January 16, 2168

2124 Hours

Fireteam Gauntlet no longer existed. With Miyu dead and Nen in a medically induced coma, the team had been labeled "combat ineffective". Like most others that'd lost too many members, they'd been merged together with other remnants to form an entirely new group. From the ashes of Gauntlet and Triumph, Fireteam Phoenix had emerged.

Himiko and Camie had welcomed their new comrade, Thom, with open arms. Sure, he wasn't their original teammate; but he was a Spartan, and Spartans were always there for one another. Phoenix was currently only made up of the three of them, as the doctors announced that Nen could possibly be saved, and thus, reinstated. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Fireteam Triumph. Nyoko, Chikako, and Yasu had all perished during the augmentation, leaving Thom as the sole survivor.

He was handling it about as well as could be expected. Himiko spared a quick glance at him. Or, at least, the outline that her HUD presented her with. All of them were concealed by their armor's active camouflage system on account of being in the middle of an operation. Still, Himiko wanted to remind him that he wasn't alone. That he had a team.

She remembers some of her life before she was chosen to become a Spartan. She remembers the pressure to be normal, to suppress herself, and act just like the rest of her schoolmates. But the Commission was different; they encouraged her behavior - hell, they practically praised it. Mendez-sensei in particular commended her ability to be both horrifically viscous and surgically precise in her attacks. However, the thing that still made her choke up every once and a while, was the way her fellow Spartans had accepted her. Her. Himiko. Not that dull imitation her parents had tried to force her to be.

It was the very thing that made her realize that she would do anything for her friends.

She shifted across the roof they were hiding on and bumped Thom on the shoulder with her own. It was something that the Spartans had come up with years ago during their training. In times where absolute silence was necessary, they'd resorted to using non-verbal ways of communicating. A simple bump or nudge of the shoulder had become their go to method of saying "hey, I'm here for you". Thom managed to give a small nudge back, to show that he appreciated her support, but his focus never left the mission. It was for the best.

Their target - their prey - was completely unaware of the Spartans' presence.

Tatsuyuki Tokoname; though most would know him by his hero name, Slidin' Go. From his appearance to his demeanor, one could immediately tell he was a hero. An impressive physique coupled with positive and compassionate interactions with civilians made it perfectly obvious how he'd done so well in his career. Although he wasn't the highest ranking on the charts, many still sang his praises for all the work he's done. It was the perfect cover. No one would ever guess that he was involved with a massive insurrectionist group whose goal was to overthrow the country.

It infuriated her.

No. It was more than that. Fury, anger, frustration. They were all too tame of a description.

Right now, at this very moment, there were Spartans who were enduring such horrendous agony from their failed augmentations that not even the greatest painkillers in history could completely dull the excruciating sensation. Some of their bodies had been warped to the point that Himiko could hardly recognize some of them, including Nen. Then, there were those who never made it past the augmentations. Those who would never get the chance to fulfill their dreams. They wanted nothing more than to become a Hero. To become that beacon of hope for the innocent. To be the light that shines courageously in the darkness.

Yet here was some asshole who had the audacity to take a shit on the very thing that her friends had died trying to achieve. So yeah, to put it simply, Himiko was eagerly awaiting what they had planned for this fake. But first, they had to catch him.

Search and destroy missions were among Himiko's favorite, and because of their team's Quirk's, Doctor Halsey had told them that they'd be assigned as many as they liked. With her ability to transform, Camie's illusions, and Thom's tracking Quirk, they were the perfect ones for this task.

On her left, Camie made the motion for them to begin. She brought her fist up, raised two fingers, and then pointed them at Slidin' Go.

Move in.

Himiko took off in an instant. She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, always observant of her target, waiting for the right time between each jump. He was currently making his way along a rather empty street, stopping periodically to help or talk with a random civilian. Finally, she landed atop the last building and got into position.

