-The Buu Incident-
CHAPTER ONE: TERROR UNLEASHED
For a brief moment, the universes spawning across multiple realities aligned, down to their very atoms.
It was an improbable and unlikely fluke not seen in eons. Such events were usually harmless in nature, for the mighty walls within the veil prevented the eldritch horrors living inside of it—and those from beyond—from passing through. Even when those threats somehow persisted, the great deities overseeing it all would often step in to ensure balance reigned supreme.
Unfortunately, things would unfold differently today.
For the briefest of moments, the multiversal scale tilted. In that instant, all semblance of order and equilibrium was lost, allowing chaos to rule above all else.
Meanwhile, in one of the parallel worlds, two titans clashed in their final battle, their very universe at stake. The heavens rumbled and rattled with every world-shattering strike. A surge of rosy and azure energy collided—
—and the fibers weaving the two worlds cracked and shuddered, coming apart under the monumental and incomprehensible forces bearing down upon them. The adage 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.' couldn't have been more fitting.
As the swell of unstable energy reached its zenith, a burst of raw and infinitely destructive force bled through the forming cracks, shining primordial light into the stygian void for the first time in untold millennia. The wound then spread forth through time and space unimpeded, the anomalous fissures growing and seeping into everything like a tumorous growth.
By the time the great deities had shifted their burning gaze towards the unforeseen incident in their dominion, small and seemingly inert fragments of pink flesh managed to slip through one of the rifts, escaping certain oblivion by the smallest of margins.
The deities, wholly aware of the terror about to befall those outside their reach, did their best to try and stifle the threat with impunity before the universal wounds scarred over. Their attempts were in vain, however, for their great power faltered upon breaching past the void. Attempts to rouse the guardians at the other side were met with absolute silence.
Finding themselves out of time and unable to destroy the primordial abomination, they instead focused on a final, vehement attempt to scramble and scatter its arcane essence through the stars while they still had the ability to do so. Partially successful, they diverted what remained of their limited esoteric energies into bestowing a small blessing upon the worlds beyond.
As they reflected upon their fateful actions, the remaining fractures shuttered, the link between the two universes permanently severed. Would the blessing manifest within one worthy and pure enough to make a difference?
Had they done enough to save those beyond, or at least done enough to give them a fighting chance?
Forever out of sight and reach, they would never get to find out.
On this fateful day, life across Japan—and the world itself—would be changed forever.
[ Musutafu, Japan ]
The skies above the lively city of Musutafu darkened, much faster than it was typical for an afternoon thunderstorm. Most citizens paid no mind to the occurrence, for there were crazier things they had witnessed before.
When men could easily change the weather with a mere punch, it made such events seem downright trivial and meaningless.
As the city carried on, a turbid mass of swirling darkness forced itself into being through the firmament. The ominous and deadly cyclonic anomaly groaned and pulsated with a life of its own, its core broadening as it fought to remain cohesive through impossible realities and ravaged timelines. Within its raging maw, flashes of crimson lightning illuminated the remnants of burning worlds and desolate, broken universes.
Separated from the fundamental energies that gave it form, the passage between worlds buckled into itself with the equivalent energy of a thermonuclear weapon. From its very center, a burning mass erupted at inconceivable speeds.
When the heavenly rumble reached the streets below, the startled citizens finally paused to stare at the commotion. Their eyes widened in fear as they became painfully aware of the dispersing vortex in the sky, and even more so at the roaring fireball heading their way. Panicking as they attempted to flee, numerous calls flooded the Hero Network as the object loomed closer and closer to the tallest skyscrapers.
Rivulets of what remained of the sizzling tissue burned to ash, the discombobulated splotch struggling to maintain any semblance of sentience or physical attributes as it dealt with the after-effects of the unexpected dimensional transition and foul tampering of divine origin.
Out of control, it found itself gutting the side of a skyscraper, and then it punched cleanly through three more buildings before it embedded itself deep into the streets below. The force of the impact unleashed a tremendous shockwave that pulverized a veritable portion of the neighborhood with impunity. Vehicles were sent tumbling into heaps of scrap, utility poles warped away, and storefronts exploded inwards.
