Chapter Twenty-Four

Ground Zero


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Sand coalesced on a silent breeze, soldering together in brilliant flashes of green light. No one was there to witness this event, yet for two people it meant the difference between life and death.

Kirishima Eijiro was the first of the two to open his eyes. Camie was cowering in his arms, clinging hard onto him. He could feel his shirt complaining about how her fists were mauling the fabric. Eijiro marveled that her skin was already sun-touched just from the brief time they had spent in that forsaken desert. He hoped to never see that place ever again, yet he knew he'd feel a pull back to that desolate wasteland until the day it, or she, called in his debt.

She. Cecelyne. Both place and person. The thought was mind-bending, but there was no time to consider that now. "Hey, it's safe now. You can open your eyes."

Kirishima couldn't help but admit to himself that Camie was adorable. She opened just one eye at first, peering up at him from where her face nuzzled into his neck. Her lips were chapped from her brief time in the desert, but they still pouted softly. Kissably. "You're sure?"

Nope. Can't think that way, he said to himself. "Yeah, I'm sure. Let's go find the others."

They reappeared from where they had left, but now it was just the two of them alone on the rooftop. Neither of them had any idea how much time had passed since they were whisked away to that foreign world.

"Eijiro," Camie began, her voice low like a smothered moan. "What's that hard thing pressing against my leg?"

"Oh!" he remarked without missing a beat, stepping back to create enough distance between them that the object could be looked at by both quite clearly. "It's the statue I used to get us… to… you know, I don't even fully understand what I did with it, but we're back, and I still have it."

The salt statue peered out from his pocket stoically. It was angled in such a way though that he knew it couldn't be mistaken for anything else, except maybe… oh. "But… um… if you… if you thought what I think you were thinking, then thanks for the compliment, I guess?" he couldn't help but stammer a little.

Camie giggled at his flustered face. Her laugh sounded like sweet music. She stepped closer to him, filling the space between them. The way her fingers delicately circled the head of the statue sent his mind reeling, as did the view of her breasts when he looked down to see what her hand was doing. "Anytime," she winked.

He turned and coughed, looking around to see if there was any sign of where Kamui Woods or the others had gone.

Just then, there was a thunderous roar, a guttural cry from something savage and monstrous. Camie stepped back from the noise while Eijiro stepped forward, placing himself between her and the direction the noise came from.

He stared hard across the ephemeral bridge linking the other building to their location. "It's from somewhere in there. I have a feeling we're about to get into a fight."

For once, Camie's voice had a hard edge to it. "We have to help, Eijiro."

Eijiro looked back at her over his shoulder. She sounded so brave yet looked so small and weak. He marveled at how similar she was in that moment to Mina when he first noticed his feelings for his best friend. "Stay behind me. I'll tank whatever gets in our way," he said with a full toothed grin.

"I'll make illusions of more of you so we can distract the enemy," she said.

Eijiro nodded, glad for the backup. The two made a brisk run for it, crossing the bridge and moving swiftly through the apartment whose balcony it was connected to. Soon they found the stairwell and waited there, listening for any more sounds. They knew there was a fight happening somewhere in the building but was it from above or below where they now stood?

"Hold on," Camie whispered. Eijiro wasn't sure what she was up to until she breathed out a trail of glowing mist. Soon he was surrounded with copies of himself.

"That's a neat trick," he whispered back. "Just how realistic are they?" he asked as he reached out to touch one of his copies. Eijiro's hand passed through a smiling version of his face, passing through it like he was dipping his hand through the still surface of a reflective pond.

"I can make them more tangible, but not while managing this many," she said. "Unfortunately, I can't make them tangible for myself, though, since I can't fall for my own illusions."

He thought for a long moment, confused. "So… you could trick me into thinking one of them is touching me, but you couldn't make it solid enough to throw something?"

Her smirk sent a shiver down his spine and straight into his groin. "That's one way to put it. So yeah, I could have a few illusions touch you if that's what you wanted."

"Uh…" his brain completely stopped working. Eijiro reset his thoughts when Camie dispersed the copies she had made through the stairwell. They made the sounds you'd expect from a bunch of dudes running up or down a flight of stairs. Some of them even spoke up with ad-lib banter, offering to race the others or encouraging slogans you might find on the walls of a gym.

"Do I really sound like that?" he asked, more than a little worried about what other people saw in him.

"Oh yeah, right down to your use of the word 'bro' when you want to seem extra friendly." Camie's smirk hadn't left her face and probably wouldn't for a while. It was flirty, yet it also projected a get-shit-done attitude that he liked.

"Oh fuck!" one of the copies cried out from above just before it was shot through the gut by a large projectile. The ballistic moved harmlessly through the illusionary Eijiro and splattered noxious acid all over the other wall.

Eijiro instinctively hardened his skin and used his body to cover Camie, shielding her from any acid that might stray down onto their position. Tiny drops of the acrid substance splattered onto his back, eating holes in his shirt and rending his hardened carapace into a cracked shell. The burning sensation was excruciating, but he bore through it, reminding himself of just what kind of hero he wanted to be.

"You alright?" he asked her, trying to keep his voice even so that Camie wouldn't worry about how much pain he was in. He couldn't hide the worry in his voice though, genuinely concerned for her wellbeing.

"Bro, that was rude!" one of the illusions called out, only to receive a guttural roar from some monster in response.

"I'm okay… are you?" Camie tried to ask him.

Eijiro smiled with more bravado and confidence than he actually felt. "Yeah. Now, excuse me while I go tear that motherfucker apart, okay?"


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Gang Orca lead his younger charge to where it all began. The place seemed dead and abandoned. The burn marks and rubble were interrupted by splatters of blood.

The eerie bridge that linked the two apartment buildings floated on glowing runes. In the stillness, the bridge hummed with a quiet yet constant thrumming.

Cries for help over the comms followed by dead silence. This was not a good sign.

Gang Orca switched his watch to a tracking application. His gargantuan frame meant that his support gear was sized up to him, making the screen large enough that Bakugou could make out some of the details from over a meter away. "Kamui should be this way," he gestured to the other side of the bridge. The two decided to see what was left of the temporary command center.

