There wasn't much to say on the short walk back to their rooms. It felt strange, though: this was Tokoyami's first time seeing Dabi since they'd reached this place, and he was at a loss. Dabi had already said everything he planned on revealing about his most recent encounter with the hero. At another time he'd have to catch up with him, but now might as well have been the worst time. And so, instead of broaching any of the many subjects he could talk about, Dabi left Tokoyami alone with his thoughts. Well, "alone" maybe wasn't the right word for it. The rest of the night was spent in a constant exchange, a conversation with no end. Even when Dabi quietly slipped back into his room and left Tokoyami to his own devices, the internal discussion didn't dwindle.

The comfort of sleep became yet another illusive ideal to him for the rest of the night. He couldn't chase after a release from the waking world in much the same way that he could never fully grasp the reasons behind Hawks' actions.

It was frustrating.

And scary.

He is not scary.

That was the other thing: Tokoyami and Dark Shadow couldn't settle on a singular view of the hero. He was equal parts the hero from the past that they mentored under and this new, ominous figure that worked with villains and had unclear motives. Would he truly go so far as to kill another hero? Or was Dabi right to guess that it was some sort of hoax – that the hero wouldn't do something so controversial to get on the League's good side. Hawks had always been a persistent person; Tokoyami knew firsthand that the hero was no stranger to getting what he wanted, if their internship had been any indication of the way he worked. But he wasn't underhanded in his ways. He wouldn't just… kill an innocent person for his own goals. Right? Of course not, no. That'd make him a bad person. Or maybe just a bad hero, because they'd seen plenty of those in the fight against the MLA. But bad was subjective, too, because everyone wanted to believe they were doing the right thing. Unless you were the kind of person who wanted to watch the world burn. Even then, nobody was without their reasons – as he was learning. Whatever the case may be, the only idea that kept rising to the surface – time and time again when these thoughts challenged each other – was the most discouraging.

He's not going to help us, is he?

Does that mean that we're beyond saving?

Tokoyami stared up at the ceiling, wondering if it would cave in on him. Could this newly attained peace come crumbling down at any moment? Was he meant to wait for an opportunity of escape, or ride out his time here under the supervision of this so-called Paranormal Liberation Front?

I can't believe he would do that.

So then maybe he didn't. Dabi was skeptical about his authenticity, too.

Is that something we can ask him?

Oh, we have a lot of questions for Hawks. Whether or not we'll ever get an audience with him has yet to be seen.

Dark Shadow flitted around the room, bumping into objects and then trying to put the misplaced items back into place with apologetic care. Tokoyami couldn't blame the quirk, either – his mind was just as restless with the turn of events, and the more he dwelled on it, the harder it became to settle down for the remainder of the night. When bed offered no relief, he took to the window seat, feeling the night wind ruffle through his feathers. He searched the sky for something – someone – but quickly realized that it only made him more anxious for reasons he couldn't quite place. With a huff, he closed the window and drew the curtains. He curled up on the seat, pressing his back against the cold glass. Tokoyami rubbed his palms into his eyes.

He hadn't even seen whatever it was that Hawks had done. And still, with what he'd heard from his quirk and Dabi, what else was he to do but expect the worse?

Traitor.

Don't think that!

Tokoyami rested his head on the exceedingly uncomfortable and ornamental pillow that was placed next to the window. He didn't know what to think anymore. Even after so long caught in such a tumultuous situation and being handed from one villain to the next, it was amazing that he could still be left feeling so uncertain.

I don't want to feel like this forever. I just wish I had answers. I want to know what the future holds, even if it's unpleasant. But there's nobody who can ever possibly know that. And it won't ever be that easy, either.

Dark Shadow put a momentary pause to his energetic mischief in order to hover above his head. "But at least you won't be alone, right?"

Tokoyami placed his hand reassuringly on his quirk and sighed. "Yeah."

He didn't sleep. Not tonight, anyway. His innards were too tied up by prospects that he couldn't quite grasp and was too tired to understand in the first place. His thoughts drifted so far that they never settled on anything at all, and even Dark Shadow's night-time antics dwindled to be nothing more than listless drifting.

"Fumikage, don't you think you should sleep?"

Tokoyami blinked. "Hm? What was that?"