The plan was simple, though that was for the best. Fewer moving parts meant fewer things that could go wrong. What they'd come up with was to have Camie use her illusionary Quirk to draw Slidin' Go into a secluded alleyway. She'd pretend to be a civilian, calling for help. From there, she and Himiko would ambush and subdue the traitor, during which Thom would be providing overwatch from the rooftops. He'd have to look out for any civilians or other heroes that could wander into their operation. Then, they'd transport the fake to a Commission safehouse where they'd interrogate him.

Except that plan was now bust. Slidin' Go went from a casual pace to racing down the street at breakneck speed. His destination seemed to be an alleyway similar to the one that the Spartans were at, but on the opposite side of the street. There must be a commotion in there that caught his attention.

Himiko looked to Camie for orders. The leader of the team hesitated before she ultimately made the motion for them to fall back. It looked like they'd reconvene and try again another time. After all, the night was still young. The decision was likely made easier on account of Thom's Quirk. For the next twenty-four hours, they'd be aware of his every move.

The three of them met up on the original rooftop they started at, where Camie began to lay out the new plan. "Alright, so long as he keeps to his patrol route, then we can just catch him further down the road. Here, this looks like a good place."

A small map of the area appeared on her HUD, with Slidin' Go's patrol route highlighted. An objective marker appeared at an alleyway similar to theirs, but several blocks away. Himiko chewed on the inside of her cheek.

It's just a little hiccup, nothing more. We'll get this fake soon enough.

That's when things took a turn for the worse.

"Something's wrong," Thom said. "He went down, and it doesn't seem like he's getting back up."

Camie responded immediately to this new information. "Both of you, get over there now. I'll take up overwatch."

The two of them leapt off the roof of the three-story building without hesitation. Their boots hit the ground with a dull thud, the impact from the drop doing nothing to hinder them as they took off at full speed towards the alley where Slidin' Go entered. During the middle of the day, when civilians were out in droves, they might have been more apprehensive about breaking their cover to sprint across the street. However, there were considerably less people walking around at this time of night.

A few pedestrians seemed to have noticed them if their startled gasps were anything to go by. If they had more time, they could've used their active camouflage or Camie's illusions to cross the street without being seen. But as it was, time wasn't on their side. For whatever reason, their target was in peril. They couldn't let him die, they needed to interrogate him. If their information was right, Slidin' Go was pretty high up in the MLA's chain of command. There was valuable knowledge to be extracted from him.

It only took a moment for the pair of Spartans to reach the alley. With her penchant for close quarters combat, Himiko took point while Thom directed her to their target's location. Despite their helmets being equipped with night vision and the flashlights attached to their SMGs, the pair had no need for them. The Spartans had discovered early on after graduation that perfect night vision was among their list of augmentations. It gave them that much more of an advantage in situations like these.

It wasn't long until they heard something. A voice; it was low, male, and positively dripping with venom.

"You're nothing but a blight upon society," it sneered. "Real heroes are those who protect the innocent regardless of whatever your ideology is. They're always looking for someone to help, even in the smallest ways possible. There's no place for vanity nor glory or even hatred. You? You're nothing but a fraud. A fake."

Himiko stopped for a split second to process what she'd just heard.

There was someone else hunting MLA operatives? How did they know that Slidin' Go was one of them? In fact, how did they even know about the MLA in general? Has there been a leak in the Commission?

Realizing that they wouldn't get any answers by standing there, Himiko signaled to Thom, then the both of them rounded the corner and brought their SMGs to bear.

"Freeze!" Himiko shouted.

In the center of the open area was Slidin' Go. He lay there on the ground with blood pooling around him; the only sign that he was still alive came in the form of the weak up and down motions his chest made as he struggled to breathe. Standing over him was a man that honestly looked like a trash can full of kitchen knives had come to life. It all finally clicked for Himiko.

This is the illusive Hero Killer, Stain. And with his boot on the traitor's chest and his crude blade poised to strike, he was one move away from killing the person that they needed to capture alive.

