Author's Note:

Izuku - Mythic One

Hitoshi - Mythic Two

Mei - Mythic Three

Will - Mythic Four

Chapter 15

February 28, 2168

1400 Hours

Aizawa Shouta, otherwise known as Eraserhead, the Erasure Hero. His Quirk - Erasure - gave him the ability to stop people from using their own Quirks by looking at them, provided it's not a mutant type. There's no limit to how many Quirks he can erase, though it does reset every time he blinks. He's 30 years old, 183 centimeters tall, and approximately 77 kilograms. Although quite the exceptional underground hero, his current occupation placed him full-time at the prestigious UA Hero Academy in Musutafu, Japan. Local police forces would still request his aid in certain cases due to his expertise.

Izuku reread the entire document to look for anything that might've escaped him. He didn't have to. His augmentations granted him the ability to consume and process information at a rate far above the average human, even in this modern age of Quirks. But his training demanded that he double and triple check himself. Every detail they found opened the door to a dozen new opportunities on how to solve a problem. That's why he was sifting through every form of intelligence on Eraserhead that he could get his hands on. News articles and police records were good, though having a professionally crafted file on each Pro Hero in all of Japan did absolute wonders.

Since everyone in the country had to go through the HPSC in order to obtain their license, they'd developed extensive portfolios on all of them. Especially over the past few years, when they'd discovered the threat of the MLA. After Hawks practically guaranteed that they'd be seeing Eraserhead again, Izuku intended to memorize every available piece of data they had on him. It was a situation which had been met with… concern, by some at the Commission.

"So do you like to live on the edge or do you just enjoy giving all of us fucking heart attacks?" A Commission agent asked.

"I like to think of it as 'taking the initiative'," Hawks responded coolly. Apparently, he'd - once again - taken some liberties that weren't granted to him.

How shocking.

"Hawks, please, try to acknowledge Agent Inoue's concerns," Yokumiru Mera asked. Officially, he was Hawks' "Handler". What that translated to was playing damage control for the Wing Hero. The Board had already reprimanded him thoroughly, but there were other Commission personnel - mostly agents - who still wanted to give him a piece of their minds. "Not everyone is privy to your… unorthodox methods."

Izuku knows that had their favorite resident Pro Hero been a Spartan, the word insubordination would've been circling around the Commission. But that was just one more difference between Hawks and them. Despite all the missions they did together, he technically wasn't under the Commission's command structure. He was supposed to be an independent entity. Of course, this wasn't truly the case. Hawks still relied heavily on the funds the HPSC provided him with. Not just that, but he was given access to all of their supplies, intelligence, and safehouses.

That being said, Hawks is allowed to operate with far more autonomy than they did. He could go on whatever mission he wanted with as little of a reason as "because I was in the area". He was allowed to run his own agency and hire his own staff and sidekicks so long as they were first vetted by the Commission.

Sure, Spartans were allowed some leeway when they were in the field, but there were still parameters that'd been established. No communicating with individuals outside the Commission unless absolutely necessary. When talking with someone, they had to confirm their identification and ensure their security clearance level was high enough to ensure they didn't discuss classified topics. No interacting with the public: that meant they weren't allowed to take photos or give autographs.

None of it really bothered Izuku. If Control said "jump", he'd ask "how high". As far as he was concerned, these were necessary precautions. Loose lips sink ships, as Mendez-sensei explained. The only part that irked him was how they couldn't interact with the public. But that was certain to change once they were officially revealed.

"You were supposed to keep him off our backs and yet, somehow, you've done the complete opposite!"

The plan had been simply enough. Eraserhead had been tracking the Spartans throughout the Shizuoka Prefecture for weeks now. Control had decided to send an agent, alongside a team of Spartans, to confront the Pro about. They'd intimidate him into leaving them alone; though if that failed, then they'd drop some misleading information in an attempt to send him on a wild goose chase. It'd give Control time to come up with a more definitive way of dealing with him. When Hawks had heard of this, he'd immediately volunteered.

The trouble-maker in question let out a groan, but he seemed to decide against antagonizing the agent anymore. "I already told this to the Board; Eraserhead is way too valuable to just give him the runaround. He's got experience and he's also got influence. The guy might be camera shy, but you'll have a hard time finding a Pro who doesn't respect him."

"Yeah, that's great and all, but you seem to be forgetting that his boss is the rat himself."

Ah, yes. There was one other thing concerning Eraserhead. One particularly crucial detail that Doctor Halsey and the Board of Directors themselves impressed upon all of Fireteam Mythic as soon as they returned to Headquarters. He was in direct contact with the principal of UA: Nezu.

