. Incorrect. Those desires are superficial.

Edgeshot holds no sin but ultimate virtue. He holds no vice, for all he has are probities.

Acquitted by the grand jury of his own self, he can thus exercise his privilege against the wills of other precisely because he knows better. He tortures others for their own good, for their own wants, their needs, their dreams or goals. They're extraneous to the true objective. He acts, motivated by his love for Japan, preserving his beloved although he will never receive gratitude for his deeds.

A righteous tyrant who uses his power to stifle the autonomy of others will do so without rest—there is never a line dividing morality, rather a pit and how far you are willing to fall.

CRACK—THUMP!

A bullet strikes the left side of Sanji Inochi's head, ricocheting off and striking a tree. His desperate attempt to crawl back has ended, shown by his veinous, raw as red flesh exposing his white skull, and his motionless body, still eyes collapsing to the sky.

The bullet itself is both invisible and silent upon the initial fire, thereafter registering in reality when exiting the barrel. The gunshot is unheard, but how the air split apart from its trajectory rings in Kei's ears, and how it strikes the head in an unnatural sound. The entire event is abnormal, the sign of a Quirk.

Kei Shirabe struggles against Edgeshot, both hidden a distance away behind a swarm of dense trees and shrubbery. Disarmed from the moment he wanted to remain as a witness, he forces a hand over her mouth to keep her silent, pushing her against the nearest tree with her hands around her back.

He would've rendered her unconscious if he didn't think she'd be useful for the rest of the invasion. It would've be pitifully easy to do so, simply knocking her head with a gentle strike would prevent her from fighting back. No, Edgeshot needs her, and so they'll have to watch. She has to watch, helpless.

Sanji, in his dwindling strength, raises his arm to the air.

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!

And finds four more bullets ripping through his chest, the only audible sound is metal hitting flesh. His arm drops. Kei screams at the sight, muffled only by Edgeshot's hand. A teenage boy, just a few years younger than Sage, is shot almost-dead by the assassin. His U.A. gym uniform, clothes that any kid his age would be proud to wear, is unrecognizable with the blood spreading from his wounds, and the pool forming underneath him. His gray eyes glaze over, losing the color in his pupils. His hair, which became ruined after the days of nonstop training, becomes irreversibly drowned in red.

Kei pushes against Edgeshot, awkwardly kicking her heels into his shins. He lets her, treating the good doctor like a naughty juvenile acting out against their parent in vain. In futility, she screams further, hearing the echoes of the suppressed gunshots in her ears. She's deep in her irrationality, as if her own child is dying, bleeding out, right before her eyes. She bites Edgeshot, digging her teeth into his unarmored hand.

He doesn't react. Like a juvenile acting out…

Sanji Inochi continues to lay there, motionless. There is whimpers of life still in him. Despite the bleeding in his thigh, despite the bullet to the skull, despite the four shots ringing inside his chest, there's still a sign of life within him. There's a will to live. He pushed through Edgeshot's gauntlet, and meeting the invisible assassin, he pushed against his aggressor.

Perhaps this is fated, dying after using all of his breaths to live. But how could he die? Although he may hated Kei, resented her for being complicit in his trauma, her daughter, Sage—Chie—is innocent. He's the only one who can bring her outside. Not her own mother, who's troubled whenever she hugs her child, being the sole reason why she's in chains. Rather, the one boy who shares a similar experience, wanting to do anything but the status quo that harmed them all.

Perhaps Izuku Midoriya can change Japan for the better, but that's yet to be determined. He can save Japan. Change it? Influence it? Who knows. As the next incarnation of All Might, with his hands, he can carry his country's diorama above the waves that would wash away the old earth. Yet, nothing states that the diorama can simply collapse and shatter in itself from how unstable it is.

"Ah—" The hand muffling Kei tightens, suffocating her. Her eyes dim. Perhaps trying to change the course of life is useless. How many times has she tried to escape the Commission? Thoughts of rebellion, trying to be the heroine who will take her daughter and flee to another country? Maybe revealing all of the Commission's sins while she's at it? Impossible. There's no Kei Shirabe or the Commission—they're one and the same.

Their sins are her sins. She's responsible for every act they committed. Every mission carried out by Nagant, Edgeshot, Hawks, any Hero they could get their hands on… The "projects" like her daughter…

She may leave the Commission, but they will never leave her. Knowing everything they have done, a normal woman like her can't do anything but remain in stasis. The weight of hundreds, thousands of lives, on a simple, college-educated metaologist as her, it's the burden of Heroes, not a civilian.

Would Sanji Inochi be one more body added to the pile?

Edgeshot knocks Kei's head against the trunk of the tree.

Would he die like the rest of them?

One more gunshot will end Sanji's life.

