Tartarus wasn't necessarily a bad place.
The food was surprisingly decent and the temperature of your cell always seemed perfectly set.
Maybe it was actually two hot or cold but after 10 years or so you tend to get used to everything.
At least that's how long Stain thought he had been strapped in his cell.
When they said no information from the outside, that meant that even the date was a question they wouldn't answer. The sound, or rather the lack of sound was what really got to you.
Near perfect insulation and harmonics meant you couldn't hear footsteps if they didn't want you to.
Thats why it was so noticeable when he felt a slight tremor, just the faintest of vibrations, it woke him like a slap in the face. His eyes widened as he saw the guards running a second before the armored window turned opaque.
Whats going on he thought, trying to manage his excitement.
He could only make out the slightest shaking outside of the room but the battle must have been massive.
Then suddenly it stopped.
Who won? The answer was quite clear when the window shattered.
Standing among the broken and bleeding guards was a young man in a simple black hoodie and mask. Stepping through the broken glass Stains eyes widened as he recognized him. Though his face was hidden he knew the way he moved.
The hidden figure removed Stains muzzle and let if fall.
"This is quite unexpected"
"Things have changed quite a bit since you were arrested" his voice was distorted into a robotic tone.
"How long has it been?" the former killer asked.
"10 years and 3 Months" the masked man continued, cutting the straps to his strafe jacket.
"I know you must have a lot of questions but suffice to say, You may have been right."
Stain dropped from the harness and shrugged off the straight jacket.
"Im not quite sure how to feel about that"
The figure shrugged "It's not really my problem"
He dropped a bag to floor that spilled open an assortment of knives.
"So what, partners now?" The hero killed inquired, picking up a serrated long knife. He still remembered the familiar balance and he twirled it in his hands skillfully.
"Distraction" the distorted voice said.
"I could just kill you right here?" He emphasized with the point of the blade.
The masked man didn't even flinch. "We both know you're smarter than that." he said turning his back and stepping out the window. "The other cultist that are attacking will help you."
Stain grudgingly lowered his sword and accepted that he was right.
He was 10 years out of practice and even if he could hold his own he knew that guards would be swarming soon.
Stain just wished he could understand why he had freed him.
In the deepest depths of the prison, All for One didn't get many visitors. But every now and they All Might or some government suit would come to talk.
It gave him some entertainment every now and then to see them try and get him to empathize. Like ants trying to reason with a god. He smirked slightly as the light that indicated a visitor in the viewing room blinked on.
"Who is it today?" He asked knowing the monitoring station could hear him.
"It's not important" a distorted voice came in through the speakers. "Just here to tie off some ends"
The viewing window was still opaque. Strange.
"Tie off? They government decided that they don't need me anymore" He chucked, he had enough quirks to keep him alive through any execution they could attempts.
No response came through the speaker. Something definitely didn't feel right. He was about to make his move when he felt, oddly empty.
Then his arm melted. It burst into flames and started to wiggle and grow bones.
The rest of his body spasmed as quirks began to activate uncontrollably, burning freezing and growing all manner of limbs.
For the first time in his life, he screamed in pure terror.
"I do blame you for a lot of this but I wish this could have been more painless." The voice came back through the speaker. "I figured the government would have something in your cell to finish you if it ever needed to."
The once mighty villain didn't have a chance for another desperate thought before the last cells of his body imploded, turning him into a puddle on the ground.