From his file, Nezu was a creature of unspecified origin; though, the term "chimera" was used in several instances throughout the document. He was barely taller than Izuku's knees and his weight was negligible. He posed little harm in terms of physical confrontations, however, that wasn't the reason why the Commission was so wary of him. His Quirk, High Specs, enhanced his intelligence and perception to a point that was unmatched in all of Japan. Possibly the entire world.

Now, despite all that, the average person didn't have to worry. In fact, Japan undeniably benefited from Nezu. His talent has been focused exclusively on the development of new heroes at his academy and it shows. More than half of the top one hundred heroes on the Billboard Chart are alumni of UA. Not a figure to scoff at, for sure.

There was one problem. Nezu held a certain amount of animosity for just about every form of authority. In some cases, it was more along the lines of outright antagonism. The HPSC had taken measures to avoid becoming a part of the latter, since having the smartest being on this side of the planet hate your guts wouldn't help their continued existence. Doctor Halsey said that in no uncertain terms that the Spartans were to keep every possible detail of their background a secret. When it came to the principal of UA, they were simply told to avoid him at all costs.

They weren't afraid about his involvement with the MLA. In fact, all of their information concluded that there was no way he - or any of his staff - would support the organization. No, the Board was afraid that even the slightest peep from any of them would clue the principal into the origin of the Spartans. It was as if they feared that just being within eyesight of Nezu would tell him everything he wanted to know.

"Honestly," says Hawks, "I think that just sweetens the deal."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you are just a mad man, aren't you?"

Noticing how the conversation was only devolving, Izuku decided to speak up. "Agent Inoue."

The agent spared one more glare at Hawks before giving the young Spartan his undivided attention. "Sir?"

It was still strange, working alongside the agents. He didn't know them as well as his Spartans, or even the instructors for that matter. The interactions between the two groups had been awkward, to say the least. Some of them were able to get along easily enough - like Will - while others did their absolute best to avoid them - like Jai. Until more time had passed and they were more comfortable with one another, Izuku decided he'd keep it professional.

Of course, he'd learned that smiling could help ease tensions, so he gave the agent the most well-meaning smile he could muster as he spoke. "It's best to stay calm when talking with Hawks. He… enjoys making you suffer."

Inoue went quiet for a while after listening to him. Then he cleared his throat. "I understand, sir. Hawks, I like to-"

With a roll of his eyes, Hawks cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Thanks for ruining the fun, Izuku. Look, we're going to have to interact with UA at some point. Whether that be Nezu, the staff, or their students. It's inevitable. Because of that, I think we oughta make the best of it! UA has a lot to offer us in this fight. Sure, we'll have to be cautious. We don't want any sensitive information getting out, obviously. But they have some absolute legends over there. The Spartans are strong, but wouldn't it be nice to have some back-up?"

If his widened eyes were anything to go by, then Agent Inoue seemed to finally understand now. He quickly - though sincerely - apologized to Hawks and went back to working on whatever case he'd been researching before they'd come in.

Izuku could've stopped this long ago had he just ordered the agent to drop it. Any of the Spartans in the recreation room could've. In terms of hierarchy, they outrank all but the most senior of agents. It wasn't a good idea to have a young and inexperienced junior operator in control of a team of hyper-lethal hero-soldiers. But he didn't want to cause any friction between the two groups by pulling rank whenever there was a scuffle. Instead, he'd opted to wait and let them talk it out; albeit with a few nudges in the right direction.

After a few moments, Hawks and Mera took a seat at the table where Izuku was. The other members of Fireteam Mythic were scattered amongst the room.

Hitoshi was playing a hand of cards with Fireteam Legacy, Mei was modifying the new devices they'd been given at a temporary workbench, and Will was chatting and spotting for a different agent while he lifted weights. They'd been ordered to take some time off after five days straight of successful missions and patrols. Contrary to what the Commission wanted the larger populace to believe, Spartans did require rest. They simply didn't need as much as a normal person. Izuku found that he could go days without sleep and still operate at peak efficiency. It was just another facet of their augmentations.

"How'd suspension go?" Izuku asked.

"Eh, I've been through this song and dance with them a dozen times over," Hawks grumbled. "They put me in time out for a few days, make me promise to be on my best behavior, and then throw me back out into the jungle. They'll never sideline me for long, though. I'm too good at getting results."

Mera went to correct him, but immediately stopped upon realizing that what he'd said was essentially the truth. He slumped back into his chair and decided to allow the conversation to play out.

Izuku chose to hum in agreement. "So, when are we meeting Eraserhead again?"

