The black-cloaked man left soon after sending Unknown towards the upper wing where the attackers had most likely reached by now. He gave her explicit instructions, orders conveyed to all of them by Overhaul himself: kill any hero they came across. She was in no rush, however, as she made her way toward the specified area. If the growing sounds of distant clamor were anything to go by, there was indeed some kind of conflict occurring.

As she grew closer, she recognized part of the persistent noise sounded like metallic creaks and groans, and she soon found the source of it when she turned the corner into a hall where the walls and floors rippled violently as if they were alive.

"What the…"

She frowned in confusion as the corridor writhed like a crawling worm, pulsing and twitching in a way that decidedly made her uncomfortable. From what she could see, the entire hall was affected, possibly even stretching to other floors or parts of the building.

After a moment of bewildered deliberation, she took a cautious step into the rippling hallway and found it barely steady enough to maintain her footing.

"Hey, you!" a deep voice called out, seemingly emanating from all around her. It reverberated like a disembodied echo, disorientating as if she were in a tunnel, "What are you standing there for?! Hurry up and take down these damn heroes, temp!"

"Mimic?" she whispered, glancing around in confusion, "...since when could you do this?"

"Quit talking and hurry up! There are heroes just ahead, so move it!" he demanded.

In the blink of an eye, the floor abruptly stabilized as its writhing quickly died down, its movements reducing to little more than a slight undulation.

"Which heroes?" she asked aloud, still not quite sure where to look.

After a moment of receiving no reply, she called out to him again, and was again greeted with silence. She could only assume his attention was elsewhere now, if that was how it worked, as she carefully took a step forward. She decided, begrudgingly, her best option was to continue forward for now.

It took a few minutes for her to come across the first sign of intruders.

Just up ahead, a gaping hole was torn straight through the wall. All around it were splatterings of dents, missing chunks, and scratches to the floor, walls, and even ceiling. She straightened, rolling her shoulders slightly. Something serious must have taken place here. She approached with careful attention, eyes scanning around her for any sign of threat, though it was much too quiet for any danger to still have been nearby.

She reached the edge of the large hole; it stood about a foot above her head and just as wide, the edges rough and irregular with pieces of metal hanging freely in some places. Glancing through to the other side, she could see two figures on the ground near the far side of the room, collapsed a few feet away from each other and unmoving. One of them clearly had a beaked mask, marking them as one of the Eight Bullets, while the other had what appeared to be a sack or cloth over their head. She leaned forward a bit and glanced around the room. There was another fallen figure near the right wall, appearing to be more well-built than the other two, though she couldn't be certain as he was half-obscured from where she stood, his bald head being his most visible feature. She turned to the other side of the room and was met with one more figure in a similar state to the others. This one she was unfamiliar with, mostly shrouded in a white cloak with metallic patterns scattered across its surface. She assumed he was not one of them.

Unknown stepped through the gaping hole and carefully approached the unmoving, cloaked form. His back was facing her, prompting her to step around him to get a closer look. She knelt down near his head, his dark blue hair splayed wildly over his masked face. The rest of his attire certainly looked like a hero costume, which meant she would, unfortunately, have to do as she was instructed. Poor hero. Well, if he had to die in a place like this, she thought, it was best that she be the one to do it. Unlike most others around here, she took little pleasure in this kind of work.

It was only out of sheer curiosity that she reached for the mask obscuring the upper half of his face. Perhaps it was a bit of pity guiding her actions, but regardless, she gently lifted the piece of stiff cloth.

Her brows knit as the man's face came into full view.

He looked... young. A bit too young to be a hero, and she didn't recognize him either.

That was strange. She couldn't be certain; she was never particularly good at guessing ages, and there was certainly no shortage of minor heroes she was unfamiliar with, many of them quite young as well. It was a more than reasonable explanation, yet she found herself hesitating.

While she was lost in thought, she failed to notice the young man's eyes slowly opening.

It took a moment for him to fully come to, lids heavy with exhaustion, before his eyes finally focused on the girl kneeling mere inches away. He instantly shot up in alarm, eyes growing wide and scrambling backwards only to collapse once again as overwhelming pain tore through every inch of his aching body. He quickly recalled the battle against those three yakuza members earlier, how he had overused his quirk and left himself barely functional by the end; that combined with the heaviness in his overworked limbs, a cold sense of panic coursed through his veins as he realized he might not be able to defend himself. He grit his teeth painfully, and with what little strength he could muster, he weakly inched himself away from her crouched form.