Unacceptable. Slidin' Go was their target. Depending on the information they pulled from him, they could save possibly millions of lives. But the situation they were in right now was delicate. Not only was he in a position to end Slidin' Go with a single swipe of the arm, but the Spartans were unaware of what skills he possessed or what his Quirk was. He was certainly dangerous on account of the dozen heroes he'd killed by this point so the two of them would have to proceed with caution.

It was times like these that Himiko found herself just a little bit envious of Fireteam Mythic. With Hitoshi at their side, any hostage situation would be a breeze. As it was, Fireteam Phoenix would just have to adapt. After all, Spartans made due with what they had.

"Akaguro Chizome, you're under arrest," Himiko said slowly. She held her position since she worried that even the slightest of movements would provoke a reaction from the villain. "Lay down your weapons, get on your knees, and put your hands on your head. If you disobey, we will engage with lethal force."

Instead of acknowledging the fact that there were two SMGs pointed at him, Stain chose to run his mouth. "Huh, you must be the so-called demons of the Commission. I was wondering when we'd cross paths. I'll get to you later, I'm busy at the moment."

"Get- get out of here, kid," Slidin' Go wheezed out. "Before he kills you too."

Himiko reels in her disgust as she addresses him. "Tatsuyuki Tokoname, you are also under arrest."

That caught the both of them off guard.

"What?" Slidin' Go weakly asked. "I don't underst-"

"Can it, you fraud," Thom growls. Himiko's surprised, but only for a nanosecond. Of course Thom would loathe him or any other traitor. She knows it won't interfere with his duty. His resolve to be a hero would always outweigh his hatred for a turncoat.

There's a glimmer that materializes in Stain's eyes. It almost resembles the way Mendez-sensei would look at them whenever the Spartans did something perfectly. But the villain's expression seems more… vindictive.

"We know about your involvement with the self-proclaimed Meta Liberation Army," Himiko states. "You're to be brought in for questioning, then imprisoned for your betrayal."

In an instant, Slidin' Go lost any form of composure he previously had. "What! How did you- No, I don't know what you're talking about. I've never heard of this Meta Army or whatever you called it! I- I- I'm innocent!"

As the turncoat sputtered uselessly on the ground, Stain allowed some of the tension in his body to dissipate. He never took his focus away from the two barrels that were unwaveringly pointed at his head, but he was thoroughly invested in whatever was transpiring between the 'demons' and his prey.

As it turns out, the villain's attention was in the wrong place. Just as the Spartans hoped it would be.

Camie - fully aware of the conundrum her team was in thanks to them activating their comms - snuck up behind the villain. She'd gotten so close that if she didn't have her helmet on, she'd be breathing down his neck right now. That's when she acted.

One arm shot out and grasped the hand in which held the sword, while the other formed a fist and impacted the back of Stain's head with just enough force to knock him out. His body collapsed like a sack of rocks, hanging uselessly from the arm that Camie grasped. Beneath them, Slidin' Go gasped - obviously just as shocked by the reveal of another Spartan as Stain would've been. As she looked down on him, the traitor got the feeling that there'd be no chance to talk his way out of this.

When Camie addressed the traitor, there was no warmth in her voice. There was no trace of all the usual compassion or confidence that the other Spartans knew her for. Instead, her tone was cold and promised unimaginable pain should this filth so much as consider the very idea of defying them. "We've got questions for you, and you will answer them."

XXXXX

January 22, 2168

0615 Hours

Rei found recon missions to be rather… peaceful. There was a certain allure to the outside world that he'd never been able to appreciate before. After spending the last six years of his life confined to a single remote island somewhere in the vast Pacific Ocean, the urban setting of Musutafu Ward was a novelty for him. Being able to watch people go about their daily lives, no matter how mundane, instilled a sense of tranquility in him. Rei figured that it might've just been his fascination with seeing new faces. He loved his team, but looking at the same ugly mugs year after year could become grating. Or at least, the ones who were still alive.