As the smoke and dust clouds settled, the distressed screams of panic and pain from those who failed to make it to safety began to echo through the wrecked city block, their cries muffled by blaring alarms and roaring fires raging out of control.
Not too far in the distance, the frantic sirens of the Police Force and emergency vehicles became audible.
Regaining some of its limited mental capacity, the disfigured, charred blob began to whine and twitch erratically within its burning, earthly confines, bubbling aggressively as it fought to regain most of its lost biomass. Its form straightened, slowly standing upright until it sprouted a pair of pudgy legs. A set of equally robust arms followed, and eventually, a rounded head formed as its body regained a healthy rosy tinge. Then, two rather confused and beady eyes opened, settling into an upwardly slanted, squinty shape.
"Buu," The blob finally uttered as it...no, he became self-aware once more, steam billowing out of the newly formed holes around his head, shoulders, and chest. With a pop, an antenna emerged out at the very top of his head. His rimmed vest, boots, cape, and pants materialized next as he completed his physical manifestation.
Buu let out a whoop of excitement upon feeling whole again!
...
The wave of fervor soon faded. No, he wasn't whole. He still felt wrong, woozy, light. Something was amiss in his body. Thoughts and memories that should have been there simply weren't. An old, familiar connection felt broken and it made him feel hollow and frustrated.
It also made him...
"So hungry," He remarked as he patted his gut, pressing the meager supply of energy available beneath his body to rise over the deep crater and explore his surroundings. Maybe eating some food would make him feel better.
Placing a thumb and finger upon his plump chin to help him think, he eyed the neighborhood, looking for any signs of familiarity. Buu found that no matter how hard he tried to remember, he had no clear memories of this place. The city looked so shiny and new, much more advanced than those he encountered the last time he awakened from his slumber.
Then again, everything felt somewhat familiar as if he had been in a place like this before. These big conflicting thoughts made Buu's head hurt, so he let his mind wander to his surroundings again. Everything around him was in shambles, and there were so many loud noises and screams that made his sensitive ears ache.
It didn't matter. He was hungry.
With that, the Majin's quest for sustenance and fun started...
...and for others, a nightmare just began.
Within minutes of the incident, a sizable assemblage of emergency and law enforcement personnel had zeroed in on the scene, preparing to both engage an unknown attacker and render assistance to the wounded and trapped. Firetrucks were already dousing the flames trying to grow out of control in buildings and wrecked vehicles while the Police Force cordoned off a large section of the city blocks nearby. Countless people had already flocked to get a peek at the curious and rather destructive incident.
The diesel engines of the heavily armored First Response Unit personnel carriers growled deeply as they turned into the street at full speed, their thick tires screeching to a halt a few hundred feet away from the wreckage. Reinforced doors at their very back slammed down on the asphalt, and two dozen of Japan's elite officers marched out of them, prepared to take control of the developing crisis until the Pro Heroes arrived.
"Go, go, go! Non-lethal rounds only unless I say otherwise!" The commander barked. Just like his men, he was covered from head to toe in intricate body armor that resembled SWAT gear. Over his shoulder, he carried a large caliber rifle and a non-lethal riot shotgun. He holstered his rifle to brandish the shotgun for the moment.
His subordinates shouted an agreement as a single unit and spread out in groups of three, switching their choice of weapon as ordered while they cautiously swept through the wreckage. Behind them, EMS technicians were moving forward as well, all protected by a wall of riot shields wielded by the Police Force. They did their best to hurriedly pull out the wounded as fast as they could, ready to retreat at once if the situation escalated.
Ground zero wasn't a pretty sight. As the special forces made their way through the ever-worsening chaos, it was all but certain casualties were going to be plentiful. Storefronts were gone, cars mangled to hell, and the road itself was reshaped into an uphill cliff that ended in an ominous-looking crater that was still smoking and glowing.