Would another spark of youth be smothered?

No. Kei clenched her teeth. Something has to change.

Leveraged against a tree, the shifting of weight isn't in her favor. Her arms are immobile, and biting is shown to be useless. The next best thing, Kei figures, is to put her feet near the base of the tree. If Edgeshot's pushing against her, then—

—PUSH!

By swiftly planting her feet against the trunk, she's able to kick herself off and away, reversing the weight load to make Edgeshot accountable. Not even he can maintain balance with the weight of a fully-grown woman. They tumble together to the ground.

Kei spots her fallen pistol and sweeps it up. Scrambling, she rolls over and braces herself on a single knee. The Villain must be standing over Sanji Inochi. She raises her arms, grips the carbon fiber handle with both hands, and curls her finger over the trigger. Sucking in her breath, she fires.

POP!

Dirt. She doesn't have a clue where the Villain is. They're invisible, including the suppressed weapon they used. Unlike it though, hers isn't suppressed, making the sound of her gunshot ring across the forest, being heard for acres of woods. She may have missed, however, it proves to send a message.

Especially to…

"Incognito!" shouts Kei, revealing his identity. She senses Edgeshot's anger behind her, but what's done is done. "Why did All For One order you here?! I didn't think his greatest lackey would show himself here of all places!"

"..." A few low-hanging branches are pushed apart by an invisible entity, like a vengeful spirit passing through the secluded forest searching for victims. First, the branches, ushered away and snapped into two, then the grass where firm, solid indentations showcase a firm boot, and finally, passing behind a tree, reveals the Villain in question: a man wearing a mask shaped like paper, contrasted by his completely black outfit.

Incognito—arguably All For One's top assassin—emerges from his vacation. The Villain who stood on top of a body count in the hundreds, hunted by a myriad of Heroes, many of whom were either killed by him or gave up. Lady Nagant was the last who targeted him, and the only one who has gotten close to returning the favor. She's the reason behind his sudden disappearance. Awarded for her efforts was a scolding and a degradation for the mere fact that she wasn't able to kill him promptly.

In his right hand is his suppressed pistol, specially-made for him and him only, outfitted with various attachments and modifications. It's a terrifying thing, that's what it is. Kei grimaces, reading enough reports to know what Incognito can do with it. Within less than a second, he can empty his entire magazine into Kei and she wouldn't realize she died until after the fact. She's outmatched.

He clicks his tongue, looks down at the bleeding boy, then at the two with a shrug of his shoulder. "You know the answer. He has an Origin-type with an unidentifiable ancestor. So, it's reasonable to understand that he wants to exterminate any...unwanted variables."

"I suppose this confirms that Tomura Shigaraki is his underling, and so is the rest of the League of Villains." Edgeshot steps in front of Kei. Not to protect her, no, but to assume leadership. Kei curses him under her breath and stands on two feet. She has Incognito at gunpoint, but she's fully aware that he is in command of the situation.

Incognito tilts his head left-to-right, not exactly agreeing but not disagreeing either. "His relationship with Shigaraki is not like ours, but rather, like All Might and Izuku Midoriya. Whichever bloodline the boy belongs to, it'll come in the way."

Kei breathes out through her nose. Receiving new information from Incognito is beneficial to the war, but needless to say, Sanji is dying from blood loss. Every second is a second closer to death. She glances at Edgeshot to relay that message, but he doesn't look. Typical.

"He's laying claim to One For All, how characteristic," he replies. "I did not think All For One would be bold enough to make a move as big as this: revealing you, assassinating Armory. Is the alternative that unpreferable?"

"Is intercepting me unpreferable to watching him die?" Incognito retorts. "How long have you hid there, Edgeshot? I've done less to him than you have, and I'm the one holding the gun. You despise him more than my employer, that's for sure—if you so desire, ask Doctor Shirabe to hand you her weapon so you can shoot 'Sanji Inochi' yourself."

Edgeshot uncurls his body, leaving only his head whole and full. He levitates in the air by rotating his strings in a drill-like motion. "I don't need to justify my actions to you, Villain. If Armory awakens to his Quirk, then praise him! If he dies from his wounds, then good riddance!"

"Pfft. Go ahead and show me that you're not a Villain, Hero." Incognito holds his pistol to the sky. In an eyeblink, he's vanishes.

ZOOM!

THWIP THWIP!

Both men are formidable. Edgeshot folds his head. The fabric-like shape of his body transforms into straight, two-dimensional red lines. He moves like how a pencil sketches, cutting through the anxious air with multiple of his lines converging on Incognito's last known position. Almost expectedly, they pierce through nothing, recoiling twice at an unknown force—it must be a knife.