Fireteam Chimera - like so many others - had been forged from the remnants of two broken teams. Serin and Daisuke came from Justice, whereas he and Akari originated from Phantom. There were some growing pains at first. Pretty standard stuff. Rei would sometimes catch himself calling out for Sadao - his old teammate - while Serin or Daisuke were to tell some sort of inside joke only to remember that he and Akari didn't know it.

The pain was still there. But it was receding.

However, the most apparent difference had been the switch in command. He had no qualms against Serin's leadership. In fact, he found that he enjoyed certain aspects of it. Sure, she was no Emiko, but that was to be expected. As Mendez-sensei explained, there was no one specific way to become a good leader, so everyone would be different.

That being said, it still took some time to get used to the change. Fireteam Phantom was true to their name; like shadows in the night. Their target never knew they were there until it was too late. Fireteam Justice was proficient in stealth as well - they were Spartans, after all. But more often than not, the element of surprise was considered to be a nifty trick rather than a crucial tactical advantage. It was on their first true mission that they'd come to understand this divergence from their original doctrine when Serin insisted on something she dubbed "Aggressive Reconnaissance".

It'd been an… interesting development in their dynamic.

Their current mission, however, was different. Control had been quite clear that this was strictly reconnaissance. There'd be no fighting or any other sort of action until they'd gathered enough intelligence. They were to stay on this rooftop with their active camouflage on and keep their heads down. Avoid drawing any sort of attention towards themselves.

Their target? The Yakuza.

Yes, the same Yakuza that'd been slowly stumbling into their own grave for the past hundred and some odd years. Apparently, this particular group that they'd been watching for the last week had gone through something of a resurrection over the course of several years. The Commission had suspected that they'd forcefully carved out a place in the local drug trade by killing off their competition. With what Fireteam Chimera had seen, they'd determined that was only part of it.

The real change in the Shie Hassaikai was its new management: Chisaki Kai, otherwise known as "Overhaul". Standing at almost 180 centimeters with a large bird mask and a big, fluffy purple collared jacket, the guy gave off serious "I'm a supervillain" vibes. Under his rule, the previously withering gang had flourished into a criminal powerhouse. Chief among them was his new lieutenants: the Eight Bullets. They had money, they had numbers, they had equipment, and most alarmingly, they had the knowledge to use all of it in tandem.

From the observation devices that they'd managed to place around the compound - Rei freaking loved his SPI armor - they'd discovered that the Shie Hassaikai were making some fancy new weapon that worked opposite of Trigger; a means of eliminating someone's quirk. Not a problem for the Spartans, but it certainly was for any other Pro Hero.

Something that the Commission hoped would apply for the MLA, too. It was certainly a valuable tool. Quirk suppressant technology had been around for years now, but the key downfall was in its name: Quirk suppressant. It only suppressed one's abilities and even then, it did nothing to mitigate someone who was a mutant type. The tactical advantages these weapons could provide was game changing.

So here they were, running recon in preparation for a full-on raid. The goal would undoubtedly be to secure the information on how to create Quirk eliminating weapons - as well as any possible samples - while completely dismantling the Shie Hassaikai. Just another day in the life of a Spartan.

To his left, Akari addressed all of them. "Movement by the eastern entrance."

As Rei and the others shifted their focus towards the area, he made sure his helmet was recording the odd scene that unfolded before them. A little girl with long white hair and a panicked face was desperately running away from the compound. Rei zoomed in so that he could capture her appearance in better detail. He noticed a horn that protruded from her forehead, the ragged clothes she wore, and the plethora of bandages that covered her limbs. Behind her, one of the Shie Hassaikai's men chased after. The whole thing screamed "prisoner".

It didn't take long for the goon to grab her. The child struggled for a bit, but then went limp in the man's arms. Rei was confused; he didn't see him hit or inject her with anything. Was it the villain's Quirk? She seemed to still be conscious, if the frightened look she had was anything to go by.

Once inside, he was greeted by Chisaki himself. Their mouths might've been hidden behind their birdmasks, but the way their heads bobbed up and down made it clear that they were talking.

"Do we have audio?" Serin asked.

"Pulling it up now," said Daisuke.