Pale morning light began to seep in through the curtains, making the quirk squint. "…Never mind."

Tokoyami finally did drag himself back onto the bed, giving in to temptation and tire. He closed his eyes for what might've been the briefest of moments before a knock sounded on his door. In reality, it was more like several hours that had unknowingly passed.

"Rise and shine, Tokoyami!" Spinner called from the hallway. "Compress ordered food for everyone! If you feel up to it, you should come join us."

Tokoyami breathed deeply into his pillow and kept his head buried there for an extended moment. "I'll be out in a bit!" he responded groggily, stifling a yawn.

Needless to say, it took longer than just a bit. No amount of splashing his face with water from the bathroom sink would rid this sleep demeanor and the lingering feeling of dread that clung to his feathers. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing," he admitted.

Dark Shadow handed him a dry wash cloth. "You don't have to do anything, do you? We can just take it easy for now!" he cawed encouragingly.

Tokoyami hummed, not sure if he could believe that – even if it did sound nice. He dried his face and swapped out his bandages for fresh ones, noting how quickly they were starting to heal already. Against all odds, he'd been able to escape a fight with minimal injury. Truly, how lucky, he drawled sarcastically in his mind.

"It is, though! I hate it when you get hurt so bad," Dark Shadow whimpered, responding to his internal dialogue. The quirk eyed his scars, both old and new, nervously until Tokoyami finished binding them.

"You don't have to worry about that. We… we'll do better. We're doing fine now, so it's not worth worrying about for the moment."

Dark Shadow looked him glumly in the eye, and Tokoyami squirmed under the accusatory gaze. It's not like he was trying to lie, but his words didn't feel as reassuring as he'd hoped. The quirk wasn't about to debate the matter, though: if they could at least feel safe in this place, then perhaps that was the best they could hope for until their situation could improve beyond this state of captivity. It was about biding time and understanding the current predicament.

Amidst this feeling of impending damnation, Tokoyami could at least reconcile with getting to know the other members of the League more. They'd shown him kindness in a place he never would've expected, and that meant something.

Tokoyami dressed himself in black jeans and a T-shirt, the newest additions to his slowly improving wardrobe as sponsored by the MLA. Feeling about as prepared for the day as he was going to get, he exited his room to discover what was in store for him.

"Good afternoon!" Mr. Compress greeted, watching him slink down the hall to their new favorite community space. He looked awfully content with himself for reasons that Tokoyami would quickly discover. The man had claimed a seat for himself and was taking great joy in the decadent delicacies this place had to offer. An oversized platter of sushi was placed in the center of the coffee table. Already, it'd been picked away at by everyone else, but there was still plenty more to share.

Tokoyami observed the setting with a critical eye. "Is this truly all you wanted, Mr. Compress?"

The magician waved his sashimi, expertly cradled between two chopsticks, through the air to emphasize his words. "My principles are simple, but my taste is more on the finer side of things, as it were. I see no issue with pursuing these much-deserved pleasantries!"

He sounds defensive.

I can't really blame him. I think we all want something out of this deal with the MLA.

"Heeey, you joined us after all!" Toga said cheerily. She was seated in a large, rose-patterned beanbag chair that hadn't been here the night before. She looked comfortable, lounging with her plate of food and fancy new coat. Needless to say, she also seemed immensely content with her life decisions. "Lookit what we got!"

"Yes, yes, I see," Tokoyami agreed wearily, unable to keep the laugh completely out of his voice. He approached the sushi platter alongside Spinner and they began to serve themselves before sitting on a fancy little couch that he could only imagine wouldn't last very long in the hands of these people. Twice was the only one who hadn't found a seat to sit on. No, rather, he'd pulled up a plush stool for himself, but instead of sitting on it he'd set up a little funeral shrine to honor the deceased Toga clone he cared so much about. He had sushi like the others, but it was only half-eaten and sat on the ground behind him. To each their own, evidently.

It wasn't very often that Tokoyami would just… casually be able to sit amongst the rest of the League. Why, then, did it feel so natural? The more he dwelled on it, the more he realized just how much standing alongside these villains in the fight against the Liberation Army had changed his views on each one of them. He was an included member of the tag-team group – for better or for worse.