She only watched as he struggled, gazing down at him with observant, passive eyes.

"...y...you… Un...known…" he choked out, suddenly realizing his throat was painfully dry. His mind raced a mile a minute: Unknown was here, that meant the League of Villains was involved with Shie Hassaikai, that meant there might be more of them here, that meant the League was clearly planning something that-

"Are you a UA student?" she asked abruptly, tearing him from his spiraling train of thought.

...

What?

Did she just ask… but why would that matter? Did she want something with UA? Did it have to do with the League's plans? Was she going to try and extract information from him? What other reason could she possibly have for-?

"Hey," she called, snapping him back to reality once again, "are you a UA student?" she repeated.

Her tone made it clear; she was serious.

He grit his teeth nervously. His instinct told him not to answer. What if she wanted information? What if she goes after the others? He couldn't play into her hands. He wouldn't. But what would she do to him if he refused? The others were too far to reach him in time and she was too close for him to get away without-

Before he could descend further into his worst-case scenario predictions, however, a quiet groan sounded from behind him. He jolted, quickly turning around, and the sight instantly had ice sinking into his veins.

The man with the eating quirk shifted from where he had collapsed, slowly raising his cloth-covered head in unsteady, jerky motions. The thick rope coiled around his neck dragged across the metal floor as he slowly awakened. He gradually lifted his head, undoubtedly still impaired from the earlier battle, and almost instantly, his bleary gaze connected with his own. A flash of realization sparked in the man's eyes before he lurched up, scrambling wildly towards the wide-eyed hero.

Stunned, his muscles locked up unwittingly as the crazed man rapidly darted towards him, the weight of his overused quirk rendering him all too vulnerable. The man's eyes shone with a fatal glint as he grew closer and closer and closer, until-

Slam!

The man collided with the ground as if an immense weight had suddenly dropped onto his back, his head striking the floor with a sickening crack.

The young hero's eyes grew impossibly wider as he recoiled from the sound, unable to tear his shocked gape away from the man who now laid unmoving.

He knew that quirk.

Shakily, he glanced back to Unknown who still loomed a few steps behind him. Her head was slightly lowered as she pressed a hand against her forehead, a slight grimace on her face. He almost flinched when her gaze snapped back up to him. Her dark eyes met his own, narrowed irritably and glinting with faint discomfort, and he was certain his expression conveyed every bit of bewilderment and confusion that paralyzed his body.

"Look," she spoke once again, her tone slow and patient as if speaking to a child, "I need to know if you're a UA student."

"...y-you're… I t-thought you were... on t-their side?" he managed through the tightness in his chest, burning painfully from fatigue. "...W-Why?"

"Long story, just answer the question before someone else comes by," she demanded, eyes flicking to the large hole in the wall.

Every rational part of him told him not to trust her, to keep his mouth shut. She was dangerous, one of the most wanted criminals in the country: a villain, a murderer. Not only had she caused untold damage to lives all across the city, but she had specifically hurt people he cared about: his classmates, his friends. She was the furthest thing from trustworthy, he had no doubt about that, so why did she just save him?

Looking up at her and quickly weighing his options, he faintly nodded.

She let out a short sigh and rubbed her forehead in exasperation, muttering something under her breath.

"Are there more?"

Hesitantly, he nodded again.

"Damn it," she hissed, gritting her teeth in frustration, though he didn't know why. She seemed to consider something for a moment, a frown pinching between her brows before her noticeably annoyed gaze fell on him once again. "Can you walk?" she asked, her voice surprisingly calm.

Deciding to suspend his disbelief for the time being, if for no reason other than his semi-delirious state caused by the firey, aching pain in every part of his body, he carefully rose to his feet. A hand flew to his side as a jolt of pain shot through him, forcing him to bite back a whimper.

Unknown moved back to the damaged wall and carefully re-entered the corridor, glancing both ways before silently motioning for him to follow.

"We need to hurry before they notice us," she breathed quietly, glancing warily at the still-writhing walls. "Do you remember the way back?" Her voice remained low as she quickly made her way through the unstable hallway, the young hero trailing a few feet behind her.

"A little..." he nodded stiffly, trying desperately to ignore the sharp ache in his side every time he moved.