The internal speakers of Rei's helmet crackled to life as voices started to come through the devices they'd planted.

"-apologize, sir. I only looked away for a moment, but she's fast."

"She certainly is," Chisaki agrees. He turns his attention to the child. "Well, Eri, because of that little stunt I'll be restricting your outdoor time. It looks like you'll have to get used to staying in your room for a lot longer now. As for you…"

He faces his minion once again. "...I'm not one to tolerate failure."

Behind the self-assured safety of their walls, where Overhaul is certain that there's no one to see them, he makes his move. One of his white gloves comes off and he brushes his finger against his subordinate's cheek. The movement is so fast that the henchman doesn't even react.

Then he exploded.

There was no warning. There was no time for him to scream or fight back or run away. One instant, there's an average looking goon standing there and talking to his boss. The next, blood was flying in all directions. It sprayed across the concrete, the grass, the walls, the trees, the other henchman standing around, and even over the girl, Eri. It went everywhere.

No, not everywhere. Rei realizes that not a single drop has landed on Chisaki. Yet he was right there, at the epicenter. That's when Rei puts it together; this is Overhaul, the Quirk. The dossier they'd received had explained that it was capable of manipulating matter at the molecular level. However, it failed to mention that he could turn someone into a liquid with a single touch. They'd have to update the villain's profile. This was something that couldn't be overlooked.

However, Overhaul was about to unknowingly demonstrate another facet of his ability. Rei and his team watched with bated breath as the villain knelt down next to the puddle. With the same hand that'd killed his own minion, he dipped a single finger into the macabre mess. There was a rippling effect through the blood, like a stone being thrown into a lake. In an instant, the henchman had been reformed. He took a deep, shaky breath, but remained completely still otherwise.

From the listening devices that they'd installed, they were able to barely pick up what Overhaul said. "Can't just go around leaving messes everywhere. It's unsanitary."

With that, he turned around and led Eri back into the compound. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She didn't put up any sort of resistance. She was used to this. Up on the rooftop, Fireteam Chimera was processing what they'd just seen.

"That's his Quirk?" Akari asks. He recognizes that cool and steady tone to her voice. It's the one she uses when she's drowning out her shock by hyper-analyzing the situation. He understands fully. No one had been expecting that.

"Yeah," Daisuke says evenly. "This is… this is a lot more serious than we expected."

"Doesn't matter," Rei huffs. The image of the man bursting like a balloon had stunned him. It'd probably haunt his dreams for many nights to come, but the thought of Eri being subjected to that torture for even another second broke him out of his shocked state. "There's a kid down there. She's scared and surrounded by villains. She needs our help."

His words were met with nods of agreement from the others. This was what they'd trained for. This was what six years of training had led up to. Someone right in front of their eyes was in need of saving. There wasn't a chance in hell that they'd fail her.

"We're gonna need some backup for this one. There's a lot more going on here than we initially suspected," Serin concluded. Then, she shifted from serious to downright mischievous. She looks to her teammates. "Don't worry, though. We're gonna make this right. We'll get those weapons and get that Eri girl to safety. As for the top dog himself? I've got something in mind for him."

Rei felt a devious smile creep upon his face.

XXXXX

February 1, 2168

1950 Hours

Mawata parried the villain's punch and counterattacked: a quick jab to the face, a cross punch to the chest, and a powerful uppercut aimed at his center of mass. That was it. Three strikes. A fraction of a second, and yet the damage was catastrophic. The force of her armored gauntlet smacking his hand out of the way broke his wrist, the jab had dislocated his jaw, the cross had cracked a rib, and the uppercut was delivered with such strength that the goon was lifted off of his feet and into the air. He crashed into the ground with as much grace as a falling vending machine.

It was messy.

Behind her, the sounds of fighting came to an end and the chorus of agony induced groans began to rise from the few who were still conscious. Her teammate - Keiichi - called out to the rest of them. "To those who can hear me: don't make any sudden moves. We're coming around to handcuff all of you. Should anyone try to resist, you'll find out first hand just how much we were holding ourselves back."