"Tonight, if I get my way. Would you be up for it?"

Always. "Let me check with the rest of the team. Mythic, form up!"

They each made their excusals and hurried over.

"What's the situation, boss?" Will asked.

"Hawks wants us to go on a mission tonight with his new pal, Eraserhead. How do you all feel about cutting our R and R a little short?"

Their grins were infectious.

"I think you've got your answer," said Izuku.

"I didn't expect anything less," Hawks said. "And remember…"

There was a hint of sincerity in his tone that few ever witnessed. "Let me do all the talking. Without a doubt, he's going to report everything that happens tonight back to Principal Nezu."

February 28, 2168

2030 Hours

"Eraserhead! Gosh, it's been too long, man," Hawks said cheerfully. Aizawa noticed that the smile he had this time was genuine from the start. In fact, it appeared to be far more amiable than the wild looking one he'd had last time.

This immediately put him on edge. "I guess," he replied in a dull manner.

"Oh, don't be like that. You're the one that wanted to hang out, after all!"

Actually, he hadn't wanted to "hang out" at all. The only reason he was indulging the mischievous little shit was because it was the best lead he had for his investigation. Also, because if Nezu was correct - which he normally was - then the Hero in front of him had been sold to the Commission by his parents like some sort of prize animal. Before he was even ten years old.

He might be a pain in the ass, but Aizawa figured that he could cut the guy some slack. "Yeah, I did. So then… what's the plan?"

"The plan? Can't we just take the time to chat? You know, catch up with one another? Ask how the kids are, how's work going, if we've done anything interesting."

"Neither of us have kids, I have to deal with hundreds of hormonal, angsty teenagers on a daily basis, and I had to sit through a four hour long meeting with the newest staff member who - in my personal opinion - doesn't have nearly enough of the qualifications required for his role."

"Is All Might really that bad?"

"Of course you guys already know who our secret teacher is."

"I mean, it was kind of obvious; as long as you know what to look for. He's been cutting back on hero work, like, a lot. Whenever he's been out and about for the past year or two, it's almost always been around the Musutafu area. The place which happens to be the location of his alma mater: UA. And he's already alerted the Commission that he's planning to semi-retire in order to pursue a new career," Hawks explained. "When you put all of it together, then, well, it sorta just makes sense."

"I… yeah. It sure does," Aizawa agreed lazily. Between the aforementioned oaf of a new teacher and the sporadic children he had to wrangle, he was already wiped out. "Look, can we just… get back to the topic at hand? It's been a long week."

Golden eyes pierced into his own with a slightly disturbing amount of intrigue. "Oh, what the hell. The best friendships are usually formed through adventure, anyway. Come on, I'll show you where we're going. The others are already there."

"The demons?"

"You know that's not what they're called, right?"

"Well, it's not like the Commission has acknowledged their existence yet, so we don't really have anything else to go with."

"Hmm. Point."

The two of them continued to travel along the rooftops for a few beats of silence. Until. "Spartans. They're called Spartans."

Aizawa kept his eyes forward, still moving, as he questioned the other Pro Hero. "Why the hell would you just tell me that? Aren't you supposed to be making me work for the answers or something?"

"You are working for them. You're taking time out of your day to deal with my bullshit after you yourself just explained how shitty of a week it's been. Besides, it's not that big of a reveal. The Commission knows that they won't be able to keep them hidden forever. They'll announce them here in the next year or two. I figured it wouldn't hurt if I spoiled the surprise for you."

"Okay, what the hell is your angle? Why are you even humoring me with all of this?"

"Isn't that what friends do?" Hawks asked cheekily.

Aizawa scowled. "We're not-"

"Sir."

His mouth slammed shut as he almost tripped over himself. Not even a meter away from the teacher, a De- a Spartan was crouched in the shadows. Their sci-fi looking golden visor was staring right at him.

Where the hell did he come from? It took him a few moments to remember Nezu's theory about active camouflage.

The spartan continued where he left off, this time more softly, "I'll need you to keep your voice down. We don't want to let anyone know we're here. Villain or civilian."

Hawks watched their interaction with a maniacal cheer. In a hushed tone he called out. "Eraserhead, I thought you teachers didn't encourage shouting while in class. It's best if you use your inside voice here."

Despite his immense efforts, Aizawa was unable to glare a hole into the Wing Hero's head. He shifted his focus. "Sorry… Mythic Team?"

He was fairly certain that was what Hawks had called them at the end of their last meeting. It wasn't that odd to have a group name. There were plenty of heroes who went by their team names along with individual hero names: the Wild Wild Pussycats were one such group. Nevertheless, the crouching giant stayed silent.