The hallway continued to shift and pulse like a living creature, the ground remaining just stable enough for him to move forward without stumbling. He noticed she would pause whenever they turned a corner or crossed another hall, glancing around carefully before continuing her brisk movements. She blatantly kept her back to him, as if she was unconcerned with any possibility of him as a threat, and strangely showed no sign of ill intent, seeming far more preoccupied with assessing her surroundings. Even in his injured state, he could tell she was on edge, afraid of being caught, and although it still perplexed him as to why she was helping him at all, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut until he was safe.

The path slowly became more familiar as they moved forward, passing a number of landmarks he vaguely recalled seeing on his way in.

The distant hope of salvation quickly grew closer.

"That door leads to the main portion of the house; the white button on the wall opens it. I'm assuming you and your friends cleared the footsoldiers on your way in. Go left, take the second right you see, the exit should be straight ahead from there," she instructed, motioning for him to go on. Her eyes again flicked to the movements of the walls and ceiling.

"...t-thank you," he muttered uncertainly.

She didn't respond, only turning around and quickly retreating back the way they came.

"Wait!"

She paused, glancing back at him with an expectant stare.

He hesitated for a moment, but he knew he had to decide quickly. His legs were already threatening to give out, and time was not on his side.

"W-what are you going to do now?" he asked, forcefully suppressing the uncanny feeling that twisted in his stomach.

For a moment, he could have sworn he saw her smile: a humorless, self-pitying half-smile that made him feel small.

"You should go while you still can."

And with that, she disappeared down the hall, moving without hesitation as she slipped deeper into the labyrinth maze.

Unknown came across scene after scene clearly indicating conflict had passed through, from dented walls to drops of blood streaking the ground to entire sections of collapsed ceiling blocking the way forward; it seemed there was no small number of heroes scattered in this underground lair. Even still, the sheer vastness of these monotonous halls meant she had yet to come across anyone at all, hero or otherwise. At some point, the corridors had stopped writhing and fallen still; she faintly wondered if that meant Mimic had been captured.

Soon, she came across a large hole in the ground, wide enough for half a dozen people to fall in at once, and upon peering down, noticed it went through the next floor as well. She could hear a faint commotion that seemed to be drifting up from the gap, though she couldn't quite tell what it was.

Seeing as she was in no mood to plummet two stories, she quickly scanned the area for a suitable platform to help lower herself down with. There were mostly scraps of metal and other materials scattered about, but nothing large enough to stand on. She did, however, spot a length of broken pipe not far away. Deciding she would have to make do, she activated her quirk, lifting the section of pipe towards her. It came to hover at eye level as she wrapped a hand around it. Gripping it tightly, she stepped into the hole, hanging onto the pipe as it gently lowered her through the air, past the middle level, and onto the ground twenty feet below.

She flinched as her head throbbed painfully, hands dropping to her knees to brace herself as her face scrunched in discomfort. In hindsight, she really shouldn't have spent so much energy on that little experiment earlier; now even such a minor use of her quirk was a bother.

Shoving aside the persistent ache in her skull, Unknown dropped the broken pipe and let it clatter to the ground as she continued forward, heading in the direction of the noises that still emanated in the distance. It was louder now, and she was certain it was coming from somewhere on this level. She wasn't quite sure why she was following the noises- after all, it wasn't as if she particularly cared about helping the yakuza- but something in the back of her mind compelled her to keep going.

As she grew closer, the commotion became more distinct to the point where she could make out voices shouting among a cacophony of loud crashes. She couldn't tell who the voices belonged to, but it sounded like there were more than two. She rolled her shoulders with a grimace. She would have to tread carefully.

It didn't take long for the source of the racket to finally come into view.

Ahead of her was a wall with half its length missing, beyond which she could clearly see a figure hunched over, half-laying on the ground. From her position, Unknown couldn't see any other people, but the clashing noises, flying debris, and bright flashes of light indicated the figure was not alone. He appeared to be male, though his back was turned to her, and he must have been a hero, judging by the bright, tattered costume clinging to his form. Evidently, he had fought quite the battle and wasn't faring too well: blood and bruises littering his skin, his costume torn in multiple places, the quick rise and fall of his shoulders with each ragged breath. He remained still as he slouched against the ground, and she could only tell he was conscious because of the grip he had on a large piece of red cloth lying next to him.