When they approached the sloping, superheated surface, the forward teams froze. Out of sight, something began to rustle and shift. Then, what sounded like an old a steam train whistle went off. The commander switched to hand gestures, ordering weapons to go hot. Behind him, the groups merged into a single rank.
"So hungry," A child-like voice remarked from beyond.
Everyone stiffened as they watched something float up from the crater.
Their body was considerably bloated and stumpy. They wore odd, white baggy trousers and a black gold-laced vest, with golden boots and gloves to match. A purple cape was haphazardly tied around their neck, flowing almost down to their feet. Around their large waist, they wore a dark belt, ending in a golden buckle with the letter M artfully engraved at its base. Their mostly humanoid features ended there, as they had some sort of ponytail-like antennae on their head, surrounded by multiple vent-like openings that also ran down their arms. Instead of ears, they had two cup-like protuberances with an opening at their base. Every inch of their skin had the texture and look of bright, pink bubblegum.
In a different scenario, their appearance would have been considered comical, just like some of the weird Mutant-type Quirks around. However, the absolute carnage around them and the palpable sense of danger oozing out of the stranger stopped any such thought from coming forth.
The man—or what they at least assumed to be a man based on their clothing, voice, and physical attributes—then continued to float upwards until he paused to regard his surroundings with curiosity, apparently oblivious to their presence as he happily hummed to himself.
'He has a Mutant-type Quirk, so how's he able to fly? That shouldn't be possible.' The commander thought as he swallowed the lump trying to form in his throat. He moved forward, his shotgun aimed at center-mass, and ready to pull the trigger if the villain twitched wrong. "You there! This is Isao Tanaka, commander of First Response Unit Delta. You are hereby placed under arrest for violating the Public Use of Quirks mandate, causing Level Two Property Damage, and recklessly endangering or harming civilians through Quirk usage. Hands up where we can see them, now!"
Taken by surprise, Buu froze mid-hum, swiveling slowly on the spot until his eyes finally settled upon the armed officers. His unimpressed gaze then focused on the large group of flashing emergency vehicles behind them before shifting back down to them.
Without saying a word, the villain complied and dropped gently onto the ravaged street with a hefty thump. It was only then that they were able to finally grasp just how massive he was; he towered a good two to three feet over everyone present. Even his circumference was intimidating, easily dwarfing almost four men width-wise as if he was a freakishly ginormous Sumo wrestler. Or a terribly bloated Fat Gum, if that was possible.
Leather gloves creaked as more than a few fingers tightened around their respective triggers.
Smirking, Buu resumed his jovial humming as he scrutinized every single man standing before him, showing little to no regard for the twenty-plus shotguns locked onto his form or the danger the elite teams posed.
"I said hands up!" Isao shouted as he pumped his shotgun threateningly, taking a valiant step forward. He wouldn't let a worthless thug intimidate him—
—the villain's eyes then locked onto his own, his merry humming halting. The air seemed to be drawn out of Isao's lungs as it grew heavier around his body. His training and sense of duty urged him to disregard his wavering resolve and move forward to subdue the threat. However, deep down in his mind, the voice of reason and self-preservation suddenly yelled at him to back off and retreat...
To run. Why did he feel like this?
"What the hell is he?" One of the men voiced the unspoken question most did not wish to ask.
Huh, they were feeling the uneasiness as well. That wasn't reassuring. Sweat began to drip down Isao's helmeted face, his trigger finger now trembling slightly. The damn villain showed no signs of submission, concern, or fear even when the odds were severely stacked against him.
So be it. Stomping down on the surging dread, he gritted his teeth as he willed himself to take one more step. "Surrender now, villain! Last warning." He growled out with finality, the threat of impending violence hanging heavy in the air as the shotgun was moved closer to the pink giant's chest.
More shotguns were cocked as they closed the gap further. They raised their crosshairs to actively target the massive man's torso, feeling empowered by their superior's show of gutsy assertiveness.
