THE FOLLOWING IS A FAN-BASED PARODY

I OWN NOTHING ABOUT THESE PROPERTIES

THEY ARE OWNED BY THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS

PLEASE SUPPORT THE OFFICIAL RELEASE


Locker Room 102

Bass Armstrong, known to the world as the strongest man who walked gods green earth and the undisputed king of Pro wrestling, felt a smile cross his face.

Despite the concentration and effort, the blood, sweat, and tears he spilled into every workout, today made it all worthwhile. Because he knew in his heart of hearts that this particular workout was for more than just himself.

No, no, no. This workout, this show of strength, and this display of dominance were for all the young lions watching him. Waiting for the moment that he would slip up and show his age.

Professional Wrestling was a grueling and punishing business. One that would flay the skin and break the bones of those who weren't strong enough to survive both the grueling punishment of the ring and the grueling schedule outside of it.

150...

151...

It was a business where you were only as good as your last match and one where the fans, those who paid good hard-earned money for the pleasure of watching men put their bodies on the line, could and very well would make or break a career.

It was also a business where the young and hungry up and comers would eat the old and complacent. Men half Bass's age would do almost anything to make it to the industry's top. Something Bass knew from experience.

Like a lion besieged by younger males ready and willing to snatch his position at the top, Bass knew he had to show every one of them he wasn't the grey-haired old-timer they thought he was.

180...

181...

Seeing the looks on their faces made every moment in the gym worth it. Every cocky punk who stepped through the locker room door thinking they were the most brutal guy on the block learned quickly that there were levels to this business. Their once confident eyes shone with shame with each practiced motion Bass performed. Then, like junkyard dogs coming face to face with an angered bull, their snarls and growls disappeared as the reality of the situation set in.

That they weren't on his level.

199...

200!

The roar that escaped Bass's mouth eclipsed the dull thud of the giant dumbbell dropping to the floor, like a body falling off a barn house. Bass moved his colossal form to look at the conquered states of his audience, smiling even wider as he noticed many wouldn't even meet his eyes as they shuffled away from the unfolding scene.

"Not today," Bass thought to himself as he rolled his massive shoulders, feeling stronger than he had ever had before." Ain't no one stronger than an Armstrong!"

"I thought I heard the rumblings of a bear" a voice broke Bass out of his thoughts, the thick accent of the voice shooting Bass back over twenty years in the past." So it seems my original theory was accurate after all."

Tall and broad the figure moved towards him, his blazing red hair hanging loose and framing his hawk-like face. Bass had met his fair share of men in his career, but not a one seemed to hold a candle to the type of man Wolf Hawkfield was, in and out of the ring.

"Hawk!" the colossal Texan shouted, his deep voice echoing off the locker room walls, looking akin to a great bear excited to see a large wolf enter its territory." How the hell are ya!"

The red-headed man scoffed. A small smile filled his features as he took the giant man's paw into his own.

"I've been well, friend," the serious man spoke, his eyes bearing into his larger companion's face."I've been enjoying the quiet these past few years."

Wolf Hawkfield was a man known for many things. However, he was known for his skill and velocity in battle, in and out of the wrestling ring. The Japanese wrestling circuit knew him as "The Blood eagle," whose speed and agility made him a nightmare for whoever was unfortunate enough to stare across the ring from him.

The luchadores of Mexico called him "Death from above," whose red facepaint had become as iconic as the silver mask of "El Santo" for his willingness to put his body on the line for the crowd's roar. But it was the nickname Bass gave him when he first met the man nearly 20 years ago that had stuck.

"The Canadian Destroyer" A force of nature as unforgiving as the wilderness that birthed him. The matches they had together were the stuff of legends.

But that was many years ago. The man before Bass had retired from active competition several years back to focus entirely on the restoration of his tribe. Long since marginalized by local authorities and government, Wolf Hawkfield applied the same strength of character and indestructible willpower he used in the ring to the outside world. The skills that made him nearly unstoppable in a fight helped him secure land rights that had been ignored for centuries and preserve the forest and trees he loved.