The sounds of battle soon grew quieter, as if the conflict had suddenly moved further away. Her curiosity told her to follow and see what was happening, but she knew how much trouble she could cause herself if someone noticed her. She had to be careful, otherwise she could ruin everything.

She couldn't afford to slip up, not when she was so close to the end.

After remaining hidden for a few moments longer, once she was sure the battle had moved far enough away, Unknown cautiously approached the torn edge of the wall. The man on the ground had collapsed onto his side, his limp position suggesting he must have fallen unconscious. Peeking her head through the gap, she could see the rest of the expansive room was empty; large stones jutted from the ground, many of which were smashed and strewn around haphazardly, and there was an enormous hole in the ceiling opposite from where she stood. She couldn't see anyone on the other side, which gave her enough confidence to step into the room and slip across to where the ceiling had been destroyed.

Bracing herself for another headache, she located a large, semi-flat chunk of rock and stepped onto it. She felt the familiar heaviness of rising through the air as her head throbbed much more violently than before, almost like something had a vice grip on her brain. Straining to keep herself focused, she nearly lost control of the stone as her concentration momentarily faltered, feeling her heart stop for a split second as she accidentally released her quirk and instantly began plummeting through the air. Her panicked gaze snapped down to the stone as she quickly jerked it back up, stumbling as it collided awkwardly with her feet. One hand flew down to steady herself against the flat of the rock, her heart pounding in her ears as she regained control once more.

She rubbed her head, sighing in relief as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

After exiting through the ceiling, she stepped off of the stone and onto the rooftop, her shoes clicking faintly against the smooth tiles. Glancing beyond the edge, she quickly spotted the source of the commotion she had been following for so long.

Two people clashed in the streets below, energy crackling through the air as they moved fast enough that it was difficult to follow. Through some of their slower motions, she soon recognized it was Midoriya and… Overhaul? Certainly not Overhaul as she knew him, but rather some enormous, twisted monster with the top half of his body merged into it. The creature had a plethora of giant, sickly red arms, faintly reminding her of some of the Nomu she had once seen, with rippling muscles across every part of its repulsive form. She had no idea when that had happened, but she gathered enough to know she had missed out on quite a bit while she was wandering about the base.

As her eyes strained to follow their movements, she noticed there was an odd flash of white following Midoriya as he darted through the air. It took her a moment to make out what it was, the realization quickly dawning on her.

That little girl she had run into so many weeks ago: the heroes must have come to save her.

A faint shadow of resentment flashed through her mind before it was gone just as fast.

Though Unknown had only seen her once, she had gathered enough to know the girl was more than passingly valuable to Overhaul's plans: something he likely could not afford to lose.

That made all this rather interesting.

It was no secret she had little affection for the man, which was why a surprised grin spread across her lips when she noticed Midoriya seemed to have the upper hand. From what she had seen during her time at UA, Unknown had never considered Midoriya to be particularly strong; in fact, the most she could say about him was that he was determined. He trained hard, of that she commended him, and it seemed his training had paid off, as Overhaul was noticeably slowing down, his movements growing sloppier by the second. It didn't take long for the boy to charge in for one final attack, striking him head-on with enough force to send shockwaves through the air, easily reaching to where she stood and forcing her to brace herself as the gust threatened to knock her backward. She shielded her eyes and used her back foot to steady herself, holding her ground as the wind snapped violently through her hair.

Once the blast died down, her gaze returned to the streets below, finding Overhaul lying motionless, collapsed on the pavement. A wave of other heroes, who must have been gathered nearby, immediately rushed over, half to apprehend the villain and half to assist Midoriya. Overhaul had lost his monstrous form somewhere along the line, meaning they had no trouble shackling his wrists, using what she presumed to be quirk-canceling handcuffs, and restraining him to a stretcher before lifting him inside a waiting police transport.

She blinked.

Was that it? Was that really the end of it all?

How comical.

From below, there was a cacophony of movement: orders barked, shouts filling the air, all the while dozens of bodies rushed from some place to another. Heroes and police alike were occupied handling the scores of captured yakuza members, police sirens blaring as they whisked them away a few at a time. A portion of the heroic forces rushed back into the base in search of any remaining Shie Hassaikai members, as well as to recover any of their own who might have still been inside. The few medics present barely had a moment to breathe as they attended to the wounded, checking for head injuries, cleaning and bandaging cuts, and applying medicine to deeper gashes. As soon as one person was treated, another instantly filled their place. There didn't seem to be many serious injuries, fortunately, otherwise they might not have been able to handle it all.