"You want to play with Buu?" The Majin asked candidly, his head tilted with inquisitiveness as he stared right at the weapon's barrels.
To think such a seemingly innocuous statement could instill so much unease in a man's heart.
As expected, there was no response from the special forces, and they refused to back down. The men on the outer edges of the line moved to flank the villain.
Buu grew impatient. Maybe they wanted him to start the game. He moved towards them—
And all hell broke loose.
"Fire! Open fire!" Isao shouted as he depressed the trigger. The rest simply followed their survival instincts and unloaded their weapons upon the looming villain. A hail of deafening non-lethal rounds pummeled his flesh relentlessly as every operative pumped shell after shell into his broad torso until their weapons ran dry.
Once the gunsmoke began to thin out, the group took a cautious step forward. Quirk suppressing bindings were procured as they prepared to shackle the downed villain—
—but there was one problem with that plan; the villain wasn't down. As a matter of fact, he was still standing on the same spot, with both of his pudgy arms resting proudly on his waist, boastful of his achievement. Every single rubber bullet had impacted him head-on, the powerful kinetic projectiles simply sinking slightly into his gut, setting off miniature ripples around the concave 'wounds' that still danced and wavered around as if he was made out of pure Jell-O.
Buu retained his bemused smirk, displaying no outward signs of pain or injury. He started to giggle; the loud boomsticks had tickled his belly quite a bit. They did want to play. Maybe his hunger could wait a bit.
"Okay! Buu play too!" He squealed out with the excitement more likely to be found in a five-year-old than an 8-foot giant, sticking a meaty thumb in his mouth.
Eyebrows were raised behind riot helmets. Undeterred by the bizarre villain's behavior, the men didn't waste any time loading more rounds into their shotguns—
"Catch!" Buu cheered before blowing on his thumb, his cheeks puffing up like balloons.
Isao stiffened as the vague memories of a decades-old incident resurfaced in his mind. His world shifted into slow motion as his honed instincts kicked in, the evasive maneuvers taking place before he could even think about performing them or think about warning his men. By the time he was able to voice a warning, it was already too late.
He helplessly watched how in that half-second, every single indentation in the pink villain's gum-like flesh suddenly popped back to its original form. With that simple action, the countless rubber bullets buried in his body were sent whence they came, their momentum multiplied beyond measure.
It was a blessing his team was trained to deal with extraordinarily aggressive and fast-moving Quirk users, and it was only thanks to that skill that a portion of his men was able to dodge the unexpected barrage mostly unscathed. Mostly. The ones that saw him dashing to safety and followed him avoided the worst of it. Those that were too slow to react weren't so lucky, and they were sent flying back as a multitude of overpowered rubber bullets smashed into their body armor with a loud and cringe-inducing crunch.
The villain gazed his way, his smile playful and wicked. Isao felt that strange, dreary pressure upon his body again, and nary a moment later, he was forced to dodge once more as a barrage of what once were harmless bullets was redirected his way—
—but this time, he was too damn slow. One bullet grazed his rib shield, outright cleaving off a portion of his vest and kicking the air out of his lungs. Another smashed into his shoulder plating, and the composite armor burst to pieces before the broken rubber buried itself into his clavicle. The ridiculous force behind the projectiles threw him back to crash onto the road like a sack of shit.
"Damn it," He wheezed as he tried to get up, but the pain shooting down his arm, rib, and neck made him fall back. He couldn't move his left arm anymore!
It was only then that he heard the cacophony of raw screams from his men. Spurred into action, he stubbornly climbed to his knees. As he did, he got his first look at the carnage the villain had wrought. His heart dropped.
Five were curled up and writhing in misery, a well-placed bullet shattering the reinforced fiberglass faceplate in their helmets, their screams descending into sobbing as they cradled their bloody, broken faces. Ten more were laid out flat and appeared to be out of action, either squirming in pain or downright unconscious. One was able to get back up, but his leg was twisted unnaturally at his knee joint.