No one knew just how temporary the Support Corps outpost would be, or how brutally it would be attacked. The place looked like a corpse after vultures had eaten their fill. The equipment, though abandoned, had been picked clean of useful technology. There were deep cuts into the walls, the windows had shattered, and silver sand littered the floor.

According to the tracking device, they should have been practically on top of Kamui and his team. Where were they?

Katsuki glanced this way and that, trying to help the older hero puzzle out the solution. Something crumpled under his shoe, a rustling noise that sounded louder than gunfire against the backdrop of silence.

It was a lonely piece of paper. It clung to Katsuki's boot like a desperate beggar. Help me, it cried.

He lifted his leg to pry the thing off, annoyed more than anything, when he saw that his name was written on the outside of the folded scrap.

As Katsuki brought the note closer to his face, examining it, he was filled with a dreadful sense of foreboding. He unfolded the paper slowly, already tracing the lines of a notebook with his eyes.

Deku's note stabbed Katsuki clean through his heart. He didn't understand how to think or feel. The paper felt like it would burn his hand, yet he couldn't let go.


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Kacchan,

By the time you find this note, I'll have taken your advice. Don't worry. I won't jump off the school. I have a better plan than that. I hope you get into U.A. and I hope you become a better Hero than you were a friend. I always looked up to you. Please never treat anyone the way you treated me. I now know what it is like to have a Hero look down on you. Don't do that when you become a Hero.

Don't blame yourself. You're not the reason I'm doing this.

Your friend,

Izuku.


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"He looked up to me," Katsuki whispered. "He looked up to a piece of shit like me, just like everyone else did." The blonde struggled. It felt like someone had punched him hard in the gut but somehow had forgotten to remove their fist.

"What was that?" Gang Orca asked from the other side of the room, barely looking up from the equipment he was messing with, some invention of the Support Corps.

"Nothing," Katsuki uttered as he stuffed the note deep into his pocket. He winced as the paper crumpled in its new confinement. It deserved more respect than that…

Deku deserved more respect than that, he thought, bitterly, resentfully.

Could Katsuki make everything right? No, he told himself, hating himself for the honesty of that answer. But no matter what, he could do one thing Deku had asked for.

Katsuki could become a better hero than he was a friend.

"Hey, uh, Orca? If the tracker says they're here… maybe we should head up and down? You know… vertical?" the blonde shrugged, wondering if they were simply approaching the problem with too simple a mindset.

The older hero looked tired. They all were. It made it difficult for any of them to think straight. No matter what, though, they had to press on, regardless of how their exhaustion made them thoughtless or careless.

After all, it didn't look like the enemy needed to sleep.

"Alright, let's head up and work our way through the building." He offered.


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Yaoyorozu Momo had worked longer and harder in the past forty-eight hours than she ever had in her life, and part of her secretly loved every minute of it. The rest of her, though, was tired. Ashido Mina and she had made themselves indispensable, helping Midnight with evacuation efforts on the northwest part of Musutafu.

Thanks to the R-rated Heroine and Eraserhead, both Momo and Mina had not only ample ways to be useful but also got to meet over a dozen upperclassmen from U.A., who were the primary responders at the evacuation centers outside the city. Once there, people were triaged, given meals, and eventually loaded into buses that would take them to hotels scattered across Japan that had generously donated rooms for the evacuation effort. Quietly, Momo was proud to see the names of several hotel brands her family had heavily invested in appeared repeatedly on the destination list.

In just the two hours since they had parted ways with Gang Orca and Eraserhead, their team alone had rescued a dozen families, more than fifty people, before they lost count. The last bus was an emotional departure for them. The two young women waved goodbye as three small boys from two separate families jumped up and down at their window seats, waving goodbye to their rescuers.

For two aspiring heroes, that felt damn good.

It didn't feel good when the two were denied re-entry with Aizawa and his all-pro team. The newly formed unit would guide no fewer than five buses into the heart of Musutafu. Their destination was the NTT Medical Center Musutafu, the little sister hospital to the same brand in Tokyo. There they had the unenviable task of loading patients that the doctors and nurses had refused to abandon. The buses had every seat removed just to make room for the necessary equipment and stackable bunks necessary for patient transport.

"For civilian deputies, you two have done a lot. You both… your families should be extremely proud. I know I am." Aizawa had said to both young women as he readied to depart. "I have students who took more than a year to comport themselves with the same attitude you both have shown."

The older hero did not say goodbye as he turned to leave. He didn't utter his desire to see the two of them, safe and hopefully in his class. That didn't sit well with the pink-skinned young woman, though. Ashido Mina yelled out after him, "Then look forward to us showing up those students when you see us at U.A!"

"Eraserhead!" Momo called out to him. "Thank you for taking care of us! We wouldn't have made it this far without you!"

Aizawa paused, not daring to turn around before resuming his ascendance into the bus. It wouldn't do to let the deputies see that their shouted farewells had brought a tear to his eye.

"Alright!" loud and proud, the pro-hero Miruko stood atop the lead bus. "Let's get a move on this thing! Go, go, go!"

As the security gate parted, allowing the buses to re-enter the forbidden city, Momo was caught by motion in her peripheral vision. Her heart stirred, fluttering in her chest when she saw that Mina was crying. "Hey," the taller woman said. "Come on, it'll be alright."

Sniffling, the pink-haired woman shrugged. "I just… it finally hit me that we've been coming back and forth to this camp," she gestured outward to the staging area of the evacuation center, "and I still don't know what happened to a lot of people that I care about."

Momo placed a hand around the other woman as she turned her back towards one of the benches. "You're worried about your boyfriend, Eiji?"

"Eijiro," Mina corrected. "But not just him. I don't know what happened to his family, or some of my friends… and what about Uraraka? What about Ochako?"

Momo decided to do something a bit wasteful and a bit silly. Reaching into one of the pockets of a belt she had made earlier that day, she pulled out her phone before turning it back on. It was a waste of power when she had no signal and no way to recharge, but if it helped cheer Mina up, then it was worth it.

Momo quickly found the video of Izuku that Mina had shared yesterday, back when the disaster was limited just to Musutafu as far as everyone knew. Before the sky had changed and the world had gone completely mad with fear. Now, any distraction from the fate of their sunless world wasn't frivolous but a necessity for sanity and morale.

"Take a look at him, really look at him," Momo said to her companion in deputized heroics.