Kei sees some of the "fabric" or "material" of the lines damaged, severed from the whole. While on first glance, it looks innocent—after all, Incognito's not cutting at a physical body—but that's exactly it. Edgeshot's body remains. Foldabody undergoes physical changes and nothing more. If a sword comes down on a lengthy piece of string, then it'd result in amputation of a limb.

Kei doesn't know what strings represent what, but maintaining the idea that even having a few inches cut off, defeat is guaranteed. The most difficult part for Incognito is avoiding Edgeshot and his attacks; meanwhile, Edgeshot has to deal with an unseen foe, essentially striking blind each and every time.

That's a natural result of his Quirk: Incognito—the same as his Villain Name. Incognito is not the standard invisibility Quirk like Class 1-A's Toru Hagakure. Contrary to hers, his Quirk's primary effect lies on others, not himself. No one can see him because they're completely incapable of seeing him. Their perception, processed by their brains, are altered where they cannot register him. It tricks the eyes, unable to see him; it tricks the nose, unable to smell him; it tricks the ears, unable to hear him—including his gunshots and the sound of his knife.

In an automatic process, the mind replaces the empty space—where Incognito would be—with the natural world, inferencing what would logically be there. Whatever he says will be void. The smell of blood would disappear as if it never existed.

This is his Incognito Mode, a Transformation-type that renders him invisible. As he can affect the minds of others, then it must be a Mental-type as well. The only ones immune from his mind trickery—thus, can unconditionally see him—are those with other Mental-type Quirks as well, like that boy, Sanji Inochi.

His Incognito Mode applies to anything on his body and in his possession. If he picks up a rock, then that rock too is erased until he drops it. Throwing paint on him is useless for that reason: it'll be rendered invisible. This is why his bullets aren't seen and heard until after the moment they left the barrel, and why his knife follows the same principles.

Yet by the fact that Sanji was shot by nothing proves that there was something there. When the Commission was investigating a string of murders perpetrated by literal thin air, they concluded that a Villain had an invisibility Quirk of some type. No matter if Incognito erases the cause of an event, himself, the effect will always appear, exposing his location for just a brief moment. Whether it be brushing against a shrub or leaving a footprint on the grass, there are ways to find him.

He cannot physically erase his body from existence. He's still touchable. Though you may taste lead of a bullet or the cold steel of a knife, he is killable.

Kei is aware of this. Incognito affects the human brain, but it can never affect reality.

THWIP THWIP!

Edgeshot spasms, erratically twirls and spreads, covering as much ground as his each of his lengths allow. Though Kei has absolutely no idea where Incognito is, she can tell by Edgeshot's positioning where he could possibly be. There's an entire forest to cover, and like a tree's roots conquering the underground, he's claiming the air.

Folded strings, as thin as fishing lines, encircle a sizable parameter, then they seize the inner area, leaving zero room for a man to stand in. If he senses Incognito's presence or he eliminates enough of battlefield, then a handful of his threads intercept in hopes to skewer him. It's an elaborate way to search for the assassin, albeit simplistic. There's no time to come up with a ploy or a trick to discover his location, so the only solution is brute-force. It may be a knuckle-headed idea, but only Edgeshot can do it.

The process he commits to, systematically eliminating areas where Incognito cannot possibly be, then capitalizing on where he most likely is present through the use of environmental clues, increases his chances of victory. It's more than a guess, yet less than a certainty. What truly is astounding is not the method Edgeshot uses, but the speed and effectiveness. The search isn't limited to a two-dimensional plane, but three-dimensional. Replicate it across swaths of trees and bushes, severing branches and roots to ensure that Incognito isn't hunkered above in a large oak. Realize that the process occurs tens of times per second, often searching the same area over and over as the assassin is constantly on the move.

The largest risk for Edgeshot, as stated earlier, the risk of amputation. If Incognito executes a perfect slash, cutting a single string, then he would be severely injured.

The largest risk for Incognito is a single thread drilling through his flesh. That is the margin of error. A single mistake will cost them equally.

"Oh hell…" And Kei is about to enter exactly that. She holsters her pistol and dives under Edgeshot's spider web, flat, crawling towards Sanji's body like an earthworm. Whips thunder above like machine gun fire. Thwip thwip thwip, she fights back the urges to raise herself a single centimeter.

She continues to crawl, refusing to physically recoil in fear of death.

Pressing onwards, Kei'd become a target for Incognito to pounce on. Yet, when could he turn his knife towards her, plunging the cool steel into her back? Not while a sprawl of wires threaten to entangle him in cruel bondage. This presents a single opportunity to pull Sanji out of there while she still can. It's fortunate that a stray rope hasn't lashed him or put another hole in his riddled mess of a body.