It'd definitely be for the worse, right? Like, it looks really bad to be friends with villains.

Tokoyami hovered him chopsticks indecisively over his plate. Dark Shadow, you like being their friends. I'm the one more on the fence than you are.

So what? Toga gives me more pets than you do!

Tokoyami's face burned under his feathers. That's enough out of you!

A childish laugh echoed in his mind, but the quirk ceased his pestering long enough for Tokoyami to enjoy his first good meal in a long time.

That just left Shigaraki and Dabi unaccounted for in the impromptu gathering. He didn't expect Shigaraki to be here anyway – the villain leader held an amazing streak of maintaining his distance from everyone else, as it stood. He was too busy with these newfound responsibilities to be bothered enjoying such minor things. Maybe that's his problem. He's too fixated on finding creative ways to destroy rather than finding valuable reasons to prosper.

So then it was just Dabi that still needed to join them. Granted, he wasn't much for socializing with the other members either. Hell, Tokoyami could swear that he possessed a certain level of disdain for people in general. When these thoughts were just beginning to surface, a door from down the hall opened and the missing member in question made his way towards them.

We still need to talk to him about what's all happening.

But not now.

Dabi stopped just shy of where everyone was gathered, rubbing at the burned flesh beneath his eye in irritation. "You're all just sitting around?" he grumbled. "You all better be ready for the event – it's coming up pretty soon, remember?"

Event? Are we invited?

That may not be the best idea with our track record. And probably not, no.

"Shut it, Dabi! Can't you see we're having fun here?" Twice said mournfully.

This was actually the first good look Tokoyami had gotten of Dabi since they'd first arrived here. His recent memories of just last night were dark and muggy, his thoughts overtaken by Hawks and his crime. But seeing Dabi standing before him, it didn't feel as though anything between them had changed. No, rather, the only thing that had actually changed was his clothes – and that was perhaps the most generous thing he could think to say.

Dabi was the only one present who'd done anything to alter his attire following the series of fights. In reality, though, it appeared more like he'd taken his same outfit from before and painstakingly pieced it together in a series of stapled seams. His pants looked like they were ready to fall apart at a moment's notice – much like the rest of his body. To his credit, though, he did at least have a new shirt.

"What did you do to your clothes?" Tokoyami asked innocently, looking the messy attire up and down with a critical eye. "I know you keep extra staples on hand, but if you needed new threads after that fighting you can put in a formal request, from what I understand. That's how Toga got the coat, right?"

"And the beanbag," she added from the comfort of her custom chair.

Spinner swallowed a smirk into his closed first. "Erm, Dabi chose to dress like that. Are you trying to say you don't like his new villain outfit?"

Dabi tensed. "Like you're one to talk, cosplayer! Nobody else said a damn thing about it the first time I showed you all!"

"Settle yourself, lad," Mr. Compress said, stirring his tea with a small spoon. "We're all allowed to express ourselves however we please. Far be it me to strip the fun from such matters."

Twice sat up straighter, resting his elbow on the shrine-occupied seat beside him. "It's okay to wear tacky things if it fits your image!" he said with a reassuring thumbs down.

"Wait, Dabi, how many staples do you keep on you?" Spinner asked.

"It doesn't matter!" Dabi barked.

We ruffled his feathers.

He doesn't have feathers, Tokoyami corrected.

Neither do I, but they can still get ruffled!

"You're all wasting your time," Dabi huffed indignantly, plopping down into the only remaining seat – a stool on Spinner's side of the couch. "I don't see how anyone can be sitting around at a time like this."

"That's the spirit!" Twice said encouragingly, followed by less enthusiasm. "Nobody said you had to sit down."

"You young folks are always so hasty to get into trouble and rush head-first into such trifling matters. Why not relax a bit more? This is the kind of treatment I've waited so long to have again," Mr. Compress sighed. "These fights get harder the older I get."

Tokoyami picked at his plate of sushi. He was already getting full, and that was a nice feeling to have. "If you don't mind my curiosity, what even is your age?" he asked, turning the attention away from Dabi's selective wardrobe.

Mr. Compress took a contemplative sip of his tea and cleared his throat before answering. "Thirty-two."

Tokoyami choked.

He's what?!