Mina chuckled between tears, laughing and crying all at once. "You mean his ass, abs, or that face?"

Momo shook her head. Those were all very nice, she admitted to herself, but that's not what she wanted to achieve here. "Look at him, not just how good he looks. Look at how powerful he is, how protective he is. Do you really think he'd let anything happen to her? Don't you think Eraserhead and Midnight took measure of him before letting Uraraka go with him?"

Mina's lips quivered. "But… it's just him versus all of those monsters. They'll be swarmed. Momo… are we all on the losing side of this thing?"

Yes. They were losing. Momo knew that. The sun wasn't visible in the sky from any part of the world. Immortal monsters were scattered all across Musutafu. All Might, the greatest hero in Japan, had been captured. More than a dozen well-known heroes had already been pronounced dead, and others were missing. Everywhere she looked, people were losing hope.

Momo couldn't just spit all that out, though. She didn't want to reaffirm Mina's fears, even if she shared them.

Just then, far to their southwest, fire and light roared into the sky. The shockwave sent out a thunderclap of noise that echoed across and beyond Musutafu. A tower of green fire stood from the apex of Mount Takao, standing defiant against the sunless sky, bringing light and warmth to the surrounding world of twilight. The fire rumbled and roared like the grinding noise of a tornado, constant and churning, a forge-fire fed by otherworldly fuel.

The two young women instinctively clung tighter together at the sudden explosion. Momo, however, was smiling. She was shocked but wasn't afraid. Not as much as she was just a few moments earlier. Her existential dread was banished alongside the darkness. "We've been losing since this started, Mina, but not anymore."

Momo held up the image of Midoriya Izuku before their faces as the two looked at his defiant features and the gout of green fire atop the mountain the distance. "We have the Shining fucking Prince on our side."

Another miracle happened just then, albeit a smaller and less impressive one.

Momo's phone rang. The noise was barely noticed by anyone else at the makeshift camp, but to Momo and Mina, it was like the tiny device had shocked them both with electricity. "Answer it!" Mina cried out, not even taking the time to take in who might be calling. The mere act of talking long-distance was itself something to no longer take for granted.

Momo didn't recognize the number. It wasn't in her contacts. Still, it was the only call anyone in this camp had seen outside the satellite network that the heroes were using.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Momo! Oh, thank god it worked. Are you alright? Are you in Musutafu still, or near it? Are you near the mountain?" her father's voice shot out from the speaker with dreadful panic and relief blended together in a torrent of words. Momo barely could keep up with him.

"Father! I, um, yes, I'm okay! How are you able to call me? All the cell towers here are out!" Momo was trying to process all of this, but still, her curiosity overwhelmed her relief at hearing a familiar voice.

"I'm using the satellite network and bouncing the signal through the Support Corps. Never underestimate what Yaoyorozu Industries can do, Momo. But enough of that. Answer me: are you in Musutafu? Are you near Mount Takao?" the man's voice spoke of an urgency that set Momo's neck-hairs alight with static energy, a prickling sensation of dread moving up and down her spine before settling sourly in her gut.

There was ice encroaching into Momo's voice, but all her father heard was caution in his daughter's changing tone. "No father, I'm north of the city. The mountain is southwest of me, I can see it from here but it's a feature on the horizon. Why do I think you know what's happening there even though you're on a business trip in Osaka?"

Her father released a long heaving sigh of relief. Somehow that sound made Momo's skin prickle even worse than before as cold dread radiated up and down her back. "I know enough, Momo. Promise me that you'll stay away from there. For that matter, make your way immediately to Narita Airport and I'll have a jet pick you up. It'll take some doing but…"

"No," Momo uttered her decision with severe finality. "I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what it is that you know. Somehow I don't think you're just watching the news."

"Momo, don't test me, I'm looking out for you," her father replied, both demanding and pleading.

"Father, tell me what you know." Momo stood her ground, barely realizing that she was drawing strength from Mina as the other woman gripped onto her fingers. Those golden eyes shone with encouragement, telling Momo that she could do this, and together they could do anything.

It was funny that just moments ago, it was Momo trying to cheer up Mina, but there was no time to muse over all that now. Her father had been silent in response to her demand for too long. It was time for the ultimate game of brinkmanship. "You have ten seconds to start telling me whatever it is you're hiding, or I hang up and find out for myself."

Her father practically hissed as he inhaled through gritted teeth. "Fine, Momo. I'll spare the political details, but the summary is this: Japan's internal checks and balanced just unchecked themselves. And the result of our nation caving into a panic? The Americans are being invited to bomb Mount Takao, and they are not going light on the ammunition. By the time they are done the entire mountain will become a crater."

Momo's blood felt cold and sluggish. It was like her heart had stopped pumping properly. Images of Uraraka Ochako, the adorable waitress turned badass would-be hero, flashed through her mind. Momo couldn't help but think about the other woman's smile, her curiosity at Momo's reading, how she stood up to defend a restaurant before anyone else did, and how she had reminded the heroes who was and was not the enemy.

Then Momo pictured that smile burned away by a bomb from the sky, and hot tears of rage welled in her eyes. "Father… thank you for telling me," she said while trying to figure out her next steps.

"Now, Momo, tell me where exactly you are. Maybe I can arrange a helicopter for you…" her father began, trying to hold her to their bargain.

"How long until they take off, and from where?" Momo caught him flat-footed.

"They're fueling and re-loading their bombs right now at Narita. They're sending a large squadron out, so it could take over an hour before they take off…" he began.

"Father, thank you for everything. However, I need to remind you of something." Momo had rarely interrupted her father. Now she had done it three times in one phone call.

Momo didn't wait for the obligatory "What?" on the other end of the line. She squeezed Mina's hand, silently thanking her for supporting her throughout this call, and for not having an outburst when the other woman undoubtedly overheard the news. "Do you remember the day that I told you and mother that I wanted to become a hero?" she asked.

"I do," her father replied, dread building in his voice like a flood behind a crumbling dam.

"You're about to see what that looks like in practice." And with that, Momo hung up on her father.

"What happens now? What do we do?" Mina asked, leaving their shared fears unspoken.

"First, we track down Midnight. Then, we go extract Ochako before anything can happen to her. That's what happens next." Momo said, marching toward the triage tents. Mina quickly caught up, matching the taller woman's long authoritative stride.