Many men would like nothing more than to hang up the trunks and enjoy the fortune and pleasures a life on the road had made them, but Wolf Hawkfield was not like average men. It was why Bass liked the man so much. Any man who had a just cause to fight for could consider Bass Armstrong a friend.

"But I'm surprised to see you here!" the powerhouse spoke, his voice loud enough to carry throughout the room." Retirement not to your liking?"

"The opposite, actually." the man said as he sat down on the offered bench." Unlike someone, I know exactly when it's time to call it a day. I'd still be in my cabin if it wasn't for the charity tonight."

Bass crossed his arms across his chest with a pleased and toothy smile. Call him a big ol' softy, he dared you, but he couldn't help but feel the fire of pride envelope his chest at the mention of the night's cause.

It started as just an idea many years ago. It was a little something to give back to those who needed it the most, those who life seemed to leave behind. It had been his late wife's dream, and he was happy he could see it all come to fruition.

But the " Antoinette Armstrong Association" had grown into something more than he or even the saint his wife could have even imagined. More than just a simple soup kitchen and local food drive in his hometown, it had grown into one of the most significant nonprofits in the country, with multiple chapters in multiple cities worldwide, whose sole reason was to help those in need.

"Well, I'll be damned." the giant said with a smile."And here I thought you were just in town to see an old friend!"

"Perhaps we can share a drink or two later tonight." the stoic man smiled." I see familiar faces wherever I go in this city, it seems. Perhaps we may celebrate the night the way only real men can."

"Now your talking!" Bass said with a roar, imagining the drunken shenanigans the future awaited. "You said you've seen some familiar faces, right? So who else are you thinking?"

"I have it on good authority that my old rival Taka-Arashi will be making an appearance tonight." The red-headed shoot fighter said, his tone lighter than before at the mention of the sumo wrestler." I'm sure he would love another chance to challenge you to a drinking match."

Bass smiled at the thought. The sumo could be a bit pushy, especially to those he didn't know, but as soon as someone got past that, he was as good of a drinking partner as anyone else Bass had met. Of course, it was always good to have someone who could hold their liquor to tell their war stories with. But, of course, nothing was worse than having some lightweight pass out halfway through the night...

"I've been told Jacky Bryant is due to make an appearance tonight," Wolf mentioned, looking like he took some enjoyment out of seeing someone become uncomfortable with his words.

And who would Blame Bass! Jacky Bryant was a hot-headed punk who was in desperate need of a good ass beating. He knew the kid since he was just a brat, and all he ever seemed to care about was that damn hotrod of his. There were few things Bass hated more than pretty boys who knew they were pretty boys. But most of all, Bass hated Jacky for being the first boy on who his little princess had a crush. Bass growled at the thought of the light of his life, barely 13 years old and already being interested in boys! And not just boys! Someone like Jacky Bryant!

Thankfully the crush subsided, but It still kept Bass up at night. To think his sweet princess lowering herself to the level of someone like Jacky Bryant or any other man who wasn't good enough for his lovely starlight...

"I apologize if my words had upset you, "Wolf said, his voice returning to its normal tone. "If I knew it would upset you so much..."

"No, no."Bass waved it off. "Ain't your vault. Kind of got lost in the past, is all."

"It always does the heart good to remind itself from where it came from."The spiritual shootfighter said, his solemn voice carrying a lot of weight." But do not drown in it, friend."

"You don't have to worry bout that!" Bass Exclaimed, already readying himself for the battle ahead." I was just thinking ta myself I needed a real tussle. I'm sure Jacky seems as good of a dancing partner as any."

Bass struck a pose against one of the full-body mirrors that filled the locker room. His muscles bulged in places he was sure most men didn't have places. Already the night was promising to be a good one, and it wasn't even Show Time yet!

'"I have a good feeling bout tonight."Bass thought with a smile."It's gonna be a night to remember."


Locker Room 201

John had a sinking suspicion that Cortana knew precisely the situation she was putting him in, and she enjoyed every minute of it.

He sat alone, off in a lonely corner of the crowded changing area, doing his best to ignore the stares the other occupants were throwing his way. Outlandish outfits and equally outlandish personalities filled the room, as stark a contrast to John's normal as one could find. Nevertheless, John forced himself to endure the most challenging part of the mission, the waiting.