Kei's preoccupied with the terror above her head. When her left arm crawls forward, a morbid sensation stings in her head—wet, not the feeling of water from a bath, rather the sort of wetness that your body, as if an instinct gained via evolution, screams "We shouldn't be feeling this.". And the warmth stings, a faint whiff of death prevalent.

Her eyes widen.

Sanji's there like a corpse in a coffin. The moonlight highlights his pale skin, paler than his white hair—formerly white, she supposes, not after the ruin he experienced. He's lying there, unmoving, totality in his gaze. Just a few days prior, he was a teenage boy. Now, he's unrecognizable.

To affirm his existence, Kei reaches over and takes his hand. Slightly warm, perhaps from lying in his own blood, and a feeble pulse under his wrist.

He's alive. Barely.

"Let's get you out of here," promises Kei. She positions herself at Sanji's head, preparing to stand. "Edgeshot, keep Incognito distracted!"

Although he doesn't respond, he receives her message. The fight is moved a distance, albeit about a few meters total. It's more than enough space, Kei's assured.

Kei rises, lifts Sanji, keeping her head down in case Edgeshot decides to retaliate against her—a silly fear in the heat of the moment. The boy's unconscious body wants to return to the earth limped, fighting against any unnatural motion. She fights back, hooking her arms under his armpits, and pushes back with her feet. She's far from the physique to easily carry him so this is second best: dragging him hastily away from the immediate dangers.

After ten to fifteen meters of physical effort, Kei drops from exhaustion, falls on her behind heaving. An intelligent doctor as she is, she underestimated the amount of energy it would take to manage a boy whose weight is practically a fully-grown man. She looks down at Sanji, also spotting how her clothes are now drenched in blood.

"God's sake," Kei breathes, exhausted in more than one sense, "I'm not a medical doctor…"

Almost in torpor, she endures the ridiculousness of reality. She doesn't have any medical supplies on hand, nor any training in treating gunshot wounds let alone serious bleeding, but she must make do.

Alright, Kei encourages herself, let's see what's wrong with you.

She takes off her coat and begin tearing it into sizable threads, identifying the injuries present. Ignoring what you sustained during Edgeshot's 'training', Incognito did a number on you. Every number can and will be fatal, I don't need a license to declare that much. It's possible that the bullet in your thigh could've severed an artery, and I don't need to mention how bad it is to have four bullets tearing through your chest. Ironically enough, the bullet that bounced off your skull might've been the least fatal.

Kei turns over Sanji's right thigh, spotting the entry and exit hole caused by Incognito's caliber. She wraps a thin piece of fabric around her index finger and plugs one of them with it, doing the same with the other. I also don't need a license to know that it's a good idea to stop the bleeding. It's not perfect, far from it. Our mutual comrade purposefully caused this, so blame him when you wake up.

Using a relatively clean, long strap, she wraps it around Sanji's head, covering his exposed skull. Now, there's the hard part: his torso. Evident by the pool of blood underneath him earlier, he has exit wounds. Given how specialized Incognito's gun is, it's certain that he didn't use a "weak" caliber; thus, all four bullets most likely went through Sanji instead of lingering inside his chest.

To check, she lifts him up from the side—

—RUSTLE!

Kei unholsters her pistol and turns around.

"Hero Commission. I have the authority to shoot to kill," she half-lies. Officially, Kei is merely a scientist. Unofficially, she's apart of the deepest sanctum. Any killings can and will be covered up.

"Doctor Shirabe?" a tired-sounding girl calls out. Kei recognizes her voice. The girl steps out from the darkness, dirt covering her fair skin and red-orange hair.

Kei winces, lowering her gun. I'm not sure if this is the best person to stumble in, or the worst…

"What's going…" She stops, eyes growing, terror paralyzing her muscle-by-muscle. It's the same terror that Kei witnessed in Lady Nagant, for example, when she murdered her first man, or when Kei herself looked in a mirror after bystanding during one of Edgeshot's "righteous" missions for the first time.

It's the look of beholding death. "...Sanji?"

"Yes," Kei states, matter of factly. She adopts Edgeshot's almost-psychopathic tone, taking on a cool head all the while her rage rests in the background. "It's him, Kendo."

Itsuka quivers where she stands. She's having trouble process what she's seeing. Poor girl, Kei thinks, Though Inochi has a long record of hospital visits, this is different.

THWIP THWIP!

Kei flinches. The sound of Edgeshot's thorns is closer than she anticipated. While her logic dictates that he can't be no more than five or so meters away, the noise makes it seem like she was nearly decapitated. Checking on the fight, it's still going on. Kei doesn't know the status of either men. They tire, yes; at the same time, they can go on endlessly for the sake of their mission.