"You're what?" Tokoyami wheezed, already beyond the point of saving face.

Mr. Compress scoffed. "Is that so odd? I keep up with you youths as much as I can, do I not?"

You don't act your age at all, though…

"I'm just surprised, is all," Tokoyami mumbled. To his side, Spinner held back another laugh at his expense. Not helping! "I thought for sure you were the oldest member of the League."

"Ah, don't be misconstrued, my boy! I still humbly hold that title – it's just a difference of a few months, though. From my understanding, at least." Mr. Compress perked up a bit. "That's how it is, right Twice?"

Twice was too preoccupied with his little shrine to heed the magician's inquiry. He sighed sullenly, tapping the sides of a standing bell with a small striker.

As if this was a reasonable response, Mr. Compress leaned back into his seat with a reaffirming nod. "And so it stands that I can finally let these old bones rest while we reap the benefits of a battle well fought."

Dabi narrowed his eyes. "But you didn't do shit," he pointed out.

"Ha ha! Nonsense, I was amazing at running away!" Mr. Compress boasted. "And my med kit came in handy. Why, where you do think Miss Toga would be if not for my efforts?"

Toga shrugged. "Honestly, I'd probably be sitting in the same place. Twice did most of the work, from what I heard."

Tokoyami watched each person around him in turn. As strange as it was sitting in the midst of them all, there was a pleasantness to it as well. He couldn't claim to know all of what they were about, but he understood the people here and felt somewhat comfortable. Conversation came easy and was generally lighthearted while also enabling him to learn a bit more about them.

Spinner leaned over the platter of food for another helping, quietly counting out the remaining pieces. "You not gonna eat this, Dabi?"

He turned his back to the offer, waving it aside. "Go ahead. I hate fish." Tokoyami couldn't tell if that was true or if that was his abrasive nature keeping him from enjoying anything that was being shared amongst the people who'd taunted his staples.

Whatever the case, it's nice that Mr. Compress got his wish fulfilment, but next time we should probably order food that we'll all enjoy.

Ooh, ooh! We should get some yakitori! Dark Shadow cawed.

We don't know if everyone here likes chicken… that's why I suggested we ask first.

But we can still get that for ourselves, right?

Tokoyami considered that. Maybe. Though I don't think the Meta Liberation consultants would take kindly to us making special orders on our own.

What makes you say that?

Another overly exaggerated sigh escaped from Twice's mask and filled the room with reinvigorated grief. "Ah… poor Toga. I'm so sorry," he sniffled, spilling his heart to a lifeless picture. "If Toga hadn't shared her blood, then Toga would have…"

"Knock it off," the real and still very much not dead Toga interrupted, rolling her one good eye. "It's creepy, since I'm still alive."

"How about I stop creeping people out? How about that?!" Twice pouted, forcefully kicking over the little Toga shrine he'd been so infatuated with mere moments earlier. Tokoyami winced as the newly framed picture shattered on the ground. He couldn't help but notice how equal parts frustrated and crestfallen Twice was with the sudden development. "Ack! Stupid leg!" he sniveled. "Stop kicking things without permission!"

Dabi leaned in and whispered to Spinner. Tokoyami tilted his head in with them, casually overhearing. "I thought he overcame… whatever his issue is…"

A frown pulled at the corner of Spinner's mouth. "Looks like that forced remedy only made things worse," he suggested, not entirely sure what to make of Twice's current mental state.

Do ya think this is just part of his grieving process? Dark Shadow asked innocently.

Tokoyami got up from his seat and walked over to where Twice was moping on the ground with split uncertainty. I can't say for sure. If this is how he feels when a friend passes, then the best thing to do is be supportive… I think.

But that Toga was a clone.

Tokoyami righted the seat that Twice had kicked over and began picking up the spilled items. When Twice saw what he was doing, his indecisive personality chose a side and began helping him in the clean-up.

"Dammitall, I don't need you dealing with my messes, kid," he complained thankfully under his breath.

"It's not a problem."

As soon as they got the shrine rearranged, the door leading to the rest of the mansion opened. Tokoyami wasn't expected an unannounced entry, giving him a start that bumped into the shrine. Twice stabilized it before anything could knock over again, and all heads swiveled to the intruders.