The plan was simple, or it should have been simple. Sign up as a competitor for this charity exhibition. It was Simple enough to compete in a single match while dragging the contest out to give the girl and Cortana enough time to finish what they needed to do. It got him inside the building where the target was easy enough, and while not as direct as what he was used to, it allowed him a level of incognito that was new to him.

There was no need to sneak around security guards or hack camera systems when he was supposed to be there.

Cortana was insistent ongoing with the girl as they confronted this Lisa Hamilton and her knowledge of Victor Donnovans plans and just what part the girl who had fallen into their lives played in it. But in all actuality, John had the sinking suspicion this trip was far more personal for them than they would admit openly.

The girl needed to do this for her own sake.

That much was clear.

But despite the logic and simpleness of the plan, he still couldn't shake the idea that Cortana was maybe enjoying his situation a bit too much.

He had no proof of it. Cortana would deny such a thing, then smile that same knowing smile as she detailed how her plan was logical and the easiest available option according to the details of the situation. In many ways, Cortana, like most things, was right about this particular plan in getting close to the target. Even he had to begrudgingly admit her plan to keep the attention off the backstage was also the least destructive and most manageable way they could go about their plan.

"Hey!" an unfamiliar voice said, the voice aggravated and filled with slowly building anger." I'm talking to you!?"

The master chief felt the desire to scowl but controlled the urge. Just because Cortana was right about her plan being the best option didn't mean he was happy about what he had to do or happy about who he had to be around when he did.

John turned his head to look at the man speaking to him, seeing only dark hair slicked back with what looked to be a shocking amount of hair gel. His fashion looked equal parts flamboyant as it was impractical. His shredded and cut jeans contrasted with the well-worn leather jacket he wore. The younger man's scarred face did little to soften when he noticed John's attention was placed on him, growing more aggravated the more time went on.

The man was one of the dozen other men who lingered in the locker room, waiting for the event to start in earnest. But out of all the other combatants, who watched him in interest or fear, the man before him was the only one who looked generally angered as he looked at him.

"Can I help you?" John said simply, trying his best to defuse whatever situation the man before him wanted to start.

It didn't seem to work. If anything, it only seemed to anger the young man even more as he took another step into John's personal space. Usually, this would be where John rectified the situation, but John bit down his instincts and training for the time being.

There were far too many witnesses watching the scene unfold for John to secretly dispatch the man. So instead, he would have to wait and bide his time.

Think of the mission, he thought. Think of the mission.

"Yo Diego." a voice called out to Johns left, cutting the growing tension between him and this Deigo." You ever try not being a dick to strangers? A friendly " nice to meet you" would do you wonders."

The newly named Diego turned to look at the newcomer as he sauntered closer. The smell of leather and gasoline met his senses before the blonde entered John's vision. He walked with a swagger that few could copy, each exaggerated movement creasing his dark leather pants and what looked to be a civilian-issued motorcycle jacket.

"Bryant." Diego said, his voice filled with venom as he watched the blonde get closer, "Surprised to see your face within a hundred miles of a charity."

"What can I say?" the man said, sitting down next to John, far too close for his liking, with a relaxed look on his face." My agent says it's good promotion for the Grand Prix next month. Who am I to say otherwise?"

John already felt lost from the conversation. It was clear the two knew one another, but he couldn't be sure to the extent. Civilians were never clear with their relationships, friendly one moment and antagonistic the next. It gave John whiplash just thinking about it.

"Another rich boy."Diego looked dismissive as he shook his head, staring at the newcomer with contempt as he watched the blonde lounge without a care in the world. "Here, I thought I could get a decent scrap before the next tournament."

"Keep talking like that, and you'll get more than a scrap." this Bryant said, challengingly looking at the other man's face. The tension John hopped to dissipate, returning full force. "Would be a shame if that face of yours got another scar on it."

"If this is how you two are gonna act." the master chief said, his deep voice taking the attention of the two men away from the other." then do it somewhere else."

"Shit." a smile crept onto Diego's face as he stared into John's eyes, enjoying that John did not even flinch from his gaze."And here I thought you were just another nobody! You got some fire in you after all."