First sight, the battle isn't impressive. It resembles more of an abstract painting or a stylistic computer animation with Edgeshot's superficially-chaotic sprawling, yet each second exposes the risk of death, the percentages increasing by decimals as time goes on. Itsuka's presence doesn't tip the scales, but if left unchecked, can and will spell doom.

She stands there, haunted. "What…? What happened to him…? I just saw him like, just like, ten minutes ago, that's it! Just ten minutes ago, less than that—maybe now that I'm thinking 'bout it—it was less than ten minutes ago, yeah! How… I just—just ran over here as soon as I heard a gunshot… How did Sanji…?"

Kei shuts her eyes for a moment, face scrunching up in frustration. "Kendo, stop babbling nonsense! If you want to save his life, then help me! I'll explain everything as we go!"

Itsuka, while shell-shocked still, finds herself obeying Kei. She sprints over, neglecting to notice an exposed root in her path and almost trips like a bumbling, drunken fool. Her instincts kick in, catching herself. With the momentum, she goes forward before her unbalance takes her onto her knees, sliding and nearly colliding with Kei, who stops her.

Holstering her gun once again, Kei holds Itsuka by the shoulders. The girl's eyes are absent, pupils gazing at her boyfriend on death's door. Kei shakes her—gently, of course. "Kendo, look at me."

She doesn't look.

Kei shakes her again, harder. "Kendo. Look at me. You're looking, aren't you?" Itsuka is, barely. "Nod your head."

Itsuka nods.

"Good. Listen to me: Now is not the time to be emotional, got it? Edgeshot is fighting for our lives—technically-speaking—so we need to do our part: making sure that Inochi stays alive. You haven't been in U.A. long enough to receive the level of training where in times like these, your brain switches modes of operation: instead of neurons firing, they become gears in a machine. Thankfully, you went through I-Island, right? You went through that crisis and survived, didn't you?"

Kei knows that Itsuka was mostly injured throughout the entire attack, where she was rendered bed-ridden by Re-Destro. However, by bringing up that incident, she hopes to inspire confidence in the rattled girl. It's one thing to maintain confidence after a tremendous beating, but it's another when coming across your loved one, dying, bleeding out unjustly.

Itsuka nods again for Kei, then again for herself, and again for reassurance. She begins to consciously breathe. In through her mouth, out through her nose. "R-Right, we went through that… We survived, we got through it together… Together."

"That's right—together." Kei exaggerates a nod, reciprocating Itsuka's response. "We'll save Inochi, okay? So help me. Help me so we can help him. If you understand, go to the other side."

"G-got it…" Itsuka understands, doing exactly that. Her stress isn't gone, far from it, but she's in control of her emotions where it wouldn't prove to be a cumbersome burden. She kneels down next to Sanji, allowing herself to truly see what's in front of her.

Her breaths stir, stirring, the intervals closing together, slurring together, on the verge of coming to a halt.

"Breathe, Kendo." Kei's voice is steady. "Don't turn away, you need to see him. So breathe, okay? Breathe like you did before. I'm going to need access to his wounds, so I need to rip his shirt."

While Itsuka works on her breathing, Kei grips onto Sanji's shirt and tears it. His bare flesh is revealed. Four distinct holes visibly infamously make themselves known through profuse bleeding. Extraneously, there's countless bruises and small cuts scattered across—Edgeshot's handiwork.

Kei wraps a strap around her finger. "I need to be honest with you: I have basic medical training that's it, so what I'm doing may or may not be correct. What I do have is common sense: bleeding is bad. I'm going to plug his gunshot wounds with this. It's not the best, but it's all I have."

Itsuka mumbles, though nodding. "I—!"

—THWIP!

SNAP!

Just a meter to Kei's left, one of Edgeshot's strings cut an entire branch off of a tree. It falls, almost landing on top of her head. Kei flinches, arms jerking up while her head jolts downwards. "Edgeshot, focus!"

Kei groans, going ahead and plugging the most serious wound she sees. "Here's what I need you to do: listen for his breathing. If it's steady, we're doing alright—if it's getting short, tell me—if he's choking, shout."

Depending on the location and severity of each gunshot wound, it can lead to a laundry list of complications. As Sanji breathes, air can enter where it should never enter. Usually, as Kei heard, that can cause a collapsed lung—obviously not beneficial. There's also the possibility where he can be choking on his own blood—also not beneficial. Truthfully, she doesn't have the medical knowledge or experience to infer every outcome.

All she can do is stop the bleeding, entrusting Itsuka to communicate the boy's status to her.

Itsuka puts her ear over Sanji's mouth.

Kei works on the other holes, glancing at her nearly every second. "Is he breathing?"

"He's…" Itsuka grimaces.

"Kendo!"

"Breathing!" she exclaims. "I can barely hear him, but he's breathing!"

"Steady? Relatively okay?"