"It's time. Come on." A lanky man with long dark hair and a clean suit entered the room and immediately gestured for the people in the room to follow. Behind him trailed another man, dressed in similarly smart attire but with the addition of an overcoat and prescription sunglasses.

Tokoyami wavered on his feet. Who are these people?

Hey, Fumikage, don't ya think that guy is glaring at us an awful lot?

Tokoyami tried to turn inconspicuously towards who his quirk was indicating, but the moment his sights landed on the person in question he found himself staring straight into a thinly concealed scowl. Hm? You mean him? It only makes sense that there's people who are angry with – ah. Hold on. Damn this cursed outcome. I recognize him.

He's one of the main guys, yeah?

Tokoyami wilted under the accusatory eyes of the intimidating figure, desperately trying to avoid any guilt he might have in the matter. It was hard, though, because he couldn't acknowledge the man without seeing the angry red scars that divided his face.

Three long streaks ran diagonally down his features, spilling out from behind his sunglasses. They were jagged and still in the process of healing, but thin enough in some places that they didn't need to be fully bandaged. As Tokoyami traced his gaze across the bloody lines, he recalled that politician who'd been leading crowds of the Liberators against them – and the well-placed attack from Dark Shadow's very claws that had ripped his mask asunder.

Dark Shadow twitched his claws nervously, suddenly very self-conscious of them. You don't think he's the kind of person that would hold that against us, do you? I mean, that wasn't even the worst thing that happened in that big ol' free-for-all.

Dark Shadow, I beg of you, you needn't remind me.

Dabi stood up and stretched. "Finally," he growled, ready to leave.

Twice helped Toga up from her seat and Mr. Compress tidied up the table before putting on his mask.

Tokoyami looked over questioningly at Spinner, wondering if he would explain where the others were heading.

"Oh! Uh, it's time for our debut, I guess," Spinner explained with all the confidence of someone who didn't fully know what was happening. "I don't think it's something you really need to worry about."

"That's what you think," Dabi interrupted. "Kid's coming with us. He's one of us, so it'd be weird to leave him out of this, too."

Trumpet looked down at him disdainfully. "He hasn't been integral to any of the discussion points that we planned for this event. Why have him along now?"

Dabi stepped forward – not threateningly, but rather to show off his new-found authority. His tattered overcoat curled around his crudely stitched pants in a way that – Tokoyami had to admit – was pretty cool, and he briefly caught the unmistakable scent of smoke. "Because he operates under me and I said so," Dabi explained evenly. "I thought you were eager to establish trust with us?"

Trumpet quickly dropped his contempt and smiled in the way that only a politician being put on the spot could. "Of course! Excuse my hasty judgment. Allow me to show you the way – everyone's waiting."

Everyone?

Tokoyami was curious, sure, but his nervousness kept his wits about him. He'd have to be careful how he operates under these people, especially if he'd earned himself a foul reputation amongst these MLA leaders. It wasn't the best feeling. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of his experiences in Overhaul's headquarters. That had been an actual living nightmare. The greatest solace, incidentally, was the fact that he had everyone from the League here to back him up if anything ever goes awry.

The League was guided through the grand sweeping halls, admiring the expensive architect and elaborate staircases. In his mind, he looked for exits and mapped escape routes just for the sake of knowing. This time around, he wanted to be prepared for anything. Aside from that, it was also hard to ignore their guides in this scenario.

The more Tokoyami walked alongside these MLA executives, the more he began to quickly understand them – at least on a surface level. Skeptic did a poor job of concealing his emotions, venting his frustrations with the League in a not-so-subtle manner. Ultimately, it just sounded like he was being overworked due to the usefulness of his abilities and influence. Trumpet, meanwhile, composed himself in a much more dignified air of professionalism around the League. That patience was lost on Tokoyami, though, as he never missed the way Trumpet would look down upon him. Though they'd only encountered each other once before this arrangement, those first impressions had left an unforgivable mark.

But that'll heal, right?