"That's them, alright," Hawks confirmed. "Don't be so cold, Mythic. Go ahead and say hello!"

One by one, the teacher was able to make out the rest of the team. However, the other three weren't paying any attention to him. They were looking out into the distance, all in different directions. It seemed like they were keeping watch despite how calm the night was. There wasn't sight nor sound of trouble anywhere near them and yet they were unwaveringly focused on maintaining discipline.

I guess that's what happens when your childhood is replaced with a decade of non-stop training, he thought. Nezu theorized that if their situation was anything like Hawks', then the Spartans had been taken somewhere around the age of eight. From there, they'd undergo some - as of yet - unknown regimen to become the absolute juggernauts that they were. Once they'd reached adulthood, they were sent off into the world to become the Commission's boogeymen.

The green and gold bulbous helmet of the first Spartan stayed trained on Hawks for a few more seconds before it turned to regard him. It reminded him of the outfit used by his fellow hero, Thirteen, though far sleeker and more dangerous looking.

Aizawa thought they might've been male, but it was hard to tell from their voice alone due to him using the speakers of his helmet. He didn't say anything this time, though. Instead, the Spartan held up two fingers and dragged them horizontally across his visor, near where his mouth likely was.

Hand signals? He thought. What the hell have they been teaching them?

"It's how they say hello. Kind of. Think of it as their way of expressing happiness."

"He couldn't just say that?"

"They're pretty strict about staying silent while on a mission. Plus, it's kind of hard to read body language under all that armor."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he grumbled. "So, are you gonna tell me the plan now?"

The Wing Hero's smile grew by an order of magnitude. "Oh, it's simple! We're gonna start small tonight and do a little nightly patrol of the ward. Standard hero stuff: knock around a few thugs, catch a purse snatcher or two, scare a graffiti artist, and all that other good stuff. Think of it as one of your team building exercises you organize in your classes."

"A way for us to get to know each other while still keeping it professional…"

"Got it in one! Now onto the important stuff: getting to know your new partners. After all, it's for the best that you know who you're talking to."

He pointed towards the Spartan who'd 'greeted' the teacher earlier. He was still staring at the two of them. Silently. Motionlessly.

Is he even breathing?

"That's their leader, Mythic One. You can tell who he is because he's the shorty of the group."

"That's their hero names? Their team and a number?"

"Spartans are more along the lines of agents than Pros. At least, for the moment. We'll cross that line once they're officially announced."

Odd, but certainly not the strangest thing he'd come across regarding the new heroes.

"Anyway, next up is that guy there, Mythic Two. The only real way to tell him apart from the rest is the set of hand cannons he's sporting. He's also the most standoffish of the group."

He wanted to say that every Spartan had been noted as being standoffish, but opted for simply humming in acknowledgement. "Hmm."

"Mythic Three is the tech-gal. She's the one carrying a crap-ton of gear: grenades, rocket launchers, threat sensors, and enough other gizmos to supply an army."

Did he say rocket launchers? Aizawa was easily able to identify her. True to Hawks' word, her armor was covered in pouches filled with spare magazines and all other sorts of tech with unknown purposes.

"Then there's the big guy. The really big guy. That's Mythic Four. Can't miss him."

Out of the corner of his eye, Aizawa noticed the Spartans moving. They rose to their full heights and he had to admit that it was impressive. The smallest of them - Mythic One - stood a dozen centimeters taller than UA's largest staff member. At least until All Might officially joins in April.

Mythic Four was a different story. He towered over Aizawa and Hawks. There was no doubt in his mind that the giant could probably look the Number One Hero in the eyes.

Their leader nodded at Hawks, who nodded back. Then the four of them took off into the night. Just a few more shadows against the backdrop of the city as they leapt from building to building. The two Pros were quick to follow their lead and catch up.

Aizawa was able to track them for a little while, but after a while they practically turned invisible. He had to rely on Hawks to guide him to wherever they were going. Whether he was actually able to see them or his golden visor had some sort of feature that allowed him to view the team, Aizawa wasn't sure. Well that confirms Nezu's active camouflage theory…

"They're good," he complimented. It was proving to be a hell of a workout to keep up, but he'd pushed himself harder plenty of times before. Besides, traversing rooftops just so happened to be a speciality of his.

Hawks scoffed. "Well, that's an understatement."

"I hope all these skills I've been hearing about are helping in some form. Have there been any casualties among them?"

"Haven't you been watching the news? Spartans are invincible!" He quietly exclaimed. "They slap bullets out of the air, jump over buildings, and can kill a person just by looking at them!"

