Hello! Here is the fourth chapter, I hope you will enjoy it :3 I accelerated the pace because I want to get to other parts of the story which I really want to write.
fencer29: Hello there! Sadly yes, the Ashuva cult is a big one ^^ I hope you will enjoy this chapter :D
James Birdsong: thank you :3 I hope you will like this one too :D
Chapter 04.
"How is he?", Shigaraki asked.
Momo turned around to face him. He seemed perfectly healthy, minus of few scraps here and there. A wave of relief washed over her. 'Don't. Don't go down that road, Momo, you can't afford it, you know you can't.' She gulped, pushing the thoughts and relief away, forcing herself to be as neutral as she could, although she could not but smile softly. He cared about his lieutenant, and it warmed her heart, although it should not.
"He's stable. I'm confident that there will be no long-lasting damages but have a doctor check him whenever you can. I advise bed rest and nothing physical until he is healed. He was quite lucky that the bullet missed the liver", Momo explained, and the Paranormal Liberation Front leader nodded.
"Can you make us some quirk-repressing cuffs? We don't have enough for anyone, and I don't want another battle the moment these fuckers wake up", Mirko intervened.
"Of course. How many?"
"A dozen, I'd say."
"Okay, get them from my back while I tend to everyone's wounds." Momo could feel the villains' gaze on her back when she rolled her shoulders, the cuffs pouring from her body, and she refused to show any sign of exhaustion or overuse of her quirk even though it was starting to take its toll on her health. She gestured to Naomasa, who had taken quite the beating, to come to her. "Your nose looks broken, and you will have a black eye. Would you like some painkillers?"
"If it's not too much of a strain on your quirk, I won't refuse."
"It's nothing at all", she smiled softly, handing him the medicines appearing in her hand. What was one more creation? All of their opponents were under control. "Is anyone else wounded?"
Momo noticed that, although Shigaraki did not seem to care at all, Dabi was eying her. She sighed internally. The black-haired villain was too proud to ask for help, but it was clear he needed medical attention. She could smell his burnt skin, and she had no doubt it was very much painful. He was much akin to Aoyama in the sense that his quirk was not compatible with his body. However, she did not offer any help; he was similar to Bakugō, she could feel it. He would never accept outside help, especially from a heroine-in-training.
Mirko came back, running a hand through her hair. "Finally!", she sighed before turning towards the woman that had attacked them first, who called herself an Archangel. "Alright doll girl, you better start talking."
"I have nothing to say to a beast like you", the woman haughtily replied, and Momo gulped as Mirko narrowed her eyes. "Only Mother and Father matter to me."
Momo shuddered and glanced at Shigaraki. He looked as disgusted as her; these nicknames were unsettling. The white-haired man turned towards Dabi and grumbled something Momo did not make out. The blue flame wielder's face was twisted by a sadistic smile as a cruel light shone in his electric blue eyes, and the heroine-in-training winced in anticipation. She knew what fire did, she knew the pain of having her body being broken. 'Stop, stop, stop, that's enough!' she shouted at her mind, turning away when the villain loomed over the cultist. She could not see, less she would end up in a state of panic.
"You should answer the lady before I'm the one in charge of asking the questions. I'm not really kind, and I don't give two shits about human rights."
"For now, you're not, brother."
She heard Dabi taking a step back.
"Fucking wacko. How am I your bloody brother?"
"You serve Father."
"I'm going to roast her."
Realization dawned on Momo as she heard the nickname.
"I think two of them are following me on Instagram", she said bluntly, and everyone turned to her. "Last night I got two new followers, BrotherHiru and SisterHarumi." She stood before the so-called Archangel and stood right before her, trying to appear as intimidating as she could – although she doubted she had succeeded. "They're your men, aren't they?"
"If they found us via your Instagram, I will kill you", Shigaraki groaned, and Momo glared at him.
"I don't have my phone with me, and there is nothing on my account relating to this case."
"Father, you shouldn't be angry with Mother. We found you through our own means", the Archangel said in a sweet voice.
Momo almost jumped back, disgusted shivers running down her spine. She glanced at Shigaraki, who had a repulsed scowl on his face. Obviously, he hated this whole situation at least as much as she did, if not more. However, contrary to her, his repulsion was fuelling his anger, and he stomped towards them, pushed Momo aside, and loomed over the woman, hand extended to decay her.
"I suggest you answer all of our questions or I will slowly turn you into a pile of dust. A nasty and painful way to go."
But the woman smiled wildly and, if it was not for Mirko's quick reflexes, would have smashed her face against the destructive hand of the white-haired man. Thankfully, she was slammed back by the rabbit heroine, yelping in pain as her back hit the harsh ground. Shigaraki took a few steps back, appalled by the whole situation. Momo felt sick to her stomach. How desperate had these people been to join such a cult? What could lead one to make such a choice?
"What… the… fuck?", the white-haired man articulated.
"Dying by Father's hand, the most beautiful blessing of all…", the woman dreamily said, her eyes rolling back.