It was hard to believe all this havoc had been caused by non-lethal rubber bullets. Jesus...
Isao shook his head as he came to his senses, seeing red as he stood up. Unexpectedly, the bastard didn't make a run for it. Most would have if they knew what was coming next, but not this freak. Instead, he simply stood there with a shit-eating grin as wide as his face as he glanced at his violent handiwork. He was proud of it!
He seethed. The risk for further collateral damage and casualties was too high. Over half of his unit was wiped out already. He had to be dealt with, now!
"Enough of this bullshit." Isao spat out venomously. "If you had a death wish, it's been granted!" With his functional arm, he cast the riot shotgun aside to bring up his assault rifle. "Howa's up! Lethal force authorized, light him up!" He shouted, disabling the weapon's safety without a second thought as he backstepped from the villain.
The Howa Type 89 Assault Rifle was a powerful weapon, and one of the reasons the First Response Units were universally respected and feared by perps and villains alike throughout Japan. Its 5.56x45mm cartridge bullets with steel penetrators guaranteed their payload would take down anything but the most powerful or well-armored Quirk users.
Isao was certain this fiend wasn't well-armored. He had flexible, rubbery skin; something that could be easily negated with some lead.
Aiming at his extremities and center mass, the able-bodied F.R.U. teams returned fire as one, regaining some of their professional decorum in the process. The villain's body shuddered with each strike, and Isao's theory was proven right when he witnessed the 5.56mm rounds wrecking through his elasticity Quirk, carving a gruesome and deadly path through the freak. Pink chunks splattered everywhere as he let out warbled cries of anguish, his body disappearing in the building haze of gunsmoke and atomized tissue.
"Enough! Hold your fire." He barked once the villain's cries went silent, feeling certain the job had been done. Heeding his command, his men halted their firing. No one moved for a good twenty seconds as they tried to peer through the cloud of thick, gray gunpowder and bullet-shredded road. Upon seeing their commander's shoulders slacken in relief, the others mirrored him.
It was over.
As the remainders of the smoke cleared, they prepared themselves for the gory sight—
—but instead, a collective chill ran down their spines.
There he was, his clothes, chest, and extremities riddled with dozens of see-through holes as if he had been turned into Swiss cheese. A stray bullet mangled his jaw, and one nicked his throat, producing grody, open wounds. His legs were so damaged there was no possible way for them to hold his colossal weight, yet somehow, he still managed to remain upright, his upper body unsteady and teetering back and forth.
Isao could see no muscle or bone through the gaps or seeping blood for that matter. Was this thing some sort of genetic experiment or a machine?
Buu's eyes snapped open as he straightened himself.
"T-there's no way..." Isao muttered incredulously as he took a few steps back, his weapon hanging loosely over his shoulder. A few others echoed his concerns as they slowly retreated from the monster, his mangled appearance more akin to a ravaged ghoul.
"You no playing nice. You try hurt Buu! You all bad, bad man!" Buu cried out, indignantly stomping his boots on the ground as his mouth twisted into a disgruntled scowl. The asphalt beneath his foot cracked apart, the force being imparted upon it sending a widening fissure through the brittle street, making the men stumble and dart for stable ground.
With a puff of his cheeks, a wave of liquefied, rosy fluids danced around his open wounds, sealing every bullet hole in a matter of seconds as if the damage to his body or clothing had never happened. His eyes opened further, and two tiny, beady pupils peeked through briefly as a feisty smile stretched his thin mouth. "Now Buu hurt you!"
The malignant pressure trying to suffocate them thickened, sinking into their very pores until it became unbearable. Oh, God.
With his knees threatening to buckle, Isao stumbled backward, his underlings mimicking his actions instantly as they felt the unit's nerves and morale crack. There was no doubt in his mind they could all feel the same sense of impending doom bearing down upon them now.