"..."

"Okay, fine, maybe that last one wasn't true," he said languidly.

Aizawa shuddered. What?

Then the hero turned to the teacher with an earnest expression. "But believe me, they're still head and shoulders above almost everyone else out there."

Aizawa noticed this shift in demeanor and tried to capitalize on it. "You seem pretty proud of them."

"It's just the truth, friend. I'm glad to be on the same side as them. Anyone who isn't… Well, I almost feel sorry for them."

"They're that strong?"

"Oh yeah," he drawled.

"Stronger than All Might?"

"Eh. Individually, no. But if you get enough of them together, they'll accomplish anything."

"And just how many of them are there?"

Hawks merely put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at Aizawa. You're asking too many questions, was what it implied.

Or perhaps he wasn't asking the right ones.

"There's enough," the Wing Hero remarked.

"I imagine that they're all pretty unique, huh?"

"Well, they each have their own ways of standing out," he said fondly.

"What about them? Mythic team? What makes them stand out?" He asked. This was something that Aizawa was familiar with. It was like talking about students with the other teachers. Every year had their fair share of unique individuals: the gifted ones, the competitive ones, the problem children, the ones who needed help, and on and on it went. It was a normal topic in the teachers' lounge.

"Gremlins…" he muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said their teamwork is something else. I mean, every team is incredible, but they're just… they each bring something special to the table, you know? Phenomenal leadership, creative problem solving, and combat skills are only the beginning. From bleeding hearts and mad scientists to walking tanks and government sponsored sociopaths, they've got the whole gambit."

Aizawa knew that he should've been worried about that last one, but he'd met his fair share of unique Pro Heroes. Every last one of them was worth their weight in gold, so he figured he'd let it slide here too.

He was nearly content to let the golden-haired hero continue speaking. After all, he'd heard similar things said by almost every teacher he'd met. They all had a group of students that they couldn't help gushing about. However, there was one thing he'd noticed had been left out.

"No mention of their Quirks?"

Hawks huffed. "Eh."

"Eh?"

"I don't always agree with the eggheads at the Commission, but they are right about something: our generation's too reliant on Quirks. Don't get me wrong, they're a treasure for sure, but teamwork and the right skillset can overcome any obstacle. Quirks are just another tool in their arsenal"

He was surprised. Aizawa agreed that Quirks weren't everything to being a Pro, but the Commission had a record for scoping out people with powerful ones that they could exploit. Hell, Hawks was a living testament to their obsession. So, what was the change? "Is that so?"

His lips formed into a dark smile. "You'll be seeing them in action tonight. Why don't you let me know what you think after all's said and done? I'm certain that-"

The hero cut himself off as his hand snapped to the earpiece of his headset. Aizawa realized that he must've been using it to communicate with the Spartans. He was silent for a second. Then a wicked smile formed upon his face. "We've got something. Come on, let's go!"

Hawks took off in a flash and Aizawa kicked it into high gear. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the adrenaline surged through his body. It was time to see the Spartans in action.

Hawks swooped down out of his vision, likely going towards the streets. Aizawa followed suit and leaped off the side of the building. He snapped his capture scarf out to the side where it latched onto the railings of a fire escape. Descending at a far less dangerous pace allowed him to view the scene in its entirety.

Hawks and the Spartans had already engaged a group of villains who'd seemed to be in the middle of mugging a couple. Mythic Two and Three had taken to acting like human shields and placed themselves between the civilians and the fight. Mythic One and Four were, in the meantime, beating the absolute hell out of the thugs. One of the goons was lying face down on the concrete, a knife held loosely in his hand and blood oozing from a nasty wound on his head. Another was in the process of being flung across the alleyway after taking a devastating kick right to the sternum from their leader.

The distinct crack of bones being snapped was impossible to miss.

As Aizawa's feet touched the ground, he was able to see the final two villains attempt to make a break for it. One of them transformed their legs into springs and lept a dozen meters away while the other formed their hands into a pair of organic icepicks and started darting up the side of the building. In response, the teacher activated his Quirk.

The spring villain's legs returned to normal mid-jump, causing him to smack face first into the pavement of the street. The icepick villain suffered a similar fate and fell flat on her back from a height of several meters. Mythic One and Four sprinted to them and quickly handcuffed the would-be muggers.

Aizawa took a moment to get his breathing under control. With the excitement over, he was able to notice that something was missing. Or someone.

"You could've helped apprehend those last two. Would've made it a lot less painful," the teacher called out to the golden-haired hero above him.