"What's your name, stranger?" the blonde questioned, his own curiosity piqued for the time being as he stared at John." Can't say I've seen your face before."

Chief sat still, the silent mantra of "think of the mission" pushing him forward. So this was what Cortana worked so hard to set up, after all.

"Halsey." John said, his tone even and measured despite the situation."John Halsey."

"Never heard of you, "Diego said dismissively, already growing bored of the situation.

"Now that's just rude." his blonde counterpart said, running a hand through his spiked hair. "has anyone ever told you that you come off as a bit of an asshole."

"If you got such a problem with how I act." the man responded, thankfully choosing to ignore John the more prolonged the conversation became." Maybe we should take this outside, and we can work our differences out."

"And beat your ass without an arena of onlookers watching?" the blonde said, his eyes ablaze with emotion as he stood up to get into the other man's personal space." So don't worry your pretty little head over it. When I kick your face, the whole world will see me do it."

John said nothing, only turning the conversation out the more the two men spoke. It was clear they knew each other, and he had become the focal point of their discussion for whatever reason. How long the two were planning on doing this, John didn't know, but all he could do was hope it would be over soon.

But he doubted it.

"All right, boys," a gruff voice broke out. All attention in the room went to the source of the voice. The man was on the short side, thin and gangly, the type who looked out of place surrounded by "professional" fighters and men who weren't afraid of violence. A loose ponytail and the last semblance of hair on the man's head framed his owlish features. A pristine suit completed the image.

John couldn't help but think of an ONI operative when he saw the man. Someone who was far too accustomed to controlling people through unspoken influence and bribery.

John disliked him instantly.

"We're about to start. So I want to go over the ground rules before you start throwing yourself out there." the man said, putting on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses as he began to read off the clipboard in his hands." I don't want anyone here to make a fool of themselves in front of millions of people."

The men around John grumbled at the statement, but John couldn't be too sure whether it was the mention of rules or the implication of embarrassment.

"As everyone here already knows, this is a charity event." the man started, his eyes narrowed as he looked at each of the men in the room. "Which means I don't want one of you to try and do anything stupid, you hear me?"

"What a load of crap." Diego said under his breath, already complaining about the lack of serious action he would be facing tonight." Should have stayed home if all we were going to do was hold hands and play pretend."

"Don't tell me you thought Pro wrestling is real?" Bryant said, equally as soft as to not gain the attention of the rest of the occupants of the room." So how old are you? seven?"

John stared silently at the small man, partially to ignore the continued arguing of the two men closest to him but primarily to gather as much intel about the behind-the-scenes of the organization he had signed up for.

"Nothing underhanded, no cheap shots, and No stiff blows." the man continued, readjusting his glasses as he did so." The big man doesn't want anyone to get hurt when it comes to his charity. He's serious about this."

"Can't believe Armstrong would be averse to a little blood and broken bones." The blonde Bryant said with a questioning look on his face.

"It's what happens when you start to get old," Diego responded, disinterest radiating from his eyes. "You start to lose your balls."

"Remember, boys. This is for charity, so I want you all to leave the egos out of the ring and put on a good show." the man was interrupted as the doors to the locker room swung open with more force than was necessary.

The scattered muttering of the room stopped as a large man walked into the room. His dark hair was tied in an elaborate bun, one that John had once seen in a book describing the tradition of Sumo wrestling.

He wore a sneer that looked to be permanently etched onto his face as he stared at every man in the room. The man reminded John of a juvenile Jirahanae, which wasn't good.

"Well."Bryant said, turning his attention to the newcomer "there goes the neighborhood."

"Did tubby get lost on his way to the buffet?" Diego scoffed as he eyed the towering sumo.

"I'd love to see you say that to his face."Bryant said, his voice serious as he elbowed the tan and scarred young man in the gut." Taka-Arashi is one of the toughest guys on the planet. I've seen him open palm slap guys twice your size into dreamland."

"Cool." Diego responded with a smile." Maybe this place might be worth staying at after all."

John stayed silent, his face emotionless as he watched the sumo meet his eyes, the faint sound of a gravity hammer filling his ears as the giant sumo's eyes focused on him more and more.