He turned on the communicator dangling from his armor's chest pocket, his speech shaky and uneven. "Everyone retreat now! Focus on suppressive fire—"
A fast-moving pink and golden blur ended his broadcast abruptly. Before he could process what had happened, he was backhanded across the street and right into the glass storefront of a building. Body armor rendered worthless, pain spread like hot fire across his head and spine as he tumbled to a stop, his lower back buckling as it struck a solid barrier. The awful sound of bones snapping throughout his body was the least of his worries as he heard his team members shout in concern for his safety, and then in fear for their own.
Isao turned his head towards the sound of multiple Type 89s going off, the firing patterns erratic. He couldn't tell if they were putting up a desperate last stand or if they were retreating as he commanded. He tried to get up, tried to do something—anything— to help, but his body would not move. Broken spine, he guessed grimly. He couldn't even speak.
As another wave of despaired screams reached his ears, his eyes grew heavy. Mind-numbing pain quickly turned into an uncomfortable tingling sensation, and soon enough, everything went dark.
In less than a minute, the rest of the First Response Unit used up most of their ordnance reserves. Spent shells continued to rain down upon the broken road as they retreated from the advancing villain. Even with the constant barrage of hot lead serving as suppressive fire, his advance did not falter in the slightest. If anything, it appeared as if he was healing faster by the second!
Moments later, five more men had been taken out with terrifying ease.
As two limp bodies careened through the air, the villain's childish, carefree laugh resonated through the neighborhood.
One of the men downed earlier managed to get back on his feet. He gawked at the unfolding massacre, his mind in tatters. Screaming in a vengeful frenzy, he charged at the pink giant with an oversized combat knife.
The amused Majin just stood there, allowing the sharp blade to plunge into his gut multiple times. It hurt a little bit, but not enough to merit imminent action. "You very weak," He jeered, jabbing a finger on the man's chest armor to provoke him further.
Infuriated beyond relief, the stabbing became more frenetic. The puny man then began to holler curses, and his fury seemed to intensify when he saw the wounds begin to heal much faster than he could inflict them. Snarling, he withdrew a small service pistol out of his leg holster, unloading every single round into the villain's head—
Or at least that's what he intended to do. A massive golden glove moved—much faster than he could comprehend—to cover the handgun's barrel, giving it a firm squeeze even as he kept feathering the trigger. The sound of warped steel greeted his ears, and just like that, his last resort was rendered useless.
Buu grabbed the disheartened man by his vest, lifting him a good three feet to meet face-to-face. He didn't seem to enjoy being hefted like a child, and he spat at the Majin defiantly, swinging the combat knife wildly until it was snatched away from his grasp.
"Why the hell won't you die, you fat piece of goddamn sh—"
And just like that, Buu's snickering fizzled away, his face darkening when the wad of spit struck his cheek. Coupled with the brash verbal abuse, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Frowning, the Majin flicked the mean man hard on the forehead—
—and the top half of his helmet disappeared in an explosive cloud of crimson.
Buu gaped. "Oops. If Buu hit too hard you break," He noted disappointedly as the man flopped lifelessly to the ground, his gloves now stained red. He'd have to be more careful if he wanted them to last longer whenever he played with them.
A despondent wail caught his attention, just as he felt another surge of hot metal piercing his body. Not too far in the distance, a mournful red-haired man emptied the last six bullets in his magazine, striking Buu a few times in the head and chest. The man wore the same tactical uniform as the others but he had discarded his helmet, apparently feeling as bold as the puny man Buu had just broken.
When they cheated and used guns, Buu didn't feel like being nice to them.
He smirked, and his body blurred into motion.
Back at the main rallying point for all of the emergency personnel, the mood was uneasy and tense. When gunshots began to ring out, the Police Force ordered the rescue teams to retreat as they took defensive positions behind the heavily armored First Response Unit carriers. Service weapons were drawn, and riot shields were held at the ready.
The constant report of rifles going off in the distance worsened, the muzzle rattle growing louder and nearer. After some time, the skirmish appeared to die down to nothing. It was then that everyone jumped when their radios went off with a wideband broadcast.