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Bakugou roared up to the rooftop far faster than Gang Orca could keep up. The plan was for them to stick together and systematically work their way through the building. However, they both moved at very different speeds.

Katsuki knew he was not supposed to get too far ahead of the older pro, but he was eager and impatient. He felt a need to catch up to Deku, to show that he could, like Deku had predicted, be a hero, and he couldn't do that while hiding behind the pros.

He never expected, however, to find his mother close to the top floor. He spotted her through an apartment window. The glass was shattered. The room looked like someone had shot holes through the walls.

His mother was laying on a bed of broken glass, burnt carpet, and dried blood. It was an image Katsuki would never forget for the rest of his life, like someone had laser etched it into his retina.

She looked awful. Battered and bruised, she was difficult to recognize to anyone except those closest to her. Her lips and nose trickled fresh blood over old scabs. One of her eyes was swollen shut, the cheekbone beneath painfully out of place.

"Mom!" he cried out, running to her.

His old hag, Mitsuki, didn't respond.

He held his mother, propping her up. She seemed so light, so fragile in his arms. Checking her neck first, Katsuki confirmed a pulse. He fought back tears as he held her, trying to look her over for anything broken.

"Mom! Mom! Please, just wake up! I promise if you do, I'll never call you an old hag again!" he shouted, not caring who or what heard him. He couldn't process that whatever had done this to his mother could still be nearby.

"Ka…" she breathed out, turning on good eye up to look at his face. She seemed so helpless. It broke his heart to see her this way.

"I'll hold you… to that," she got the words out, obviously through some pain in her chest.

"It's going to be okay, mom. I've got you. Whaleface… Gang Orca is on his way up. We'll get you to a hospital…" he panicked at the thought, knowing that by now the hospitals in town would be getting evacuated if the process wasn't done already. Could his mom wait long enough to be taken to a hospital in another city? Would those be full as well?

Katsuki didn't even notice when Gang Orca arrived. He didn't turn when the large man stood right behind him, his loud footsteps marking his passage for anyone paying attention. He was too absorbed in his thoughts and his worry over the woman who bore and raised him, the helpless woman in his arms.

"Bakugou Mitsuki… what happened to your car? Did you rendezvous with your husband?" the hero's voice sounded somehow ominous, deeper than Katsuki remembered it.

"Things… apes…" Mitsuki breathed out. Something had attacked his mother, that much was clear. Katsuki examined her head with his fingers, looking for signs of trauma. Blood trickled down his fingers when he touched the back of her head. The metallic stench of fresh blood filled his nose.

Rage burned inside of him. Those fucking apes… those fucking demons would pay for this!

"Where did you say your husband worked, Bakugou?" Gang Orca asked, his tone more ominous than before.

His mother hesitated, struggling to think.

"Young man, set her down gently. Let's discuss our next moves." The pro hero was unsettled by something, probably by what the monsters had done to Mitsuki, to Katsuki's mom.

"Don't go…" she breathed out, mustering as much of her pathetic strength as she could. Her quiet desperation stirred up Katsuki's heart, filling him with knives of agony.

"Listen to me, young Bakugou, we have to figure out our next move. Let's talk over there…" there was an edge of urgency to the pro hero's voice. Katsuki couldn't figure out what could have the man on edge like this. Sure, whatever monster had done this to his mom could still be out there somewhere…

That was when Katsuki noticed. He'd been blind to it before. His mother was wearing a casual blouse and skirt, the kind she normally wore around the house. It was torn and bloody, but he still recognized it. She had at least three pairs of just this blouse, and at least that many of the skirt. These were the outfits he saw her in the most. The colors would change, but not by much.

Earlier, she had been dressed for work. It was a navy dress-suit. She had taken the jacket off, but her white blouse underneath and navy pants had remained. There was no way she would have gone home, changed her clothes, and then went off to search for his father.

Cold sweat beaded on Katsuki's forehead as the hairs on his neck stood up. Waves of dread traveled up and down his spine, forcing him to suppress a cold shiver. Whatever this was, it was not his mother.

"Mom, it'll be okay," he tried to act the part of a concerned son. It was easy, he told himself. He'd just use the fear and anxiety and try to act up the panic he was feeling over his mother's health. "I'll figure things out, and we'll get you to a hospital."

She placed a hand on his cheek, trailing blood onto his face. "Katsuki… my beautiful boy" was something his mother had never called him. Her battered face, smiling up at him, was still too heart wrenching for him to look at without doubting his conviction. Was this his mother or not?

"Young Bakugou…" the hero pleaded without pleading, his words hiding an undercurrent of urgency.

"Thank you," his mother breathed out, or the thing pretending, he was no longer sure. However, her smile somehow seemed wrong just then.

"Of course, mom," Katsuki sniffled snot back into his nose.

Just then her fingers on his face trailed back to become an iron grip onto his neck. "Thank you for confirming what your mother looks like for us."

Katsuki's blood turned cold at her words. "What?"


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"Damnit!" Eijiro cried out after just barely dodging another discharge of acid-filled ballistics.

Once he ascended the stairs to get within arms reach of the monster, the conflict immediately escalated. It was only thanks to the illusion-clones supplied by Camie that he was able to make it this far, but he wondered if that would be enough.

"Sick claws, bro!" one of the copies said even as another monster slashed uselessly through it.

Yeah, now Kirishima had to contend with two of these things. Unlike the copies, he could get hurt by these monsters, but thankfully he could hurt them back.

"You got this, bro." one of the copies said, not turning towards him, but Eijiro knew that this was Camie's way of encouraging him. She was down below in the stairwell behind him. If he had his way, that's where she would stay, thoroughly hidden away so that she wouldn't be in any real danger.

He didn't want to think about how he'd live with himself if anything happened to her, and that thought had nothing to do with the debt lingering over his soul. He just sincerely worried about her, far more than he was used to. He tried not to think about how his thoughts lingered over her more than they did over Kamui Woods or Yoarishi, or even Iida, the tagalong they had picked up. For some reason, the idea of anything bringing harm to Camie stirred up a deep rage inside Eijiro's soul.

He told himself it was just because she was a hot woman, and defending women was the manly thing to do. That philosophical self-inspection over with, Eijiro charge in.