"Holy shit, they're batshit crazy", Dabi let out, his voice for once expressing an emotion, pure shock.
How could one not be afraid be of Shigaraki's quirk? Worse, how could one desire to be its victim? She knew exactly what it did, and she felt as if she was about to throw up. She felt like scratching her neck but forced herself to breathe deeply. She could not allow dread to consume her, she could not behave the way she had following the sports festival. She ought to think and find a solution. She was Momo Yaoyorozu, the best student in her class and one of the smartest persons around. She knew hundreds of molecular compositions by heart, she could find a solution.
She looked around, searching for a clue that might inspire her. Her eyes soon fell on Dabi, and she smiled internally. She knew what to do; the Archangel did not fear death at the hands of Shigaraki – and perhaps herself – but that did not mean she did not feel pain, and she had only been cocky with Dabi because he was not yet in charge of the interrogation. What if he was? She walked over to the woman and stared directly in her eyes, standing as tall as she could.
"How about Dabi's flames? Blue flames, the hottest ones. It's quite painful, believe me. Answer our questions, or none of us will stop him from burning you alive."
She was obviously bluffing. She would allow anyone to be tortured, and she knew Mirko would not either. They had agreed to give Shigaraki the leader, but that was all. Neither he nor his men would torture anyone else. The woman gulped, this time dread setting on her face. She fearfully looked at Dabi, and Momo knew she had won. She was not a very good liar, and she had not been very sure of her plan, but she was glad it had worked.
"Mother, please –"
"What is the goal of the Ashuva cult?" Momo cut her.
"Giving God a perfect body so he may walk this land!", she replied quickly.
"How are they planning to do this? Why do you need Shigaraki and Creati?", Mirko all but barked at the woman.
"I don't answer to monsters of your kind. God will purge the world of your monstrous kind", the woman seethed.
"Answer the question before I let Dabi have his way with you", Shigaraki growled.
The woman eyed him carefully but remained silent until Dabi took a step closer, blue flames dangerously dancing in his hand, flinching when he did. Momo glanced at his expression and gulped. A sadistic glee was burning in his eyes, and a cruel smile was twisting his scarred face. He was terrifying; if Shigaraki was the devil himself, Dabi was the burning flames of hell, ready to scorch anything and anyone for his leader.
"Mother and Father are both a half of God, they're the only ones who can give him a perfect body…", she confessed.
"How?", the detective asked.
"They must be united by the Prophet himself", she said, choosing her words carefully.
"Why them? Is it just because of their quirks?", the detective pressed.
"The Prophet recognized Mother and Father through their quirks", the woman said.
"That's not what we asked; meaning there is something else", Shigaraki said.
The woman looked at them carefully, her eyes looking right at their souls, and Momo had to do her utter best as to not flinch. She could not handle showing fear right now. She ought to look strong and fearless, just like her mentor. She breathed deeply, drawing strength from her mentor's courage. If she ever wanted to be like Mirko, she could not allow herself to be scared of a prisoner, no matter how unhinged they were. Yet, her stomach was twisted, her blood had turned to ice and her head was painful. She knew the other reason. She knew, she knew, she knew. Why did she have to know? Why could she not be bathed in the bliss of ignorance?
Then, suddenly, the woman started to giggle, before bursting out laughing. Her laugh was an unhinged cackle that made Momo's mouth and throat completely dry. Instinctively, she took a step back, uncaring that she was almost completely glued to Shigaraki. Or rather, forcing herself not to care, for she could not, or she would lose whatever was left her composure.
"Oh, Mother, Father, you look so beautiful!", the woman finally said. "Oh, how blessed I have been to see you working together! My brothers and sisters will complete my duty to you, the blessed siblings!"
Then, there was a click, and the world erupted into pain.
000
When Tomura regained consciousness, all his brain could process was the shooting pain in his entire body. He groaned, his eyes painfully awakening. Slowly, his other senses came back, and he could feel the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. His ears were ringing, and he was not sure about his sense of equilibrium, but he slowly brought a hand to his pounding skull. It felt like the worst hangover he had ever suffered from, but worse. He could feel all sorts of cuts and bruises all over his body, but he found something else. Something, or rather someone, was half-lying on him. The young man grunted and sat up. Creati slid from his torso, rolling on the ground next to him, still unconscious. She was bleeding badly from the head, and one of her arms was badly burnt.
Tomura focused, trying to remember what had happened when the crazy bitch had blown herself up. Sadly, the horrible pounding on his skull was making his mind blurry, and all he could vaguely remember was Creati being projected against him by the burning shockwave. They had been sent flying and then, his head had brutally hit the floor. After that, nothing. He looked around, assessing the damage. It was one hell of a mess. There were blood and guts everywhere, and Tomura's sight was too blurry to assess the others' wounds. They were too far away. Dabi was alive, though, cursing as he slowly sat up. He was badly bleeding, however, and Tomura was pretty sure that the other villain had lost a bunch of staples in the explosion.