Through the bustle and commotion, Unknown found herself thinking it was a bit amusing. They almost looked like ants: moving in messy lines, gathering in bunches, hurriedly rushing here and there. They were much too distracted to notice her, much to her benefit, despite the fact she remained in plain view if they only looked up.

Wasn't it funny, the things people could miss?

As her eyes swept over the masses below, curiously watching the patterns they formed, her gaze landed on a familiar figure.

It seemed one person had spotted her after all.

She quickly stepped back, over the crest of the rooftop, and swiftly slid out of view.

Midoriya felt a gentle tug at his sleeve, momentarily pulling him away from his conversation with Ryukyu as he glanced down to the little girl by his side.

"What is it, Eri? Are you ok?" he asked worriedly, crouching down in front of her.

The girl's eyes weren't focused on him; her attention was directed somewhere higher. She raised a hand, pointing at something in the distance.

"Oh, did you see something on the roof?" he asked, puzzled.

She nodded faintly, her hand falling back to clutch his sleeve. She gently tugged on it again, her eyes glancing between him and the unremarkable rooftop. She seemed to want to say something.

"Don't worry- you're safe now!" he reassured with a grin, taking her hands in his. Innocent red eyes turned back to gaze at him. "Whatever it was, it's gone now, Eri. It can't hurt you."

The girl shook her head softly, opening her mouth to say something, but she seemed to hesitate before closing it again.

"It's ok, you're safe with us! How about we get you out of here? We'll bring you somewhere nicer where you won't have to worry," he smiled. Perhaps being near this place was making her nervous, he thought. He rose to his feet, gently ushering the girl over to where a few other pro-heroes stood.

Eri glanced back to the rooftop, appearing to search for something for a moment, before quietly turning to follow after Midoriya.

The underground halls of the base were quiet. The heroes were gathered outside, and most of the yakuza members had been captured by now, leaving the plain white corridors barren and silent: only slightly more so than usual.

Traces of the heroes' raid were evident all across the top floor, stretching down to the deepest reaches of the lowest level. Scratches littered some parts of the halls, dents and tears were visible every so often, and plenty of debris lay scattered everywhere. Had it not been for the fact that this place would no longer be of use, Unknown might have thought it was a shame. The damage was extensive and far-reaching; large portions of some corridors were blocked off by collapsed walls or ceilings, rendering them inaccessible. As she descended lower into the base, one particular destination in mind, she had to make a few detours to get around the mounds of collapsed steel. It was fortunate she had spent so much time idly wandering these halls, as she had all but memorized the shortcuts and back channels in the building, without which she might not have been able to reach certain sections of the lower floors.

A thin panel in the wall pushed open with a soft squeak, Unknown emerging from behind it as she stepped into the dark corridor. Something must have damaged the power to this area, seeing as most of the lights were no longer functioning. The hidden door fell closed behind her as she made her way down the hall, having just barely enough visibility from the occasional flickering light overhead.

Suddenly, a faint noise reached her ears through the silence, causing her to pause in the middle of the dark hallway. It sounded like a slow dragging noise, as if something heavy was being pulled across the ground. She took a few steps forward, careful to keep her footfalls light, listening quietly to where the sound might be coming from.

She heard it again. Slowly, she continued down the hall, pausing for a moment before turning right.

It didn't take long for a large hole in the ground to come into view, stretching no less than seven feet across and torn clean through to the level below. Unknown approached cautiously, coming to a stop a few feet from the edge of the gap. The power outage seemed to be affecting other parts of the building as well, considering the room below was much too dark to make out anything significant. The noise, however, was certainly coming from somewhere beyond the hole.

She remained still, hoping her eyes might adjust to the weak light barely spilling around the corner behind her. However, this turned out to be unnecessary, it seemed, as the panel light directly overhead flickered on for a split second, enough for her to see what was below. Or rather, who.

A lone, white-cloaked figure lay on the floor, a thick trail of blood smeared behind him leading to a dark puddle halfway across the room. Prominent streaks of red stained brightly against his white hair, splayed haphazardly across his back.

Chrono.