The only hope that he had of winning this fight was to make it quick. Two opponents against one meant that they could outlast and outmaneuver him. Thankfully, he had plenty of decoys working to confuse them, giving him the chance to make this into an ambush. He'd never heard of an ambush where the defender got to take potshots at the attacker before they came in range, though.

It looked however like these two monsters were dumber than rocks, so he had that going for him. He charged in, hardening his skin into a tough carapace before punching the clawed monster hard across the beak. The thing lost at least two teeth, and that was satisfying.

It replied by raking a claw across his chest, but thankfully his armored skin shrugged that off. Sparks flew where the metallic claws met stone-hard skin. Good, that meant that he could knock this thing out of the fight without too much worry, so long as he kept an eye on its cannoneer friend.

His clothes, however, were getting shredded to bits.

"Hit me with your best shot!" one of his copies cried out as it dodged another volley from the cannon-backed monstrosity. "That thing looks heavy, you need help lifting that thing, bro?" another asked in mock-helpfulness.

It may have been intended at a joke, but it gave Eijiro a dangerous idea. He grabbed up the clawed beast, firmly gripping onto its back. Without giving it a moment to compose itself, he ran headlong into the business end of the cannon just as it was about to fire.

The result could have gone better, but it got the job done.

Acid splattered everywhere after the bomb burst onto the clawed monster's exposed chest. The thing cried out, shrieking in agony as smoke rose from the craterous holes the acid bore into its exposed skin. Eijiro was faring only marginally better, his hardened carapace sizzling and cracking where acid strayed chaotically into small bursts on his arms and back. He was smart enough to duck his head behind the clawed freaks' back, shielding his eyes and the rest of his face from damage.

However, he had to beat at the top of his head to put a fire out. The acid this thing fired caused his hair product to ignite. Or maybe it just lit hair in general. He'd ask Mina about that later.

He shucked his screaming meat shield to the side and moved quickly towards the projectile lobbing beast before slugging it hard enough to crack the beak and blind one of its eyes.

"Just you and me, you bastard! Let's do this!" he yelled, driving more hard punches home.

The monster roared in response, lashing out with a long spiked tail, one that Eijiro had not taken note of before charging in.

"Shit!" he cried out, ducking low to avoid getting his skull crushed. He couldn't help but grin nervously, "Alright fucker let's dance!"


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Things moved amazingly fast just then, faster than Katsuki's mind could keep up with.

Gang Orca roared, thrusting his fist downward past Katsuki's face. The creature pretending to be Mitsuki had to either move or absorb the blow, and it chose to move. Its claws raked across the back of Katsuki's neck and along his jawline, sending a spray of blood outward as the monster rolled from his arms. Rising, the thing sent out a spray of daggers from across the room.

Katsuki turned, wanting to suppress the pain as he lashed out with an explosion to knock the daggers off course. Gang Orca, though, was faster, blocking the attack with his arm and shoulder. The guttural curse under the hero's breath was just as painful to listen to as the gash across Katsuki's jawline was to feel.

All pretense of humanity cast aside; the monster stopped mimicking any sign of injury. Bruises faded. Bones reknit themselves. Blood retreated into cuts and orifices before wounds sealed themselves shut. "So… what was your first clue, hero?" she directed to Gang Orca.

"Simple," the gargantuan man stood at his full height as Katsuki scrambled to his own feet. "There is no reason she would be here, and nothing she could have done that would violate our truce."

The face of Mitsuki smiled a predatory grin. It looked so wrong on her, this alien expression on his mother's face. "Speaking of… you tried to attack me, hero. The truce no longer applies to you."

"What do you want from us? From me? Why are you targeting me?!" Katsuki asked, caught between rage and desperation, between anger at being picked on and the fear that he had unwittingly betrayed his mother. His voice and insides trembled on that precipice between despair and fury.

She smiled at him with his mother's mouth, at her make-believe son. "Honestly? Because these scouting missions get so boring. They play out the same way every time. We elevate a new Prince, we assess local defenses, we take the Prince back, only to return years later once his training is complete. Over and over, it always goes the same way. So, I decided to have some fun… and maybe, just maybe, if you prove amusing enough, I'll make you into my pet. It would be a much better fate than the pits, but I don't know yet if you're worth the investment."

Interceding with his massive body, Gang Orca stood between the two, uncaring that three daggers were lodged into his arm and shoulder. "Don't respond to her. Don't attack her. Whatever you do, no matter what happens to me… don't break that truce, young Bakugou. Don't fall into her trap."

The expression on her face changed to one of disinterested disgust. Bakugou recognized that look. He'd expressed it hundreds of times whenever Deku would stand up for someone. He knew what came next. The bully would pick on the new target, welcoming the renewal of violence that came with fresh meat. The annoyance of defiance would fuel a renewed commitment to carnage.

It made Bakugou's stomach sick to understand her even on that level. In the end, all bullying is the same at the root, it's just a matter of extremity and scale in how it plays out.

The imitation of Bakugou's mother crouched low into a combat-ready stance, the look of disdain and disgust never leaving her face. The face and body, however, did change. Blonde hair melted away into long locks of smooth raven black hair. Lightly tanned skin paled into thick white makeup coating a face of elegance from a bygone era. Casual clothes embellished themselves into a flowing kimono that hid the woman's… no, the demon's thin form.

Both hero and deputy immediately recognized the woman. She had threatened to kill them all from just beyond the light of Izuku's Chrysalis. There was no light between them this time, and there were only two of them.

Mara, Deku had named her back then. The name was stuck in Bakugou's skull.

Iron-blackened teeth reflected the pale green light from the sky beyond the broken window as Mara, the Shadow Lover, bared her teeth. "Let's play, then," she said before darting forward at an alarming speed.


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Eijiro's copies caught on quickly, taking his verbal queue and moving around the long-tailed cannon wielding monster, encircling it and confusing it.

The monstrous beast roared, lashing out with its tail and firing smaller rounds of explosive acid-balls here and there.

"Woo! Good dodge, bro!" one of the illusions said, encouraging one of the others right before the giant tail moved harmlessly through its head.

Eijiro noticed a problem immediately after that. Once the tail moved through one of the illusions, the monster ignored them. It was learning and was doing it far faster than Eijiro was comfortable with. "Camie, we got a problem!" he cried out, which unfortunately got the thing's attention.