Tomura glanced at the heroine-in-training next to him. If it was not for the regular rise-and-fall of her chest, one might believe her dead. Fuck this idea. Fuck this idea, bad. He should not have come here. It was doomed to be a shitshow from the very beginning. However, he was now in this mess, and fury was running through his veins. He was going to make an example of this cult, teach them who was the true king of the underworld. He needed to get someone to come to pick them up. He could not drive in that state. With some luck, Skeptic had been doing his job correctly and was sending a car to help them. He would call them, but he was not sure his phone had survived the explosion.
Right at this moment, cars arrived, and Tomura growled, readying himself to fight with whatever energy he had left. If these were the heroes or the cult, he would not go down without a fight. He could not fail now. Not when he was this close to his goal. Despite his blurry vision and ringing ears, he pushed himself up, staggering and disgustingly weak. He still managed to glare at the vehicles. There were too many chances that the newcomers were not friendly, and he was the leader of the fucking Paranormal Liberation Front. He would not appear weak. He noticed Dabi dragging himself to him, staggering too.
Tomura winced at the sight of his the black-haired man's state. The staples on his cheeks had been all torn off except for one or two, and it was the same thing on his hands. He was bleeding badly and needed immediate medical care if they did not all the wounds to get infected. For fuck's sake, he was even holding his jaw in place! Tomura knew Dabi's jaw would not fall off, the bones and tendons were still doing their job after all, but the delimitation between the scarred and healthy skin had clearly been reopened, his cheeks completely cut in half and dangling on the bones.
"I can't… fight boss… Body's too weak…" Dabi articulated, blood leaking from everywhere on his face.
'No shit. How do you even talk?'
"I got this…", Tomura panted.
But when people ran in his direction, his brain completely bugged. Everything was blurry and noisy, pounding on his skull. He groaned and almost fell on his knees, a hand shooting up to his head. The rabbit heroine was still unconscious and from what Tomura could discern, she was in terrible shape. 'For once that a fucking hero could have been useful', he thought. He tried to get his equilibrium back but failed, and his legs failed him. 'Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!', the villain roared in his mind as cultists swarmed him. He tried to touch at least one of them, hoping Decay would transfer itself to the others, but failed, only touching the void.
They slammed him to the ground, and Tomura let out a groan of pure hatred as a needle pierced his skin. He used the last of his strength to scream at Dabi to run and get some help, and everything faded to black once again.
000
Comfort. Warmth. These were the first thing Momo's brain registered. Her eyes fluttered open, and she rose and arm to hold her head when she noticed bandages. Immediately, memories swirled in her mind. The rendezvous with the villains, the fight, the interrogation, the explosion. A phrase too. 'The blessed siblings.' She felt like she had swallowed a stone and close her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. Why, why, why had that woman said out loud? How could she keep trying to dissociate him from her baby brother, her beloved Tenko? But how can one accept their long-lost sibling's heinous crimes? Was it not better for her to believe Tenko on the other side of the world, with a loving family and someone to help him control his quirk, even if it meant never seeing him ever again?
It was her fault. If only she had reacted differently that day. If only she had not run away as if he was a monster and not a terrified little boy. She shuddered, remembering the horrendous pain she had felt when Decay had attacked her. The feeling of her body falling apart, of her life escaping her so painfully. If Creation had not gone haywire in response, she would be dead. Maybe it would be better; maybe Tenko would be happier if she was dead. Maybe some of the hatred raging on in his heart like a storm would go away. A sob racked her body. She had done her best to ignore the painful truth, focusing on how unlikely it would be, how Tenko was supposed to be dead missing, how it had been sixteen years. Yet, she could not push it somewhere else in her mind.
Momo forced her eyes to open; she could not drown in her own misery now. She had to assess where she was and what had happened when she was unconscious. Her sight was slightly blurry, but after blinking a few times, she was able to discern her environment properly. She was in a luxurious bedroom, laying down in what seemed to be a canopy bed. She frowned and quickly sat, ignoring the throbbing in her skull. She did not recognize this place. She looked around when her eyes fell on the person unconscious in the same bed as her. Tenko. Shigaraki. A stone fell deep in Momo's stomach, and she immediately brought her shaking hands to his face. Despite the scars, he looked peaceful. Momo softly caressed his face, biting back tears. His skin was warm, he was really here. The last time she had touched him was sixteen years ago.
"Why were we cursed like this?", she murmured.
Of course, there was no one to answer her question. She removed her hands and left the bed. She had to figure out where they were, understand what had happened. The room they were in was richly decorated, with lavish furniture reminding her of her home, without the warm soul of the Yaoyorozu mansion. From what she could feel, her arm had been burn, and she was covered in cuts and bluish bruises that would definitely turn purple. The cultists – whom she assumed were the people who had taken Tenko and her – definitely had lots of resources at their disposal. They had been planning this for a while. She tried to open the main door without much hope, to no avail. It was not surprising, but it did not hurt to try. Momo then found a bathroom and a shriek of horror escaped her lips as she saw her reflection.