"Well, sure, but then you guys wouldn't have had that prime bonding experience," Hawks replied. "I mean, that was clean! The five of you are working like a team already."

Aizawa sighed.

The Spartans remained silent.

The couple started sobbing and thanking them profusely.

Police sirens could be heard in the distance as they made their way towards them.

"This is gonna be a long night," he groaned.

XXXXX

It was around an hour before the group was able to start moving again. Just more of the routine clean-up process where they hand the villains off to the police, give them their report of the incident, and console the young couple. Though that last part was mostly handled by Hawks and Eraserhead.

And wasn't that a concept?

Hitoshi remembered years ago when he wanted nothing more than to meet his all-time favorite hero, Eraserhead. Well, he'd gone above and beyond in that department. The young Spartan had worked alongside the man to take down a group of villains and save a couple of civilians. Wasn't that something?

Alas, he couldn't allow such sentiment to distract him; they still had a lot more ground to cover before the end of the night. As soon as the police had dismissed them, the group was off in search of anywhere else they might be needed. However, it was turning out to be a slow night after the initial attack. They caught a shoplifter, prevented pickpocketing, and stopped someone from getting hit by a car.

That's how things were after their reputation spread throughout the country. As soon as all the villains in the area realized that there were Spartans in the area, they crawled back into whatever hideout they had and laid low for a few weeks. That left them to manage minor incidents for the rest of their patrols.

Hitoshi remembered the way Doctor Halsey was practically fuming when she learned that the talents of her Spartans were being used to prevent misdemeanors. She'd gone straight to the Board and declared that it was a waste of their skills and that they could be used in more productive ways. Yet, Hitoshi never felt bothered by it. Heroes should help out in all aspects of life, both the big and the small.

Alas, the night had to come to an end eventually. After seeing Aizawa off, the rest of the group made their way back to the Commission base where they were being stationed at for the meantime. Normally, Hawks would've said his farewells and taken off for his own residence, but he seemed to be in a far more enthusiastic mood tonight.

"So. Any thoughts on our friend's performance tonight?" The Wing Hero asked.

"Well, he was dedicated, that's for certain," Izuku said thoughtfully. "Despite the pace we were going, he managed to keep up. Not an easy thing to accomplish."

"That's for sure," agreed Will. "I know his file explained that rooftops were his usual method of traveling, but they didn't say anything about how good he is."

"Not to mention just how useful his Quirk can be," Mei chimed in. "It definitely evens the playing field for him, but for us? It's like a walk in the park."

Hawks let out a hum, then turned to face Hitoshi. His teammates looked to him as well. With the majority of their armor already off, he could see the subtle expressions of intrigue upon each of their faces. He knew why. They all were aware that Eraserhead was his favorite hero - even Hawks. Part of him wondered if that was the reason they'd been selected for this operation. The blonde was far more clever than he let on with his little stage persona.

Nevertheless, they wanted to know if he still held the Pro in the same regard as he did during their earlier years.

Hitoshi folded his arms and adopted a frown, acting like all of his hopes and dreams had been turned to ash. He couldn't see them, but he knew that they must've been holding their breath in anticipation.

Then he treated them to a small grin. "It was nice to finally work with him."

"Hell yeah! That's four for four!" Hawks exclaimed.

"I'm glad to hear that, Hitoshi," Izuku said with a smile.

"It's a hell of a way to meet your hero, huh?" Mei chuckled.

"If you ask nicely enough, I think he might still give you an autograph," Will joked.

Hitoshi simply rolled his eyes at them and went back to storing his gear.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that we're looking forward to working with him again," said Izuku. "I think you're right. There's a lot he has to offer."

The Wing Hero was all but glowing with self-satisfaction. "What can I say? I call it like I see it."

Footsteps alerted all of them - even Hawks - to someone's presence outside the room. When the door opened, the Spartans jumped to attention while Hawks simply stepped back to observe the situation.

"Doctor Halsey, how can we help you?" Izuku asked dutifully.

She regarded them with a pleasant smile. It looked like there was a fair bit of pride in it, as well. "Stow your gear, Mythic, and meet with Agent Tsutsumi in the motorpool. From there, you'll be transported to Black Site Sigma."

Izuku shared a look with Hitsohi, then turned back to Halsey and tilted his head. "Doctor?"

"The Board and I have reviewed your work and have come to a decision," she said. "You will be among the first to receive the MJOLNIR powered assault armor."

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow. "Sounds fancy."

"Oh! A new toy?" Mei asked.

"It's more than some flashy new gadget," Halsey corrected them. "With this armor, your combat effectiveness will skyrocket. You'll accomplish things you could only ever dream of."