With Keiichi and Grace watching their backs, Mawata and Aiko went to work. By this point the whole process was routine. In fact, the only thing that broke the monotony was seeing the varying states that each villain was in. Some of them had pretty standard wounds - broken bones and bullet holes - whereas others looked like they'd tried to cosplay as cheap foldable chairs. It was amusing, in a dark and barbaric sort of way. But Mawata knew that there was a method to the madness.

Every beatdown that they inflicted was done with a purpose. Each one aimed to instill a particular sense of dread within villains across the country. It was psychological warfare at its purest. Word would spread amongst the criminal underworld, about entire gangs who were found by the police in various states of suffering. Everything from the mundane to the downright savage. Even the most wicked of fiends would think twice before carrying out any more nefarious plans.

It was something that's already taken effect after their very first mission, Operation: Nightcrawler. Rumors had spread like wildfire, mostly due to the extraordinary fear portrayed in the gang members. One could easily pick up on the horror in any of their eye-witness accounts.

In fact, actually fighting small time gangs like this one had become something of a rarity. Between the last seven groups of villains that they'd been sent after, less than half of them had decided to fight back. The others simply threw up their hands as soon as they figured out that there were Spartans in their base. But the most impressive thing? None of those gangs were in Ryloth City - the city where Operation: Nightcrawler had taken place. Some of the cities they'd been in were almost a hundred kilometers apart.

Word had traveled fast. Word had traveled very fast and very far.

Mawata swiftly cut off her own train of thought. She couldn't afford to think about such things right now, not while they were in the middle of a mission. There'd be time to relax when they were safe and most certainly not in a building occupied by enemies.

After securing all of the villains in the room, the team moved out into the hallway of the abandoned building. There was one last place they had to check before they'd completely cleared the structure: the loading dock.

At their pace, it wasn't even a minute away. The building they were in now was nowhere near as expansive as the one they'd raided back during Nightcrawler. There were also fewer goons here and they were a lot less dangerous than the ones they'd faced back then, too. Now that Mawata thought about it, she wasn't sure if the villains were getting easier, or the Spartans were getting better. She decided that it was a little bit of both.

Finally, they reached a door with a glowing sign "LOADING DOCK" above it. They breached it and scanned the room for even the slightest hint of trouble. It was as they were half way into the room that their motion trackers lit up. A large red blip materialized on the very edge of their range, though it was moving towards them at a quick pace. A loud, booming voice called out to them from where the villain supposedly was, which was behind a seemingly innocuous wall.

"Ya fucked wit da wrong crowd dis time, ya lil' shits!"

And with that, an absolute behemoth of a man burst out from the concrete. Every member of Fireteam Legacy was tall - well over two meters - but this guy stood at least another half a meter over them, with mountains of muscles bulging from underneath his clothing. His face was twisted into a gleeful sneer with blood red eyes that promised death for anyone he could get his hands on.

The closest to him - Grace - opened fire. Her SMG barked as the stream of 5mm rounds sailed into the villain's kneecaps in an attempt to non-lethally neutralize him. However, unlike all the other goons that'd crumpled to the floor after a similar attack, the hulking giant simply tilted his head back and filled the loading dock with raucous laughter.

"Yer gonna hafta do better than dat!"

He sprinted towards the center of their formation, right to the one that'd dare to shoot him. The rest of the team squeezed off as many rounds as they could, but his size did nothing to portray his speed. For someone that had to be closing in on two hundred kilos, he was deceptively fast. His tree trunk sized arm swiped at Grace, but she dodged the strike and leapt out of his way.

Keiichi's voice crackled over her comms. "Bulldog!"

Just like Mendez-sensei said: if bullets aren't working, you're just not using the right type of ammunition. Mawata attached her SMG to the magnetic holster on her thigh plate and reached for the weapon on her back: the CQS48 Bulldog. It was a magazine-fed, pump-action, 12-gauge shotgun that could be loaded with just about any ammo variant that'd been manufactured. This particular one happened to be loaded with 00 or "double-ought" buckshot - a rather powerful cartridge.