Though Unknown had never seen him without his mask and hood, only ever having caught partial glimpses of his face through the clear eyepieces, she had spent enough time around him to pick him out from a mile away. His movements were slow, shaky; he was losing blood much too quickly.

Unknown tilted her head. It was a bit strange to think she had spoken with him mere hours ago, the both of them completely oblivious to what was about to happen, how the day was going to end: the tepid realization that things change in the blink of an eye. She never liked Chrono much- after all, he was just as high strung as the rest of them- but she didn't particularly dislike him either. Perhaps it was because, subconsciously, she had long understood how similar they were, as much as she despised the idea of having anything in common with the likes of him. If this were a novel, perhaps he would be her literary foil; their mirrored personalities, their uncommon quirks, their statuses within their own organizations; each of them not pawns, but rooks: valuable pieces that were still ultimately disposable.

But this wasn't a novel, this was real life, and she couldn't stand here forever.

Unknown turned around, her footsteps light as she quietly continued toward her original destination, guided down the dark corridors only by muscle memory and the occasional flicker of fluorescent light.

By the time Unknown had returned from the depths of the underground maze, relieved to be back in an area where she could see without straining her eyes, the noise outside had all but disappeared. No more shouting, no more sirens, no more voices. Nonetheless, as she was still a ways inside the building; she couldn't be certain the heroes had all left, and deciding not to take the risk of running into unwanted company, she opted to leave through the hidden exit located near the back of the building. It opened into a small alleyway, most likely undiscovered, as the door was disguised to blend in well with the stone wall, making it rather difficult to find even for those who knew what they were looking for. She only knew about it after having seen someone use it one time, but she was confident it would get her out unnoticed.

Her problem, however, came long before she ever reached the door.

She grit her teeth, muttering a silent curse as her eyes landed on the source of her oncoming headache, completely separate from the one her quirk was already causing her.

Standing not ten feet down the hall, rigid and wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights, was an all too familiar face.

"Well this wasn't supposed to happen..." she mused, her lips curling downwards into a scrutinizing frown.

Uraraka remained frozen in what she imagined to be a combination of shock and terror, mouth opening but unable to produce a sound. She was alone, and she knew many of her fellow heroes had already left to deal with the influx of criminals. Even if some still remained just outside the building, just a scream away, she didn't know if they could reach her before-

She didn't want to finish that thought.

"Well, if you could get out of my way..." Unknown mused plainly as she continued down the hall, directly towards the young hero.

Uraraka tensed up immediately, unconsciously taking a step back as her hands began to tremble. Alarm bells rang violently in her head and she suddenly had the sudden urge to run faster than she ever had before. Her knees locked up as the image of those gruesome murders flashed in her mind, pictures of the flattened bodies she had seen on the news, splattered into nothing but blood and pulp, and she realized this was what it meant to fear for your life. She couldn't let Naoko- Unknown- touch her, otherwise she would end up just like them.

A wave of adrenaline burned through her veins, the terror flooding through her was enough to overcome her frozen state as Uraraka scrambled backward, rapidly putting distance between herself and her former friend. Her feet carried her further and further back, unable to tear her eyes away from the approaching girl long enough to even glance behind her. Her thoughts raced a mile a minute, hardly coherent even to herself.

It wasn't until she backed up into an intersection where the hall crossed another that her thoughts abruptly stilled.

Instead of continuing towards Uraraka, Unknown turned the corner, not sparing the hero a second glance as she continued down the hall.

Confusion and relief coursed through her body, as if an enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She thanked whatever deity was listening that Unknown wasn't interested in her. Remaining on guard despite this, she kept her eyes on the girl as she cautiously backed away, the full intention of bolting directly for the exit at the forefront of her mind. However, just as she was about to take off, the image of those documents suddenly came to her. Against her better judgment, she hesitated, pulled back by the memory of the shocking information they had discovered and the plan they had discussed in hushed voices afterward. She wanted to run, she really wanted to run, but a gnawing desire to do something objectively dangerous bubbled inside of her.

With her eyes still glued to Unknown's back, growing further by the second, the reality of the situation suddenly hit her, and she realized she couldn't just keep standing there.

She had to make a choice.

"Wait!"

Unknown paused and glanced back down the hall. A familiar pair of dark eyes connected with her own wide, frightened ones, and she almost instantly regretted opening her mouth. She could feel her hands begin to tremble once more, and her knees felt like they might collapse any second, but she refused to back down. Not now.