"What do you need, bro?" one of the copies asked. Good, she wasn't going to give away her position. He was thankful for that even as he dodged another tail strike.

"Make them feel pain! This thing is learning! Then send reinforcements!" he cried out, and just then, when the tail lashed out, it struck one of the copies, sending the ephemeral copy flying into a nearby wall.

The beast saw that it had inflicted damage and turned to focus hard on the one it perceived at real. Eijiro knew that this was his chance and charge at the ugly monster from the side.

Two more copies writhed in agony while melting from acid. The monster was getting even more distracted. Kirishima reached and grappled hard onto the tail, fighting the muscular appendage with the strength of his muscles and by strategically hardening his body, locking his grip into place.

He couldn't resist it. He had to do it.

"Stop hitting yourself!" he shouted with far more joy than he thought he'd feel while wailing onto the creature's back and exposed brain with the monster's spiked tail. "Stop hitting yourself!" he repeated several more times.

Blood splatted outward where the spikes hit home. No longer distracted, the monster tried to reassert control over its tail again, but Eijiro hooked the end of it into the business end of the cannon. Both were made of the same organic-metal amalgamation and were resistant to the monster's acid.

Flesh ripped and blood poured out from the base of the cannon as Eijiro used himself as a wedge, driving the tail backward while still hooked onto the cannon itself. He was going to rip this fucking thing in half no matter what.

He roared, covered in blood while hardening himself. Even as this thing reared back and lashed out at him, he strained every muscle in his body, prying the cannon off the monster's back. The creature fired haphazardly, the ballistic charged bursting with acid like a fountain at the end of the cannon.

Kirishima's skin was splattered with the foul substance. It smelled like spoiled eggs and felt like his arm and abs were on fire where he had been touched.

"I am unbreakable!" he screamed.

Then the monster went limp. Removing the cannon had severed the beast's spine. "Fuck yeah!" Eijiro cried out, ignoring the cracks in the carapace on his arm and torso. He had done it. He'd won.

He hadn't won without help, though. "Camie! Camie, where are you?" he cried out, suddenly caught between excitement and worry.

He was so high on adrenaline that if she had come to him, wanton and willing, there was no telling what he would have done, what he would have let her do. Already over the heat of battle, his body converted leftover energy from surviving the battle into sexual anticipation.

That, however, is not what happened.

Camie emerged from the behind a corner, her face wet with tears. She was heaving, sobbing, holding onto a parcel like it was a sickly child. One she couldn't save.

"Camie?" he asked as the wind left his sails. Then he saw what she was holding. Tears welled in his eyes.

"I found him… out in the hall, there was a hole to another apartment and…" she couldn't talk after that. She just sobbed.

Kamui Woods was a good man. He deserved better than this.

Eijiro did what he thought was the right thing to do. He held her, gently, even as she held onto the severed head of the hero that had deputized them. He kissed her forehead before pressing his own to hers. Silently, they mourned for the man that had helped them so much and watched over them all.

"We should look for the others," he whispered to her, and she nodded, her forehead rubbing against his.

Later, he would ask himself why he did it. At that moment though, he didn't think about the next hour or the next day. He thought only about the crying woman in front of him, about her sense of loss and uncertainty, and everything they had endured together. He kissed wet tears from just beneath her eye.

As though thirsty to have those tears back, she turned her face to meet his, and the two pairs of lips met. Their lips brushed gently, neither pushing things beyond how somber the moment was.

It's hard to kiss passionately when you're both weeping. So they held each other and cried, neither able to take it all in. Their tears mingled where their faces touched. Water fell from their chins and cheeks as though one river with two tributaries. The river ended where the two held onto the last remains of their guide and teacher, wetting the bark-skin of their fallen hero, Kamui Woods.


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"Stay back!" Gang Orca shouted, ordering Katsuki to keep a tight reign on his combat instincts.

Katsuki wanted to rush forward. He wanted to blow her face off. He wanted to do something, anything, other than just watch. A dark part of his mind told himself: This is what it's like to have someone stand up for you, someone weaker than your bully, but still stronger than you.

The demonic woman toyed with her food.

Every punch that Gang Orca threw, every attack that he sent forward, all of them were dodged or deflected. The woman appeared so frail and helpless next to him, but Katsuki already knew that it was an act. Her expression was one of fear and worry, but it was too exaggerated, too cartoonish to be real emotion.

Her attack was as deadly as it was subtle. She lashed out with lightning speed, missing his face, yet that was intentional. As she withdrew her hand, she ran the tips of her fingers delicately along Gang Orca's jawline. Her fingers curled inward as though bidding him, "Come hither."

The entire hero's body shook, spasmed. His abdomen convulsed, and he coughed blood. "What…" he got out just one word before the coughing resumed.

The way she smiled just then, Katsuki couldn't help but picture a child holding a magnifying glass over an insect, gleefully watching the tiny creature die. "What did you do to him?" he strolled forward, caring less and less about any damn truce.

Mara shrugged apathetically. "I am not as kind as Sondok. He'll die slowly for the next few hours. If he's strong enough, he might stretch it out for over a day."

Bakugou gaped as Whaleface fell backward onto the ground. The gargantuan hero's body went limp, bleeding from deep within his mouth, perhaps from his lungs.

"I am not completely heartless, though." The demon moved toward her helpless prey. Her hand raised, poised to strike down at his prone form.

Bakugou knew a finishing move when he saw one. There was no time to think, no time to figure out what the right move was. Every instinct told him to blow her up, to bombard the smile from her face.

For once, Katsuki acted, but he did not follow his instincts. He defied them. He didn't fully comprehend what he was doing, only that he had to do this, this one insane act, gambling his life on a single move.

He stared forward, unflinching. Bakugou had planted himself firmly in the way of Mara's striking hand, the black energy coiled and writhed around her claw-like hand mere centimeters from his face. He spread his arms outward, using his entire body as a shield.

Her face contorted into something between amusement and rage. "What are you doing, Kacchan?"

Bakugou's lip curled into a sneer. She had worn his mother's face, struck down the hero guiding him, and now she called Bakugou by the one name no one had a right to ever use. No one but Deku would ever get away with that.