"Mr. Arashi!" the small man said, skittering to the giant." So lovely to see you have arrived! Please take a seat. We are just about to begin."

The man said nothing before moving again, his form moving slowly and deliberately as he moved closer and closer.

Just great.

The sumo stopped in front of him, staring daggers down at John where he sat, the sneer on his face morphing into a cruel mask of arrogance.

"You're in my seat." the sumo legend said simply, ignoring the intake of breath from the rest of the room's occupants as he continued to stare down the sitting man. "Move."

The room was silent, waiting for John to move out of the way to show deference to the Yokozuna like many would without question. But John said nothing, only staring up at the sumo wrestler with impassive and emotionless eyes.

"No."

The silence was deafening. The single word echoed against the walls like a gunshot.

"What," the sumo said, spitting the words like they were poison as if speaking the words had caused him physical pain." Did you say?"

"I said no." John repeated, his eyes not wavering for a second."Find another seat somewhere else."

"You got some balls, Halsey." Bryant said, more to himself than to John." Not enough brains, though."

"Either you move on your own power." The sumo said, leaning further into John's personal space, intending to envelop the man in his mighty presence and overwhelming aura." Or I will move you on my own."

For a moment, Chief was silent, simply staring at the man before him with emotionless eyes. Before he decided to stand up. He made sure he was slow to rise, enjoying watching the sumo's eyes widen slightly as his eyes shifted upwards to John's now taller form.

"You can try."The room took a collective breath as John's presence seemed to take up the room's entirety." I wouldn't recommend it, though."

The room was still as the two men who took it upon themselves to crowd around Chief silently watched the scene unfold, waiting for the inevitable. However, to the shock of all, it was not the towering stranger that blinked first. Instead, the Sumo king took a tentative step back. His ceremonial robe swayed from the movement as he reassessed the situation.

The towering figures stayed still, staring at one another like two warlords from across an ancient battlefield fighting over land and gold. Before, John's will proved superior.

Taka-Arashi, the great Oni and undefeated god of sumo took another step back, his form wavering slightly but his eyes never leaving Johns as he moved towards an empty bench. No one in the room seemed to breathe until both men sat back down, but still, the room remained quiet as if the occupants of the room were afraid a single word uttered would throw the room back into chaos.

"Holy shit." the scarred street fighter said, staring at someone he thought was just another nobody a few moments ago. "Holy shit."

"Well, that was unexpected, " the blonde racer responded, replaying the scene inside his head to fully wrap his head around what he just saw.

John ignored the whispers as he sat in his seat, the two young men who had become his companions Staring at him with disbelief. As he did so, it was something he was used to. The man he had stood up to continued glaring at him from across the room, unspoken promises of violence radiating from his eyes was also something he was used to.

John could only sigh at the situation. The night ahead of him promised to be more challenging than he or Cortona had predicted.

"It's gonna be a long night."


Locker Room 301

Lisa Hamilton leaned back into her chair as she watched the young girl in front of her fidget where she sat. Milagros Nogueira, or Mila as she preferred to be called by everyone who wasn't her grandmother, was excited. Bursting with energy and literally vibrating in her seat as she stared unblinkingly at her phone as she registered what was happening to her on social media.

Mila was trending all over the internet. Her name was being talked about by hundreds, no scratch that, thousands of people from all over the world. Lisa couldn't help but smile at the sight. Some may call her callus; she would even admit as much in her darkest moments. Lisa couldn't help but agree with what many of her detractors said about her behind her back. She was hard and could be challenging to work with. Being a perfectionist meant she expected the same from others as she expected from herself, which was a lot. Despite the venom spoken about her, Lisa was smart enough to see a lot of truth in what they said. But one thing they could never say about Lisa Hamilton, Ph.D. and M.D, was that she wasn't supportive when it came to the small number of people she was close to.

"You know it's not healthy to stare at your phone like that." the Lucha libra mistress said with a chuckle, her words almost causing the younger woman to drop her phone to the ground in surprise." It's gonna damage your vision."

"I'm sorry." Mila looked apologetically at Lisa with an embarrassed smile on her face. "It's just a lot to take in all at once."