"Ya know who we are, huh? Ya know who I am! I'm da fuckin' SKULLCRUSHA!"

With everything she'd seen, Mawata was able to reach a decisive conclusion regarding the giant in front of her. This guy's a freaking loon.

With his back turned to her and his attention solely focused on maniacally ranting to them, Mawata calmly took aim. They had to have dumped four magazines into the giant already and yet he took no notice of it. As far as she was concerned, they'd given him plenty of opportunities to settle this without causing too much harm. She wasn't willing to take a chance with any of teammates' lives. Mawata was going to put Skullcrusha down. Hard.

In contrast to the M7S, which used smaller bullets and had a suppressor affixed to the barrel, the sound of the Bulldog going off was absolutely thunderous. The differences didn't end there, either. As opposed to the pistol caliber rounds that were bouncing off his natural armor, the buckshot hit with enough force to knock him off balance. The first shot impacted right between his shoulder blades, causing the villain to lurch forward. The second and third slammed into the small of his back, while the last four landed at various other points. By the time all seven shells had been spent, the villain was on his knees and breathing heavily.

As it turned out, he wasn't finished. Rather than screaming in pain or begging for mercy like Mawata had expected, the villain let loose a hearty laugh. He jumped to his feet and dramatically turned around to face her. "HAAA ha ha ha ha! That actually tickled, squirt!"

He didn't look any worse for wear.

Keiichi's voice once again crackled over her comms, though Mawata could guess that this time it was addressed to everyone. With the amount of spite that radiated from his tone, she didn't need a telepathic Quirk to tell that he was done with the villain. "Fuck him up."

They readily complied.

Being the fastest of the group, Mawata was able to make the first strike. Skullcrusha had seen her coming and had just enough time to throw a wild haymaker towards her head. She ducked under it with ease and delivered the most ruthless punch she could muster towards leg, right into his inner thigh. The villain dropped to one knee, a grimace now etched into his face, though he was far from defeated. He cocked his arm back in preparation to throw a punch at her. That's when the rest of her team entered the fray.

Aiko latched onto the arm that was posed to deal a devastating strike while Keiichi grasped the other one. Together, the two of them kept the villain from getting back on his feet. Grace came in from the side and sent a monstrous looking hook punch into the gigantic villain's cheek. His head snapped to the side with a couple of teeth and blood shooting out as well, but he didn't seem to lose any of his seemingly limitless vigor. Mawata aided her teammate by throwing a powerful cross punch at his jaw and was rewarded with the sound of bone cracking. But again, he shrugged it off. He yanked his left arm in an attempt to free it, so Grace followed up with her own cross, to which Mawata threw a hook.

Cross, cross, hook, cross, hook, hook, cross. On and on it went until Mawata - intrinsically aware of Grace's position - moved out of the way. She was treated to a front row seat as the largest member of her team moved in close and spin side kicked the villain square in his chest. The blow forced the air from his lungs and sent him sailing several meters through the loading dock and onto his back. He didn't get up after that.

The sound of glass clinking against concrete reached her ears. On the ground, just a few meters away, a small syringe rolled around. It must've fallen from Skullcrusha's pockets during his impromptu flight. Aiko moved diligently towards it. With great care, she picked it up and examined it.

"Trigger," She clarified. "Looks like he juiced himself up right before he went all Incredible Hulk on us."

"This - ugh - this innit over, demons!" The villain called out from his position on the floor. The team immediately got into a fighting stance, but once they realized that the only thing moving was his mouth, they eased up a bit. "Ya think yer safe? Ya think yer strong? Ya ain't seen nothin yet! We're wit da League 'emselves!"

Aiko's head tilted slightly to the side. More than likely, she was just as astounded as Mawata was that the guy could still form words. "The League?"

"HA ha- gah! That's right! Da League… of… Villains," he trailed off. The goliath of a man finally succumbed to the pain and fell into unconsciousness.