"You can't kill me unless I attack first, right?" he barked out, significantly less sure of his bet than he was projecting. "Something about a fucking debt you don't want to get stuck with. Or is it that you just don't want to kill your new pet?"

She regarded him with hungry fascination. "You risked your life to save his when he's going to die anyway. You know that, don't you?" she asked, more curious than angry. She smelled of amber and incense. So close to his, her face seemed thin, gaunt, and her eyes seemed just a bit too large and a bit too hungry.

Bakugou didn't flinch away when she rested her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers traced the grooves and valleys where his muscles met. He ignored those sensations and spoke clearly, staring right back at her. "We're all going to die. We each only get to live for so long…" he had a more eloquent thought in mind, but he didn't think she'd understand the sentiment.

Yet, somehow, the doe-eyed demon-woman caught on. "So, life, even the last fleeting moment of it, each ephemeral second is that precious to you? You, of all people? You, who helped bring us here to this point?"

Bakugou wanted to grit his teeth. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her where she could go fuck herself. Yet he knew that on some level, she was right. "It's too late for me to fix anything, but it's not too late for me to know that I fucked up."

"It's not too late, bro," said an unfamiliar voice, butting into the conversation. "It's never too late to work on your fuck-ups, not while you're still breathing."

The blonde shifted his gaze without moving his body. Across on the other side of the room, through a hole leading to a different apartment, was that fucker with the shitty red hair. He was about as tall as Bakugou and with just as much muscle to boast. His clothes were torn and burnt in places, while drenched in blood in others. It might have been a nice outfit once, but it was trash now. His skin seemed like a hard carapace, with cracks running up and down his right arm. He was drenched in blood.

Over the man's shoulder, he carried what looked like a large brass cannon, yet it was wrapped in bloody meat. The man had a stupid yet endearingly large shark tooth grin, one that looked too friendly for the amount of blood covering his body.

Behind him, a tall stacked blonde, beautiful and thick in all the right places, held what was undoubtedly a severed head. Her face was stained with tears and blood, as were her arms. What the fuck had happened here?

How long had they been there? Did the demon see them before and just not care? There were too many questions in Bakugou's mind, but there was only one pressing thought that cast all questions aside.

"Oh, shit," Bakugou realized that all they had seen or would see was a woman. They didn't know this was a demon.

"Get away! Run, you stupid shits!" he yelled out, fear gripping him in like a snake coiling through his insides. Bakugou held his position, firmly protecting Whaleface with his body, yet now there were even more people that needed to be protected. Fuck!

"Quiet!" the redhead hissed. The muscle headed guy's hair product must've affected his brain. "There's more of those things out there!"

Couldn't they see that the threat was right here?

Katsuki was about to mouth off a sharp reply so they'd finally get the picture. That's when claws ripped through another nearby wall. Roaring, a beaked monster forced its way into the room.

"What the fuck?!" Bakugou crouched into a defensive position, sparks gathering around his palms as he readied to blow the shit out this thing.

No one, not even Bakugou, counted on what an annoyed demoness would or could do. Her light steps sent her across the room towards the thrashing monster. She approached it boldly even as it fully emerged into the room.

"Lady, stop! You're going to…" but the redhead never got to finish what he was going to say.

It was quite a spectacle. A woman in a full traditional kimono versus a hulking monstrosity with an exposed brain and massive claws. It reached for her with clear murderous intent, yet she wove and dodged expertly.

The fight was over in a single strike.

The woman, frail and fragile as she appeared, lunged past the grasping claws and plunged her hand deep into the monster's chest. Muscle and bone tore apart like paper, as though dodging out of her way to avoid angering her. Then she withdrew, and the battle ended.

The monster flailed, gasped, and fell out of the wall and down onto the floor. It's beaked face gazed outward, uncomprehending of what had just happened.

That's not what the three heroic deputies were staring at, though.

The creature's heart, bloody and scarred, beat several times in Mara's outstretched hand. Each beat of the disembodied heart spewed forth blackish blood uselessly onto the floor. Dark coiling energy writhed from all the way back in her wrist to cover the severed organ. The energy swarmed in through loosely hanging blood vessels, torn and open and vulnerable.

Then the heart ignited with ghastly green fire. It quickly transmuted into smoke and ash before dissipating into nothing. The well-dressed women, not to be left soiled by her battle, removed a small napkin from the pocket in her sleeve. The demoness used it to wipe off the soot and blood from her hand. Her efforts to clean herself were surprisingly effective.

"Holy shit… holy shit!" the shitty haired deputy uttered, making sure to put himself squarely between the demoness and the shapely blonde behind him.

For his part, Bakugou was sweating and trying to breathe. How the fuck were they supposed to fight someone who could move like that, whose touch was poison, who could grab up their hearts and just fucking burn them like it was nothing?

The Heian period kimono seemed to repel blood as she walked forward, moving back towards Bakugou. She returned her hand to rest on his shoulder, giving his muscles an appreciative squeeze. "Now, get out of my way, child. The poison is painfully devouring his insides. Let me put him out of his misery."

"Poison? What the hell is going on?" the redhead asked.

"Shut up, shitty hair. I've got a handle on this. You're part of Kamui Woods' team, right? I'm with Gang Orca. This is my department." Bakugou barked back at the other man, even as he remained unflinchingly in Mara's path, never taking her eyes off of her.

A blood-covered mass of muscle moved to stand next to him. He'd never met this guy before, but somehow the guy was willing to risk his life right alongside Bakugou's without even understanding what was going on. Wordlessly, the tall blonde woman moved quickly to examine the fallen hero behind them.

"He's breathing… but…" the woman's voice trembled. "I think he's bleeding into his lungs."

Please stay alive, Whaleface, Bakugou prayed inside.

The smelly blood-covered man spoke up. "Look, I don't understand much of what's been happening, but I literally got back here from another fucking dimension. I've had to rip a monster apart with my bare hands, and I'm hungry as fuck. There are two more members of our team still out there, and we need to find them…"

Just then, a clamorous sound rang out, hollow and deep. All of them could tell that the gonging noise was from far away, yet it was loud enough that it drowned out all other sounds from their senses. Two more times the great bell cried out, wailing across the city. Each time the gong was heard, Mara's fingers dug deeper into Bakugou's shoulder, penetrating his skin with her nails as her strength broke through his flesh.