Lisa smiled at her friend's honest reaction. It was one of the things that Lisa liked about Mila when her best friend Tina Armstrong had first introduced the two of them. Mila's Honesty and chipper attitude were a breath of fresh air compared to the uptight and cynical she had dealt with in her previous profession.

"I get it," Lisa said, lacing up her boots in preparation for tonight's match. "I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming the first time it happened to me."

Which wasn't true. If anything, Lisa had hated the limelight when she was younger, all too used to isolating herself to her work in a lonely science lab. It was an attitude she had shaken mainly off these past few years. But she chalked that up to fully embracing her new life away from the horrors she had committed in her quest for scientific advancement.

But Mila didn't need to know all that. She was the type of girl who needed to understand her feelings weren't to be ashamed of or something she needed to hide. So a little white lie seemed a reasonable thing to say if it meant the living embodiment of sunshine in front of her remained unjaded from the world.

"Oh, that's a relief." Mila said as she let herself breathe, relief flooding her features."I thought I was being weird again."

"Sweetie, there's nothing wrong with being happy about something." Lisa reminded, her voice mimicking her own mother's tone when Lisa was busy studying for her first master's degree." Now go squee or whatever little kids do nowadays."

Mila shot her a hurt look, but the smile on her face showed Lisa the MMA fighter meant it as a joke. Mila had come out of her shell these past few months. Anyone who hung around Tina Armstrong long enough couldn't help but absorb some of that girl's limitless confidence even if they tried. Tina always had that effect on people, after all.

Speaking of Tina...

"Any word on our favorite Cowgirl?" Lisa asked, almost concerned by her best friend's absence." It's nearly time for the show to start."

It wasn't like Tina to be late to an event, especially one like this. No matter how busy she was, Tina always made it a point to make time for her fans, especially when it was for a good cause. Out of all the hats Tina wore in her professional and personal life, Lisa knew that the Co-founder of the charity organization that honored her mother was the one Tina was most proud of.

"That's because, unlike you," a dark voice sounded off in Lisa's head, "Tina is a good person."

"Oh yeah, she called while you were in the shower," Mila responded, unaware of the dark thoughts that gripped her friend. " Her flight just landed a little while ago, and she's on her over here as we speak. She also said THE Pai-Chan was with her! Isn't that amazing!?"

"Yeah." Lisa said, forcing emotion into her voice while intaking a deep breath." It's been a while since I've seen Pai. Hopefully, Tina doesn't insist on a drinking contest when we go out."

"I'm going to be seen out in public with Tina Armstrong AND Pai-Chan!?" Mila said, more to herself than to Lisa, as she held herself to control her excitement." I can't believe it! Does my hair look good? How's my Makeup?"

"Mila," Lisa said calmly, her voice like a beacon in the storm of Mila's emotions." You're about to get into a cage fight on live TV. Your hair and Makeup are gonna be ruined regardless."

"Oh yeah...right," Mila said with a chuckle, scratching the side of her face in light embarrassment. Something that only endeared herself to the older woman more and more." It's just tonight is gonna be the last chance for fun we can have before the tournament starts. I want everything to be perfect!"

The tournament...

Lisa grew still and silent as the words bounced through her head. Images of Hayate strapped to an operating table with electrodes attached to his head, the sight of countless bodies burned and eviscerated because they were "not perfect enough" for her employer's standards. The screams and cries that still haunted her waking moments.

The blood and tears, the broken bones, crimes against human decency, and fundamental human consent. The DoA tournament reminded her of all of it and the terrible things she had done to further her thirst for knowledge.

It was the reason why she decided she was going to decline the offer of joining this year. But, of course, Tina and Mila would be disappointed. The two had been looking forward to spending time together. But this was the first step for Lisa to put that part of her life behind her.

"Hey, Lisa." Mila said, her voice taking Lisa out of her thoughts."Are you okay? You got real quiet all of a sudden."

"I'm fine, sweetie." Lisa said, putting her "mom friend" voice on as she patted the younger woman's shoulder" I just have a lot on my mind as of late."