"Relatively!" Itsuka lets out a sigh. "He's...breathing. Yeah, he's definitely breathing."

"Thank God. He's unkillable," Kei comments, continuing her work. "At this point, no one can kill him other than himself."

"Yeah…" The girl goes quiet, not from her anxiety roaring inside her, but from the rage stirring inside like a pot about to boil over. "...The League did this, didn't they?"

Kei doesn't answer.

Who else could have done this? Of course the League did. They intended to kill Sanji. Murdering a prominent student—more so with the knowledge of the Origin-type—so ending his life prematurely, it works incredibly in their favor. What would they have to lose? Vengeance from the Heroes? They're already under fire since the U.S.J. Incident.

Kei glums, gesturing for the Hero Student to maintain constant observation. While the good doctor despises the League for their immoral actions, she holds a greater contempt against the established Commission. If it weren't for them, she wouldn't be here, administering incredibly-questionable medical aid and unexpectedly acting as a role model for the young woman to look towards.

She wouldn't be here, crafting a makeshift tourniquet for Sanji's right leg. It's merely a long piece of torn, dirty polyester tied tightly around his upper thigh, a few inches above his wounds. Actual tourniquets are more elaborate than this sorry excuse, as if it would have the same effectiveness. It's better than nothing.

It's a single step away from nothing, to be exact. Kei can count how many things she can do with one hand, but it would take multiple hands to count what she cannot do. She can't clean his wounds and disinfect them, to stop the bleeding properly with gauze and a real tourniquet, to find a way to move him without further risk, nor has the technical know-how to deal with a collapsed lung or compromised breathing.

Kei's a pessimist, a trait gained during her time in the deplorable Commission. She entrusted Sage's life to this boy, to Sanji, because who else? Who else would she rely on when the world cornered her absolutely? Looking at him now, there's one thing—only one thing—that can save him: a miracle.

How else would he survive? How long would it be before medical services whisk him away in a helicopter or an ambulance? An hour? Two hours? With the limited supplies the Heroes possess, it's nearly not enough. Hypothetically, he survives. Who's to say that there wouldn't be any long-lasting consequences for the rest of his life?

It's revolting. Completely, utterly, revolting.

Edgeshot, playing God. He induced a scenario where a miracle is the only solution. To forcibly awaken his Quirk, preying on his fight-or-flight instincts, in the off-chance that somehow, it would prevent his death.

What if he fails? Then, shamefully, he should die.

"..." Kei's eyes shut. Her face strains, hands clenching and stretching a piece of fabric. She knows. She wants to try, try her damndest no matter if it's futile, but she knows. She can give him more time, that's all she's capable of doing. Whatever happens next…

It'll be his decision.

Wherever his consciousness is, wherever his ancestor watches, he has to choose.

THWIP!

SKKRT!

Edgeshot reforms himself, his pale gold zori sandals skidding backwards to the three. His costume is cut in various places, and his outrageous hair loses its shape, falling onto his shoulders, covering his right eye. He lifts a hand, sweeps the strands aside, and stands boldly against his opposition.

Kei gasps.

He's missing a few fingers. His right pinky is severed at the first joint from the hand, his right middle lost its tip, and on his left, the same can be said for his ring finger. Every cut is surgically clean, presenting itself akin to a practical effect in a horror movie. There's nothing fake about what she sees.

Incognito deactivates his Quirk, revealing himself with his combat knife toting in his right hand, pistol holstered. There's blood pooling on his left side, just above his waist. Edgeshot found him, yet the placement isn't enough for death nor instant-incapacitation.

Kei and Itsuka stop, casted over by the hanging moonlit shadow that the Hero made. It spits on the boy in particular as if to spite him. Worriedly, the girl turns to Kei, who motions for her to stay put while she carefully reaches for her gun.

Edgeshot sighs. The sweat on his forehead threatens to blind him, so he wipes the beads off with the back of his hand. "All that effort to give you a small wound."

Incognito chuckles, a groan coming after. He touches the puncture with his index and middle finger, rubbing the blood together with an added thumb. "It's less painful than being shot than Nagant. How are your fingers?"

He glances at his wounded hands, lips straightening, almost inconvenienced. "I suppose I need prosthetics; however, I don't need all ten to end your life."

The Villain laughs, and again, groaning. He leans over, glaring at the group through his mask. "What to do, what to do… My employer would appreciate your death, Edgeshot. Alongside Doctor Shirabe's too. Within a second, you can die with a bullet in your brains. Before the doctor draws hers."

"Before I can puncture your heart?" Edgeshot asks. He brings his arm close to his chest, hand clenched, which can no longer forming a closed fist.