He didn't cry out. He didn't flinch. Bakugou Katsuki refused to move. No matter how much it fucking hurt, he didn't give her the satisfaction of knowing how much pain he was in.

"Our playtime is over, human," the demoness spoke up, the trailing echoes of the last bell still ringing in their ears. "I am called away to the Prince." Abruptly she let go of Katsuki's shoulder and turned, walking away toward the balcony.

The offhand mention of Deku stirred something, an idea, inside Bakugou. He acted on it before thinking it through.

"Bro… no, bro, don't!" the muscle-bound redhead spoke up, finally understanding the gravity of the situation. Dumbass, Bakugou thought.

"Shut up," he spat out to the side as he moved to intercept her. Disregarding his newest companions, the young blonde strode forward, boldly planting himself in the demoness' way.

Bakugou got straight to the point. "Mara," he addressed her directly. It only now occurred to Katsuki that this was the one person he had never assigned a nickname to. Maybe it because she was the first person that made him truly afraid. "Is there a cure? Can he be saved?"

Her smile was teasingly demure. "Of course, there is a cure," she said. "Why would I help, though?" she batted her eyelashes at him while her voice lilted thickly with curiosity.

Bakugou inhaled deeply. This was harder than he thought it would be. "I'm offering you a trade. You save him… and you get to keep me. You get to take me with you."

The demoness pursed her lips, narrowing them, the narrow strip of lipstick all but disappearing on her whitewashed face. "I have it on good authority that the Prince delved deep into the powers of the Silent Wind and that he cut away many of his emotional ties."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Bakugou asked before he could censor himself, his mouth outpacing his brain.

Her smile was not comforting. "It means the Prince no longer cares about you, which means I can't use you to manipulate him like I first thought I could, and even though you have proved amusing regardless…"

Mara paused, regarding him carefully, but it was disconcerting. Her eyes wandered over him, appraising him. It looked like she was deciding whether to buy a draft horse or not. Bakugou practically expected her to open his mouth and count his teeth.

The demoness leaned in close to him, closer than he was comfortable with. She dripped the words with as much venom as her touch threatened to pour into him. "You have dramatically overestimated your worth. Now, be a good boy and make your hero comfortable while he dies."

She shoved Bakugo hard onto the ground before stamping her foot down onto his neck. Her foot was tiny, a hoof-like extension that applied massive amounts of pressure onto a minuscule part of his neck. His skin bled from the abrasive force she weighed down onto him.

"Bro!" the redhead yelled as he stepped forward, his skin hardening into layers, a tough carapace atop another and another.

"Don't!" Katsuki choked out the word even as move pressure was applied to his throat. His eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe. "She won't kill me…" he said, glaring up at her defiantly.

The demon woman smirked at their little exchange. The bravery and camaraderie on display amused her. "Never, and I mean never, try to barter with me ever again. The next time we meet, there will be no truce, no magic, nothing that will save you from me. And mark these words, child. I will make you regret taunting me from behind the safety of this truce."

With that, she lifted her foot from his neck and delivered a hard kick into his chest. Katsuki watched her go, never taking his eyes from her even as he coughed blood. She vanished into a wisp of sand on the breeze, walking out onto the balcony as she dissipated.

He'd find a way to kill that bitch, he swore it to himself. There were, however, far more important things to attend to now. He tried crawling over to Whaleface, but it was a struggle.

A hand reached down into his view. "Bro… that was manly as fuck."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Katsuki rasped the words out, his throat begging him not to speak.

Leaning on his newfound companion, Shitty Hair, Bakugou made his way over to Whaleface. The man was awake, blinking up at him, but clearly in pain and unable to talk.

"I'm going to have to borrow these, sir," the young blonde took the earpiece and the accompanying wrist-watch. The things were designed for Whaleface's massive head and arms and were ungainly on Katsuki's smaller frame. Still, he made it work.

"This is…" he coughed, sputtering up a smatter of blood from his throat. "This is Bakugou Katsuki, deputy to Gang Orca," he spoke into the comms, glad he got the name right on the first try. "He's down and needs medical evacuation. Is anyone nearby?"

"No, son, we don't have anyone else in that area…" a voice from the Support Corps spoke to him somberly.

Desperate, Bakugou looked down at the wrist-watch, switching on the app that tracked the positions of other heroes. "Uh, Support? My satellite tracker says there's another hero in the vicinity. What about them?"

"Negative, son, that's Ingenium's signal. We don't know who has his equipment, but they can't be relied on…" that was about when Bakugou stopped listening.

"Shitty Hair, you're with me. Curves, you stay with Whaleface and keep him comfortable. Find him some water or something if you can." He walked out onto the balcony where the demon Mara had just left from.

"Bro? What? Do you have a plan?" Shitty Hair asked.

"Somewhere just west of us is either a friend or an enemy, maybe both. We have to investigate because if we don't then that means we're giving up on Whaleface, and I'm not giving up yet," he said. Bakugou wouldn't give up. Wiping some stray sweat from his eyes, he reminded himself that he had a promise to keep.

Even if Deku never knew that Bakugou had made the promise, and never thanked him, he'd keep his word. Bakugou Katsuki would become a better hero than he had been a friend.


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A Note from the Author


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The first chapter of the third and final sub-arc is now released! We're accelerating towards the climax! I can't wait!

The time is upon us. Loose plot threads are getting tied back together!

Thank you to all of you who have show so much love and support for me and my story. Your follows, favorites, reviews, kudos, bookmarks, and comments are all appreciated. At 580 favorites, 726 followers, and 264 reviews on Fanfiction dot net, as well as 264 Kudos, 69 Bookmarks, and 8382 Hits, and 267 Comments (including my replies) on AO3, the outpouring of love has been deeply felt and appreciated. Once again, I want everyone to know that I do reply to every single review and comment. I reply directly to threads on AO3 and reply en-masse to reviews in the review section itself about three days after posting a chapter on FF.

Now I will proceed on to write another viewing chapter or two for The Reflection in the Viridescent Mirror, where canon characters get to see the craziness of My Green Sun Prince Academia. After that, I will write out chapter Twenty-Five: Body-Temple Worship. WARNING: This upcoming chapter will contain lewd acts of a sexual nature with far more graphic language than has been used in prior chapters!