"...um… t-t-there's… I mean, w-we found… we found something you should know!" she exclaimed, forcing the words out. The other girl showed no visible reaction, and Uraraka took it as a sign to continue. "...t-the...um, the M-Manager- we found out his quirk makes people a-around him easier to influence. I-it's letting him control what you think and do! I know you might feel like you're acting out of your own free will, but you're not!" she explained as best she could, anxiety rushing through her tumultuous thoughts, hoping beyond hope the other girl didn't think she was lying. The last thing she needed was to provoke the wrath of another villain. "I-I know it's hard to believe, but it's true! The things you've done are only because of him and what he's told you! I-it's not your fault! We know he's the one responsible for putting bad things in your head, so if you just-!"

"How do you know that?"

"Huh?" Uraraka paused in surprise.

She had been too caught up in her own train of thought to notice the twisting frown that had made its way onto the girl's normally passive face: her lips downturned, her eyes narrowed sharply. Her body language was completely different from the languid carelessness it carried earlier; now her shoulders were tense, her elbows locked with both hands balled into fists. Uraraka had never seen that look on her face before, not as Naoko, not as Unknown. It was like a completely different person was standing in front of her now, and she was furious.

Fear once again tore through the young hero, the terror that she might have said something wrong constricting her chest so abruptly that it became difficult to breathe.

Upon receiving no response, the sneer on Unknown's face only grew deeper.

"I said how do you know that?" she repeated lowly, fully turning around and taking a step towards Uraraka.

Stunned, the girl could only take an equal step backward, like a meek animal facing down its predator, panic and confusion intertwining to create a jumbled chaos in her mind.

"Who told you that? What else do you know?" Unknown demanded, stalking towards the speechless girl, eyes gleaming with hostility. With each fervent step forward, the young hero instinctively scuttled back in terror. "Answer me!"

Before Uraraka even had time to flinch at the volume, something wrapped around her shoulders and sharply pulled her backward, jerking her harshly through the air. She yelped at the sudden disorientation, confused eyes darting up as her feet once again meet the floorboards.

In front of her stood Aizawa, hair standing on end and eyes glowing red, his glare fixated solely on Unknown.

"Go outside," he demanded just loud enough for her to hear, his eyes never wavering.

"B-but sir, you're still hurt!" Uraraka stammered, finally managing to find her voice. Aizawa had been injured during the raid earlier, as told by the bandages across his forehead and the gauze around his arms. He was in no condition to be taking on yet another villain by himself.

"Hurry and get outside to the others. I can handle this," he stated firmly, his fists tightening.

Uraraka was about to open her mouth again, but as her eyes flicked to the enraged girl across the hall, who still stood glaring daggers their way, she hesitated. She slowly took a step backward.

"I-I'll get help! B-be careful, sir!" she called, reluctantly turning on her heels and dashing away as quickly as her feet would carry.

A tense silence fell between the two as Uraraka's footsteps rapidly faded down the hall.

Once he was certain the girl was out of earshot, Aizawa deactivated his quirk, sighing as he brought a hand up to rub away the dryness in his eyes.

"You should go before backup gets here," he breathed tiredly.

"What the hell happened? There better not have been a change of plans," Unknown spat, her voice every bit as poisonous as before.

"No, nothing like that."

"Then who told her about the Manager's quirk? What else do they know?"

"No one told them anything. I don't know where she got that information, but I can assure you, nothing has changed. We're holding up everything on our end."

Unknown glared at him harshly, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess his trustworthiness. She grit her teeth in an effort to swallow any harsh words threatening to spill from her mouth before finally scoffing and turning around.

"Fine, everything will go according to plan. You damn heroes better be ready," she sneered, stalking towards the exit at the far end of the hall.

Before she reached the door, however, she paused for a moment, coldly glancing over her shoulder.

"You'd do well to keep those students of yours in check, Eraserhead, for their own good."

Aizawa frowned sharply, "You're in no position to be threatening my students, Unknown."

"It's not a threat, just a warning. Not all of Sacrosanct is bound to your little rules like me," she stated. In one motion, she shoved the door open and stepped out of the building, leaving behind only silence in the empty hallway.

The hidden, foreboding implications of her words did not escape him, and a simmering discomfort shifted in the pit of his stomach.

Unknown was always a risk: he knew that from the beginning. He could only hope it would pay off.