I'm not so sure. It's a pretty nasty scar…

They reached the ground floor of the mansion, whereupon Trumpet pressed a small button on his watch. The wall opened up before them, revealing a concealed hallway that they entered into. Tokoyami descended the flight of stairs, passing under alternating florescent lights and candlelit sconces until they came upon a large, nondescript elevator. There were no signs or indicators on it, and it only had a down button that showed various basement levels hidden from anyone on the outside. Skeptic pressed it, and after a drawn-out wait they were lowered into a whole new plane of existence.

It's like we're being ferried into the depths of hell, Dark Shadow observed.

That's not fair. We don't know what to expect from this. At least we have an idea of hell.

The elevator doors opened up with a pleasant ding, and Trumpet ushered them into the final stretch of their brief but nerve-wracking journey. "For the uninitiated, this is just a simple stage show: walk to the front of the stage when the signal's given and just stand there. Is that understood?"

His question was met with mixed levels of care and enthusiasm.

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Mr. Compress declared with a tip of his hat.

"Sure, whatever," Twice said. "I'm not gonna make a big deal about it!"

"U-um, right!"

Spinner's nervous, Tokoyami realized.

So are you.

…Maybe so, but the rest of the world doesn't need to know that.

Tokoyami heard them before he saw them: voices. So many voices rising and falling in anticipation for what was to come that it was enough to drown out the conversations in his head.

Trumpet forged ahead of the others, walking boldly out onto the stage to stand next to his Grand Commander.

"Don't pull any smart shit," Skeptic growled next to them, regaining his composure mere moments before stepping into the gathered spotlights that filled the open space.

"What… what are we supposed to be doing here?" Tokoyami asked fretfully, his mouth going dry.

"Our best!" Twice declared confidently. "You got me stumped there, just do what you rehearsed!"

Tokoyami bristled at the suggestion. "I didn't rehearse anything because I wasn't going to be part of anything!"

"Then I think that's on you, bud."

Wha—! Hey wait, no!

Dabi came up from behind and nudged him with his elbow, giving him a start. "Just make yourself known to the masses. They need to know that we're strong and capable enough to lead them."

From the stage, Re-Destro began his awe-inspiring speech.

"Liberation Warriors! I am Re-Destro!" The crowd roared to life at his summons, filling the impossibly large room with echoes of elation and fidelity. "As of today… the Metahuman Liberation Army is reborn!" He was seated in a custom wheelchair to accommodate his injuries post-battle. Beside him stood another chair, preoccupied by Shigaraki. The villain leader chanced a glance behind him when Trumpet joined their side, and that's when he saw that he'd applied a grisly hand to his face, same as he would on previous occasions.

He wasn't the only one to notice, either. Toga tilted her head thoughtfully and held her hand in front of her face like she was trying to figure out something important. "I thought all of Tomura's handy-hands got busted up?"

Spinner fidgeted restlessly at her side. "One of them survived," he whispered back. "It's a miracle it stayed intact in all the chaos."

"Yeah, cuz it's like his defining gimmick," Toga agreed.

He heard the little interactions spreading through the small group, but it was hard to pay them much mind as the grand scale of what lay before them stretched into view.

Tokoyami's breath hitched in his throat.

That's… a lot of people…!

The onlookers standing below them no doubt numbered in the thousands, waves of Liberation followers standing in wait with bated breath. Amongst the crowd, intermingled with the conglomerate specks, was the massive hulking figure of Gigantomachia. He was seated on the floor as if he was any other attendee, and somehow that made his appearance all the more menacing.

My stomach feels like it's rotting. I can't let all these people see me like this. I look… like everyone else on stage! Tokoyami took a shuddered breath, fighting the greatest battle of keeping his nerves steady.

Is that bad? Because we're not bad, but we can still stand next to them, right? Dark Shadow asked.

N…not if there might be heroes in the crowd, too!

Do you think Hawks is here?

Caught up in the stark realization of what he'd just walked into, Tokoyami jumped when the microphone broadcasting Re-Destro's tirade broke into static. The corporate coordinator's words were completely lost on him, but he tuned back into what he had to say for the sake of not missing anything important.

"I now see that Tomura Shigaraki is a true liberator!" That's a terrifying idea. I can't see him as being any sort of "liberator" regardless of what anyone might say… "It is out of deep reverence and necessity… that I abdicate my position! The Liberation Army is revived with Tomura Shigaraki as its Grand Commander! In light of our commitment to walk a more profound path of liberation… our Liberation Army and the League of Villains will conduct a merger under a new name!"