"I don't know, Doctor," said Will, "I've got quite the imagination."

Izuku playfully elbowed his side, then spoke to Halsey in an enthusiastic manner. "If anyone can keep a promise like that, it's Doctor Halsey."

"Thank you, Izuku," she said gratefully. Then her expression turned hollow as she regarded the last occupant in the room. "Hawks."

"Doctor," he replied coolly.

They were silent for a moment until Halsey finally spoke again. "Thank you for watching them this evening."

He leaned against the wall behind him. "Always have. Always will."

She nodded at him then shifted her focus back towards the team. "You better get going now. Don't wait for me, I'll meet you there soon enough. Fireteam Phoenix and I have something… well, it's really someone that we have to deal with. Don't worry. I'll explain later."

Unknown, 2168

Unknown Time

Stain didn't know where he was. However, he heavily suspected it was related to the Hero Commission on account of his kidnappers. Waking up after being so physically knocked out wasn't a pleasant experience. The sensation of pins and needles was present throughout his entire body, his senses were dulled, and he was-

"Akaguro Chizome, correct?"

-now fully alert.

The woman in front of him had an air of absolute professionalism. Her white lab coat was pristine, her shoulder length hair immaculate, and the expression she wore firmly stated that she was business first and casual never. He could appreciate that; it kind of reminded him of himself, actually. Though, she didn't look nearly as physically capable as he was. Something that was incredibly trivial on account of the same hulking giants who'd put him here in the first place that were in the room with them.

Two of them stood on either side of her and although Stain didn't bother to look, he could tell that the third one was right behind him. His hands and feet were bound to the metal chair he sat upon. He didn't have any of his old clothes or accessories. For obvious reasons. Instead, he wore a simple gray jumpsuit with a pair of equally simple sneakers. How quant.

"That is your name, right?" The lab coat lady asked.

"I don't go by that anymore. Haven't used it in years," he explained. His throat felt scratchy, but he decided against asking for water. Not until he understood what was going on here.

"You'd prefer I call you Stain?"

"Hngh."

"Very well. You may refer to me as Doctor."

"And your… companions?"

"Classified, for now."

Classified. That word rubbed Stain in all the wrong ways.

"Who are they? Some fancy new enforcers that the Commission hired? The gear they've got and the way they act, I'd say they're some kind of mercenary group."

"Just pretend they aren't here, for the moment."

"How much did you pay them?"

"That's not how they operate."

"That's how they all operate, these days," Stain sneered.

"They're different," she stated.

"Hmph. I guess," said Stain. "They're certainly a fair cut above the usual crowd from what I've seen."

"I assure you that everything you've witnessed is merely the tip of the iceberg," she replied. "Now then, back to the topic at hand. The Commission has quite the case file on you, you know. For several months, you took up the identity of Stendahl, and committed yourself to the world of vigilantism. After a run-in with another vigilante group, however, you completely discarded your persona in pursuit of a far more murderous livelihood and became a true villain. Before all that, you lived a peaceful and relatively average life when you enrolled at Saitama Prefecture Private Heroics Academia. You dropped out during your second year after you became disillusioned with your peers' motivations for becoming Pros."

"Fakes," Stain spat. "Every last one of them."

"Indeed," the Doctor said offhandedly. Stain was taken aback by her casual agreement, but she continued on. "There's an incredible number of Pro Heroes in our day and age who've signed up for all the wrong reasons: mostly fortune and fame. Though the ones we're after are… unique."

"A fake is a fake is a fake," he argued.

"That might be so," she said, "but a traitor is far more dangerous than someone who's in it for the esteem."

Stain's blood ran cold. Then it boiled.

Failing to uphold the true virtues of heroism was one thing, but actively supporting the side of villainy? What scum! What vile, disgusting, depraved monster would so much as consider that? It's- it's-

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'diabolical'," The Doctor said.

Apparently he'd been so infuriated that he'd said that last part out loud. Oh well.

"Tell me," he growled. "Tell me where they are. Point me in their direction and I'll rid the world of the vermin who'd dare try to slander the ideals of heroism! I'll slaughter them where they stand! I'll cut them down and leave their bodies as a warning! NO! I'll show them to the world, I'll put them on display! I'll hang them up by their own entrails and I'll-"

"Patience, Stain, we'll get there soon enough."

"NO! Tell me NOW! Tell me WHERE!"

"I will sedate you. Then I'll send you off to Tartarus. You won't be able to 'cleanse the filth' from there."

He bit back any more words he'd wanted to say. The chance to slay these traitors outweighed the need to voice his plans.