He shrugs. "There's one way to find out. But…" Incognito taps his ear. Of course he would have an earpiece. "...I think a tactical retreat is in order. While my employer tasked me with ensuring Armory's death, he noticed something peculiar that only I can exploit—an added advantage for the League."

"What the fuck did you do, you bastard?" Itsuka stands, enraged. She steps forward, her foot stomping in the grass flat. "Isn't shooting Sanji half-to-death enough for you, sick fuck?!"

Kei swears under her breath. "Kendo, calm down and breathe—!"

"—What did you do, Incognito?" Edgeshot lowers his head, gray eyes glaring.

Although no one can tell, he's smiling. "I suppose we have a lot to find out—"

"Don't run, you fucker!"
"Kendo!"
"..."

"—Let's watch together, Edgeshot! Let's see if your gamble pulls through!"

Itsuka doesn't make halfway until Incognito simply disappears, popping out of existence. It's impossible to find his location now. Impossible, as he's traversing through the labyrinth of the forest. He leaves the group of four there, the girl falling to her knees, pounding the ground with her fists; the Hero stonely gazing away, his quiet anger waiting to burst through the seams; the doctor, who steels her courage to hold her Arakan .45 in her hands; and the boy, dying as they meander.

Edgeshot, the first to react after Incognito's departure, says, "I'll be pursuing Incognito. He hasn't—"

—Kei points the barrel at his skull.

"Hmph." Edgeshot's disappointed.

"Doctor Shirabe? What's going on?" Itsuka stands back to her feet, the lingering afterglow of wrath still coursing through her. "What the hell did Edgeshot do? What did Incognito mean by his 'gamble'?!"

"We watched," says Kei. "We watched it all. We saw Inochi encounter Incognito, and instead of intervening and saving his life, he forced us to stay back."

"He did...what?" Itsuka turns to him. "Sanji… He's—"

"—An Origin-type user," interrupts Edgeshot. "He was uncooperative, so I took the most logical course of action.

"Don't conflate rationality with logic. You can rationalize anything as long as your mind is okay with it." Kei inches closer. "And you're okay with anything. You did this for what, Edgeshot? For fucking what?! A chance for him to wake up? No, this was a good way to kill him. You don't expect him to live!"

"Doctor Shirabe—"

"—We have FUCKING NOTHING! Right here, right now, I can't save his life and it's your fault! If we stay like this, he'll die, and guess what? You'll take away a good man from his friends! His girlfriend's standing right fucking here, a witness to your cruelty!"

Edgeshot drops his arms. "Then, shoot me."

She scoffs. "No."

"No?"

"You're still useful, Edgeshot. We will regroup with the others as fast as possible, and maybe, you can try being a Hero for once in your forsaken life."

"How will you do that? By threatening me?"

"Yes." Kei wraps a finger around the trigger. "You can kill me and do whatever you want, I have faith you can do it. Or alternatively, you can concede and do what I say. If you don't choose, I'll shoot."

Edgeshot steps closer, letting the cold steel press against his head. "Your life is worthless, Doctor Shirabe, need I remind you? Your worth is only tied to your daughter. Are you willing to die for a boy you just met? That you said will die, shamelessly without honor?"

Kei glances at Itsuka. She's speechless, not knowing what to say or do. Imagine being in her place, finding your lover bleeding out, trapped in a conflict between those who are supposed to be your allies, the balance of power tipping at every moment. It's not an enviable position. Even then, to ease her worries…

Kei smiles, turning to Edgeshot, the green highlights in her hair glowing with pride. "What I've done to my Chie, I deserve to die anyway. So, it stands to reason that I need to try. Even if we both die, it won't be in vain."

"You…"

"What's with the anxiety? Worthless things need no concern, correct?"

He looks down upon Kei.

And Kei raises herself to meet him. Grasping fate's grip, her smile grows. "Edgeshot, my worth ends at this barrel. See any value in it?"

"What's the next play, Hero?"

---

Unknown Time

"Pro Hero Mandalay speaking through Telepath! There's unknown things attacking us! We need immediate reinforcements! I repeat, anyone near the vicinity, we have unknown enemies attacking us! Send aid immediately!"