"The League of Villains?" Grace asked incredulously. "It's a little on the nose, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but even the dumbest of villains can get lucky sometimes. I'll make sure to inform Control," Keiichi warned. He brought his SMG up to eye-level so that he could examine it. His expression might've been hidden behind the golden faceplate, but Mawata knew that disdain marred his features. "In the meantime, we seriously need to update our arsenal."

XXXXX

February 4, 2168

1950 Hours

Aizawa Shota leaned forward, certain that he misheard his employer. "I'm sorry, it must be my old age creeping up on me. Can you explain that to me again?"

"Don't be so dramatic, you're only thirty," Principal Nezu replied cheerfully. "Like I said, all I want you to do is get in contact with the so-called 'demon heroes' of Japan. Establish a connection with them. See if you can get their contact information, if you can!"

"Ok… why?"

"Because I'm curious, of course!"

"About what?"

"About them!" Nezu proclaims as if it should've been obvious. Understanding that his employee wasn't following, he brought his hands together and elaborated a bit more. "You see, I've been keeping tabs on them ever since their debut back in December and I must say, they're quite fascinating!"

Aizawa simply raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Indeed! For instance, did you know that in the past month alone, the Number Three Hero: Hawks has teamed up with them on no less than four separate occasions? Hawks! The hero who doesn't even slow down enough to let his own sidekicks support him, let alone work with others! Before these new heroes showed up, he'd denied any team-ups recommended. It didn't matter who they were, from the most experienced veterans to the newest rookies looking to work with a big timer."

"Alright," Aizawa said with a shrug. "Sure, that's unusual, but why does that make it as fascinating as you say?"

"Because not only do they work together constantly, they do so with remarkable effects. Every time they've teamed-up, the city they were in experienced on average a twelve percent drop in criminal activity. Some cities reported as much as twenty. That kind of synergy doesn't pop up overnight. It implies that they share a strong, personal bond. Something that's been forged over both years and trials of life. They trust one another."

"Hmph," Aizawa grunts. "Alright, I'll admit, that is pretty interesting. Tell you what; you tell me why you really want me to go after them, and I'll agree to keep my eyes out. Deal?"

"Absolutely!" Nezu declares. The smile never leaves his face, even when he starts speaking again. "You see, Hawks was purchased by the Commission before he was even ten years old and forced to become a child soldier-hero combination. It stands to reason that the bond he shares with the demon-heroes is based on shared trauma. As such, I'm led to believe that despite their phenomenal track record, these new heroes have faced similar abuse by the Commission."

"...what."

Nezu - smile still on his face - rests his chin on his hands. "What do you mean, what?"

Aizawa is cool. Aizawa is collected. Aizawa is calm. Aizawa. Is. CALM. "You just said… that Hawks… was purchased as a child. Raised by the Commission to be their pet hero; and that the demon-heroes that everyone's been talking about have likely gone through the same thing."

"Indeed, I did!"

"...How did you figure this out?"

The smile finally fell from Nezu's face. Aizawa knew that when the chips were down, the principal would always take the wellbeing of his fellow heroes deadly serious. "Well, that's been a long time in the works."

Aizawa knew that was code for "this is going to take a while, so get comfortable".

"You see," Nezu began. "It all started not long after his debut. He's such a talented hero, it was no wonder that he climbed the leaderboards so fast. I was in awe of his abilities, so I did an extensive search of his history to see what helped mold him. What I found was a decade old news article about a boy who saved the lives of dozens of people during a major traffic collision and then silence. Nothing, until his debut. And I do mean, nothing. No enrollment of any schools, no social media, no other instances of him saving anymore people."

"And the parents?"

"Somehow, shortly after the article was posted, they acquired an impressively large sum of money and moved out of the country. Without their son."

Aizawa leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. Nezu thankfully stayed silent, aware of how much he'd just dumped on the teacher.

Without looking up, the underground hero spoke in a soft voice. "Alright. I'll find them."