"Evacuate the damn neighborhood while you still can! He's taken almost everyone out! Oh God, he just killed Hirano!" A pause filled briefly with gunshots. "N-no, get away from me!" A terrified scream ended the transmission.
As if on cue, a faint scream was heard. The sound increased in pitch and intensity until a flailing body smashed right into an ambulance's windshield. Instantly, everything descended into chaos. Those close to their service vehicles fled in them, while the others simply ran. The Police Force officers holding the riot shields broke their line upon sighting the pink villain, and they fled carrying as many of the wounded as they could.
"Woohoo, Buu wins!" The Majin cheered, waving his flabby arms in satisfaction as he watched the last silhouettes retreat into the safety of the streets beyond. As they did, one of the men shot a large canister at his feet, and it detonated into a cloud of obnoxious fumes that blocked his sight.
He was somewhat disappointed to see they didn't want to play with him anymore. Was it because he broke a few of them? They were so weak! Maybe that's why they needed to use guns to play with him.
Before he decided to pursue them, a peculiar scent caught his attention the other way. It was pleasant and sweet, making his belly let out a ferocious growl. Following the delicious aroma, he soon found himself facing a building with a very colorful sign indicating it was a bakery. Its glass front was still mostly intact, and beyond it, there were dozens of pastries of all sizes and flavors illuminated by spotlights.
Cakes, donuts, everything.
"Yum yum! Buu wants!" Practically drooling, the Majin patted his rotund gut as he plowed through the glass window, letting it collapse against his body as he neared his target.
So many choices! Leaning over the heavenly desserts, Buu—
"—Not so fast, you punk!" Someone called out from the street, the gritty male voice sounding highly distorted as if he had spoken through a helmet. "Come out and surrender peacefully and you will not be harmed."
"You leave Buu alone! Buu hungry!" The Majin yelled back without sparing much of a glance at the man speaking, frantically waving his arms as he ripped away the display window to reach the baked goods within.
"You asked for it, pal!" Thump-thump-thump.
Every display case in the bakery exploded into a cloud of shrapnel, sugar, and atomized flour as they were peppered by relentless machinegun-like projectiles. Buu's squinty eyes twitched sporadically, cracking wide open in shock as he stared at the heart-wrenching devastation unfolding before him. Pieces of glass and debris bounced harmlessly against his gut and face as he stared, aghast at the unraveling travesty.
Nothing remained of the tasty food! It was all gone!
Balling his fists, Buu let out a frustrated, ear-splitting wail as he spun around to face the ones responsible for this."You take Buu food!" He exclaimed in a shrill tone, a pudgy arm pointed accusingly at the bakery's remains.
Three men stood a good distance from him across the street. The first was a tall and extremely muscular man with spiky white hair. He had a sharp, square jaw and a thick, bright yellow headband with stripes. Around his wrists and waist, he had large metal guards and a buckle with the same pattern. Most of his torso was exposed through his cardigan. He looked strong and grouchy, his mouth set into a long, downward scowl.
The second man was rather thin and springy with short brown hair, wearing an annoying bright yellow honeycombed bodysuit that covered most of his body, cutting off at his arms below the elbows and right below the kneecaps. Covering both hands and feet he wore a large set of gloves and boots with many pieces of shiny lenses. Over his chest, he had a logo that displayed a blazing sun and a zig-zag sunray pattern. His eyes were covered by some sort of mask and face paint. He looked weak, out of breath, and worried.
Gaining most of Buu's attention and anger was the man who stood ahead of the other two. He had long, pale mint-green hair and a white face mask with four holes that resembled gun muzzles. Just like the first, he exposed most of his toned body through an open gray bodysuit that partially covered his arms too. Over his chest, he wore some sort of open body armor.
What stood out the most to Buu were the two revolver-type bracers wrapped around his wrists, aimed directly towards him. They were still smoking from recent use.
He gasped. "Gun-man ruin food!" The Majin denounced in a piercing tone, a gloved finger pointed at the man briefly, then at the bakery's general direction to emphasize his conclusion. Small rivulets of steam spewed out of his head vents.