"Thank you," she said. "I can tell this is deeply concerning for you. We at the Commission share your sentiment. That's why we've already taken measures to combat this threat."

"Is it really so hard to put a knife in their neck and get it over with?"

"Yes, and before you say anything, the situation is far more complex than a few rogue heroes."

"Of course it is," he snarled. "You suits have always dropped the ball. Good to know that you'll never change."

"Oh, but so much has indeed changed…"

When she spoke again, Stain hung onto every word that came from her mouth. How could he not when everything she said sounded like it'd come straight from a nightmare? Thousands of people had been corrupted. Civilians, law enforcement, Pro Heroes, entire corporations, and more were amongst them.

This can't be happening, he thought. She's wrong. The Commission's so inept that they're seeing threats that aren't there. Or maybe she's lying. That's probably it. She's trying to get me on their side because… because why?

Even as his brain tried to formulate an excuse, the more rational parts of his psyche had already come to a conclusion. The Pros, the Commission, the entire fucking government had collectively shit the bed. An entire army - the "Meta Liberation Army" - lay in wait, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Yet, somehow, they thought that these new demon-heroes with their big guns and power armor would be able to solve everything.

He'd have to put a hold on his quest to slaughter the fakes of the world. It'd be great if he found the time to put one or two down, but there were far more pressing issues on the horizon. First, he needed to get out of this room.

"You need to let me go," he demanded. "I have to get out there. I've already wasted too much time. Another second spent here is one they're using to strengthen themselves."

"You want to go and fight the entire army? By yourself?"

"You sure as hell aren't doing anything."

"We have our own operatives who have been trained to deal with this exact-"

"Even if they aren't the common trash, they're nothing more than a bunch of thugs with guns. Ready to kill, and maim, and slaughter for their next paycheck. They're brutes."

"They are the future. Free of everything that's led to the corruption of Heroes in today's society. They have no desire for money or power, nor fame or glory. They've trained to be one thing and one thing only: the next generation of heroes. They're purpose in life is to be the protectors of the innocent. Defenders of humanity. Every last one of them was handpicked and handcrafted to become what they are now. They've undergone trials that no others could hope to survive, let alone achieve. Their very lives have been dedicated to embracing the values of a true hero. Values that All Might himself laid the groundwork for."

And that's what got him. The mention of All Might. The very implication that they could possibly hold a candle to the Number One Hero himself. He would've snapped at her. Hell, had she approached him before his capture he might've contemplated taking her head off. But he had to admit.

He was intrigued by what she'd claimed.

Especially after this newfound knowledge about bands of traitorous heroes. Actually, it all started to make sense to him now. Why hadn't he thought of doing this himself? In the face of such revolting filth, why wouldn't the Commission decide to flip the table and start from scratch? Why wouldn't they create their own heroes? Just like the Doctor said, they'd be free of everything that made the old lot a bunch of failures from the start. But had they succeeded, or had they created something even worse? Was there really any guarantee that they would actually become the next generation that she promised?

There was only one way to find out.

"What… What do you want from me?"

She regarded him in a nonchalant manner. "Honestly, it won't be much different from what you were already doing. The only caveat is that you'll have partners. You'll accompany Fireteam Phoenix here as they go about searching for more turn-coats and other MLA assets. Anyone they don't bag and drag, you put them down. It doesn't matter if you kill them or not, we simply need them off the playing field. We'll be able to substantially increase the number of traitors we can terminate so long as we can blame everything on you."

"A little extreme, don't you think?" He snidely remarked. "You'd let your new heroes - the ones who are supposed to uphold the ideals of All Might himself - regard a villain's very life with such dispassion?"

"These monsters forfeited any mercy they're entitled to the moment they conspired to bring our society into ruins. Do you understand the consequences we're talking about here? Millions dead. Millions more will be affected by the fallout. And that's just here in Japan. How far do you think the suffering will reach? This isn't something we view lightly."

Stain rolled it all around in his head for a few moments. Then he came to a decision. "Well in that case, when do we start?"

A smile - a fearsome smile - materialized upon the Doctor's face. "Soon. My Spartans here are exemplary, but they're in dire need of new armor. Next time you see them, they'll look quite different."

Author's Note: I wanted to make this clear in the chapter, but I'm not sure if I did. So, just in case, I'll explain. Aizawa and Nezu are under the impression that the Spartans are adults now (18-21 y/o) and aren't still children anymore. This is because Hawks was trained from childhood, but didn't debut until he was an adult. They think it's the same case for the Spartans - which it isn't.

Fun fact: In canon, some of the Spartans IIIs were as young as twelve when they were sent on their first mission.