To his side, Toga and Spinner were still muttering over something, but they stopped when a signal was given from the stage urging them to walk up to stand with those waiting for their timely arrival.

"Oh. Pssst, let's go," Toga whispered, taking the lead onto stage. Dabi kept steady pace with her, and Mr. Compress followed a step behind. Twice gave them a head start before breaking into a run and sliding onto his knees at the last moment in what could only be a show-stopping pose that brought him right to the edge of the stage. Spinner trailed at the back, steeling his resolve as best he could through layers of frayed nerves.

Tokoyami shuffled nervously on his feet, trying for all intended purposes to stay out of the line of direct sight while sticking as close to Spinner as possible. If Spinner was going to linger near the edge of the crowd, then he could damn well do the same. And yet, despite everything he'd gone through to reach this point, he'd never felt as exposed as he did standing here. This is it, as it were: new beginnings to a rebranded cause, but the end goal hasn't changed at all. It's only brought certain destruction closer.

From the sides of the stage, Skeptic came onto stage as well, along with somebody else that he didn't recognize at first. Tokoyami had to stop and think for a moment before a memory from the fight came flooding back to him: the person Dabi was fighting, the ice-user that had looked at him with unbridled rage when he'd shattered that ice tower. Here the lieutenant stood, hood down and face stony, expressing no emotion in the matter. Re-Destro continued now that everyone was assembled.

"The League's Spinner and I devised this name together. Now, tell them what it is, Tomura Shigaraki!"

…I didn't realize Shigaraki was qualified to be a public speaker, Tokoyami mused, peering over Spinner's shoulder to witness what their leader was about to announce.

Shigaraki scratched earnestly at his collarbone with the remaining fingers of his left hand, cursing his business-appropriate apparel up until the very moment his microphone earpiece was turned on. He fumbled with a slip of paper in his other hand and squinted through his disembodied hand mask to read the small print. "Uh…" A pause. This is what happens when you don't rehearse. "We removed the 'Villain' part and expanded on the concept of liberation," he explained in a deadpanned manner. "I give you the Paranormal Liberation Front!" Tokoyami got the impression that it didn't really matter what he said, because the audience was bound to accept it as irrefutable doctrine. Re-Destro had already rallied the mass of devout followers into a frenzy – passing the torch had been the easy part.

Shigaraki continued, undaunted. "Furthermore, I appoint the nine –" He paused, giving a quick head count of the people on the stage until his eyes landed on Tokoyami with a piercing glare. "—ten individuals you see here as my lieutenants, who will each be forming teams suited to their separate needs."

Roars of acceptance rose up from the crowds yet again, drowning out any chance there might've been to question the arrangement that had just been set into stone upon the grand stage. In the midst of celebratory cheers, Tokoyami stood shell-shocked.

Did he just name me a lieutenant?!

I don't think we're qualified for that! Dark Shadow wheezed.

No, that's not—! I can't be an enemy faction leader, that'll make my position look worse than ever before!

His quirk snaked around panicked thoughts, trying to piece together some sense. Maybe it is just a name. It might not have any real meaning. He probably just said it 'cause we were standing up here anyways!

Then why does it feel so deliberate?

A hesitant tap on the shoulder freed him of his spiraling contemplations. Spinner had stuck near the back of the crowd the whole time, even when his name had been used in Shigaraki's dialogue. Looking at him now, he looked more anxious than ever before – not usually one to make public appearances, as it were. Though the differences in why they didn't want to be at the front of the stage were apparent, they were united in their nervousness all the same.

"You doing alright?" Spinner asked with a grin composed of strained confidence.

The resounding cries of continued support filled his head and drowned out any attempt to remain firm. Under the stifling stage lights, it all felt like too much to be standing idly by for. "I-I'll be waiting, uh, back by the exit," Tokoyami mumbled, stepping farther away from the edge of the stage.

All these rallied cries. The shifted loyalty and exchange of power. This many people choosing to follow them – follow Shigaraki – could only bring a new wave of terror upon the precariously tilted world. It was amazing. It was overwhelming.

It was a dark future. And Tokoyami held his hands in it.