---

Roster Report

Casualties: Sanji Inochi, Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Yuga Aoyama, Rikido Sato, Toru Hagakure, Minoru Mineta, Koji Koda, Shihai Kuroiro, Jurota Shishida, Pony Tsunotori, Juzo Honenuki, Kosei Tsuburaba, 1 Genkei Musha

Injured/Non-Combatants: Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Manga Fukidashi, Kojiro Bondo, Reiko Yanagi, Kota Izumi, Mustard

Status Unknown: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Tenya Iida, Fumikage Tokoyami, Togaru Kamakiri, Yosetsu Awase, Dabi, Toga Himiko, Spinner, Magne, Mr. Compress, Twice, Muscular, Moonfish, Chainsaw Nomu

Active: Vlad King, Eraserhead, Mandalay, Tiger, Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Mashirao Ojiro, Sen Kaibara, Yui Kodai, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda, Setsuna Tokage, Neito Monoma, Hiryu Rin, Chie Shirabe, Incognito

—

Location Unknown: Chie Shirabe

South of the Mobile Research Center: Incognito, Sanji Inochi, Itsuka Kendo, Edgeshot, Kei Shirabe

Interception Party: Vlad King, Setsuna Tokage, Yui Kodai, Mashirao Ojiro

—

East of the Mobile Research Center: Izuku Midoriya, Tenya Iida, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Fumikage Tokoyami, Togaru Kamakiri, Yosetsu Awase

Interception Party: Eraserhead, Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Sen Kaibara

—

Clearing with Fallen Logs: Vlad King, Eraserhead, Mandalay, Tiger, Pixie-Bob, Ragdoll, Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Mezo Shoji, Mashirao Ojiro, Sen Kaibara, Yui Kodai, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda, Setsuna Tokage, Neito Monoma, Hiryu Rin, Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Hanta Sero, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Manga Fukidashi, Kojiro Bondo, Reiko Yanagi, Kota Izumi, Mustard

Defending Party: Mandalay, Tiger, Neito Monoma, Hiryu Rin, Ibara Shiozaki, Kinoko Komori, Nirengeki Shoda

Attackers: 99 Genkei Mushas

---

Author's Note

Wow, this took longer than I thought. I'll reveal to you the reason why at the end. Initially, I thought this would take like two chapters, but I was wrong. I definitely need three. This chapter establishes exactly what the title says: a foothold.

The hardest part of this chapter is the absurdly large number of characters at play, so naturally, if some characters didn't have enough agency, I apologize but hot damn, it's difficult trying to prioritize 1-B while also ensuring that we have logical consistency among the other characters. If you ask me how I decided the interception party and who goes unconscious and who's injured and has to stay at the clearing…

I split it between two parts: Needed Characters + Unnecessary

The former says, "I need them for future plot developments, so they must participate." For example, 1-A has active characters you'd see in canon while Setsuna? She has to participate in the plot because she's the tritagonist.

The latter says, "They aren't unnecessary for future plot developments, so I wouldn't stand to gain or lose if I included them or not." However, it's difficult to pick in choose, so do you know what I did instead? I rolled dice, a d12 to be exact.

1-4: Unconscious, taken out of the arc entirely

5-8: Injured, rendered a non-combatant (since the GMs will attack the clearing, these people have the possibility to fight. Some characters are immediately designated this, like Momo.)

9-12: Interceptors, they will have a greater participation in the arc

Yeah, I rolled dice to play with these guys' fate. It was kinda fun, maybe something like this can happen again in the near future.

But onto the actual plot, you can see that our characters are panicking as hell. Like Sage in the first scene, like Setsuna when she realizes that, oh shit, two of her mentors can literally die in front of her, and Itsuka, realizing that Sanji will probably die right before her eyes.

Thanks to Neito's quick-thinking, he's able to turn the situation around and turn off the gas valve. Guess what? I actually didn't know how to solve this problem in the beginning. I kept asking myself, "Okay okay. How does the Heroes turn this around because they are fucked. They got ambushed, gas and fire are closing in, what can they do?" Then, I realized Neito can come in, copy a few Quirks, and save the day.

That's exactly what I did. A good chunk of the times, I create problems and I have to figure a solution out. Other times, I know the problem and solution before writing it.

Onto Kei, we can see her having more of a character growth, let's go. If you remember her first appearance, she was submissive in front of the President, now she's literally holding a gun to Edgeshot's head. Sanji had an impact on her character, seeing him rebel against the Commission made her go, "The future's uncertain, so I might as well follow my best shot."

And that's what happened. For Incognito, I had some trouble figuring out his Quirk. I did my best to rationalize/deduce its effects. I knew what it was going to do, but then I had to elaborate on it. Essentially: Your brain can't process him, and this extends to anything he does and says, including minor interactions with the environment (i.e. picking up a rock). That's why Edgeshot and Kei didn't see him while Sanji saw him.

Remember: Sanji is immune to Mental-type Quirks that inflict the mind. That's why Incognito didn't bother to hide from him, instead approaching him outright.

Anyway, wonder why this chapter took longer? Uh, I'm planning a new project. Not the Genshin fanfic one, but an original work—a web serial (if you heard of Worm, A Practical Guide to Evil, The Wandering Inn, etc, then this would be like that). After completing this chapter, I'm almost ready to start writing it, so this will have a slower turnout times.

If you got any tips/have any interest in this, feel free to comment or something.