"That I did, villain." The stranger replied cooly, appearing rather unconcerned with the infuriated behemoth across from him.
"What are ya going to do about it, gumball?" Behind gun-man, the other muscular stranger taunted, smashing both of his meaty fists together with a resounding thump as if to challenge him.
Buu's gloves creaked as he balled his fists tighter, his pink cheeks taking a red tinge. He was hungry and mad! So so mad! He pointed towards the gun-wielding stranger again. "BUU WILL HURT YOU!"
Hero Network Police Force Database
[ PRELIMINARY INCIDENT BULLETIN B-01]
-LIVE UPDATES ONGOING, REPORTING FROM SCENE-
[ Suspect/Villain: DATA UNAVAILABLE. Refer to Update 03 for potential name ]
HEIGHT: 7-8'(ESTIMATE)
WEIGHT: 350-400lbs (ESTIMATE)
RACE: UNKNOWN
SEX: MALE
EYE COLOR: UNKNOWN
SKIN TONE: PINK(MUTANT-TYPE QUIRK)
APPEARANCE:
WHITE BAGGY PANTS, GOLDEN BUCKLE WITH STYLISED "M" EMBLAZONED AT BASE. BLACK OPEN VEST WITH ELABORATE GOLDEN TRIM. LARGE YELLOW GLOVES AND BOOTS. PURPLE CAPE. ANTENNA AT TOP OF SKULL, CUP-LIKE OPENINGS FOR EARS. VENT-LIKE CREVICES ON HEAD, CHEST, AND ARMS. BRIGHT BUBBLEGUM-LIKE PINK SKIN.
REPORT:
First encountered in Downtown Musutafu, the suspect appears to have fallen from an unknown location thousands of feet above the city, producing significant damage as he crashed into Hason street. Four buildings suffered moderate structural damage, with most of the severe damage focused within the impact crater. Little is known about the suspect. His body is massive, easily dwarfing most Pro Heroes' body mass, perhaps excluding Fat Gum.
Mutant-type Quirk noted. Emitter-type Quirk noted.
Addendum: citizens and officers injured on-site. Rescues underway. Ensure civilians remain four blocks away from the scene!
[ UPDATES ]
Update 01:
Police Force observed attempts by First Response Unit to subdue subject via non-lethal means have failed. The suspect appears aggressive and-[connection to network lost]
Update 02:
SEVERE FRU CASUALTIES REPORTED. FRU TEAMS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN OR FLED SCENE.
Update 03:
Rescued members of the First Response Unit have reported the suspect referred to himself as "Buu"(?). Further research in the Police Force database for "Buu" has proven unsuccessful with such an alias.
Update 04:
THREE CAPABLE PRO HEROES ON SCENE. SUBJECT SHOULD BE SUBDUED SHORTLY. FOLLOWING UPDATES ON NEXT BULLETIN.
[ CURRENT THREAT LEVEL: D ]
ONLY PRO HERO ENGAGEMENT RECOMMENDED! FIRST RESPONSE UNITS INEFFECTIVE!
*REQUEST FOR FURTHER ASSISTANCE AND THREAT UPGRADE FROM HERO NETWORK MIGHT BE REQUIRED.*
A/N:
Hello everyone! I've had the ideas for this story stuck in my head for a good while. This was originally a one-shot, but seeing others enjoying it as much as I did, I decided to make it a full story. I'm not sure where it's headed, but things might not end well for our heroes or villains. I want to explore how our heroes and villains would deal with such a terrible threat, not only mentally, but as a society. I want to push them in every way and see what they can achieve when they're pushed to the brink.
Feel free to leave a review! I hope you've enjoyed it so far.
Note: All chapters are being rewritten. Things have gotten rougher and grimier, and things might lead to an M rating sooner than expected. I had a specific mood I wanted to set up in this story and I wasn't able to capture in the first drafts, but it's now heading in the right way. Rewriting in progress through May-June 2020.