A knock on the door stopped Mila from responding as the two women turned to see who it was. The door opened, revealing a slight and petite figure clad in jeans and a hoodie that looked too big for her small frame. She looked familiar, but with the hood up and the dark glasses covering most of her face, Lisa couldn't put her finger on why.

Suddenly Lisa's confusion turned to horror as the figure removed her hood to reveal the familiar copper head hair that traveled down her back. Her horror turned to disgust not towards her visitor but to herself as Lisa saw the haunting brown eyes hiding behind the sunglasses. Lisa could do nothing but stare unflinchingly at the eyes of...

"Kasumi!" Mila said, instantly making it across the room, enveloping the girl in a hug."It's so good to see you again! It's been months. What are you doing here?"

The figure moved into the hug awkwardly at first, but with more intent and, dare she say it, more humanity than Lisa imagined it doing when she last laid eyes on the figure.

"Oh, Kasumi!" Lisa said, her voice strained but in control as she stood up from her seat." So good to see you again. I see you've come to talk about that private matter we discussed earlier, right?"

"Yes." The figure nodded her head as she let go of the hug, giving Mila a small smile as she did so. Even her voice was so much more...human than it was before." I would appreciate it if we could continue our conversation."

"Not a problem, sweetie." Lisa said stiffly, the professional tone of voice she used as a scientist wrapping around her like a favorite coat." Sorry, Mila, doctor-patient privilege and the like."

"Oh, come on." Mila said playfully, not fully grasping the situation unfolding before her." You're not even a doctor anymore."

"I got half a dozen pieces of paper framed on my wall that says otherwise." Lisa laughed, taking her eyes off the newcomer for a brief moment. "Besides, your match is about to start! You don't want to be late, do you?"

"Oh no!" Mila's cadence shifted, like a school girl realizing they were going to miss the bus to school." I have to go! I'll see you later, Kasumi! You should come out with us all later! I promise it will be fun!"

She left without another word, the sound of her retreating footsteps the only sound that Lisa could hear besides the beating of her own heart. Moments passed until Lisa worked up the courage to speak.

"You're not Kasumi," Lisa asked, less like a question and more like a statement of fact. "Are you?"

The figure shook her head, her features never changing even for a moment. Lisa sighed, accepting her fate with a small smile. But, of course, Donovan wouldn't dare let a loose thread like her go, not when he was so close to completing his life's work.

"You didn't deserve a second chance" The same voice spoke in Lisa's head, twisting the verbal knife deeper into her chest, "This is what you deserve."

Lisa sighed as she stood still, patiently waiting for what she knew was about to happen, but to her shock, it never came. Instead, the figure removed a small piece of metal from the pocket of her hoodie. She placed it on one of the empty tables in the room delicately, as if it was of great importance. It was small, smooth, and wholely unfamiliar to Lisa, like some strangely alien-looking disk.

A luminous and pale blue light bloomed from beneath the crystalline surface of the disk, illuminating the changing room as if the northern lights had appeared out of nowhere. The lights dance upward into the air, twinkling and shimmering like starlight against the pitch-black sky, becoming more and more numerous and radiant with each passing second. In a flicker of white light, the form of what could only have been a human woman appeared.

She was tall and graceful, beautiful in an almost otherworldly way, like a goddess.

"Lisa Hamilton, I presume?" the voice spoke, the being's intelligence clear for all to hear with each word she said. "I've heard a lot about you. We have much to discuss."


Well, well, well. If it isn't the consequences of my own actions come back to bite me. Looks like it's been almost half a year since I posted anything. That's gotta suck for those who got used to the bi-weekly post schedule I fell into in 2021.

I kind of fell into a huge depressive episode from December until about mid-April. I lost motivation for anything that wasn't sleeping and work and felt like I was sleepwalking through my day-to-day life. Thankfully I managed to work through a lot of personal shit that had been weighing me down for longer than I'd like to admit. Weirdly enough writing and finishing my story "The green man" was the thing that made me realize that I've been ignoring my mental health for far too long and needed to make a conceded effort to improve not only my coping mechanisms in terms of trauma but also I needed to improve myself as a person as a whole.

I know right? real heavy shit for a "My hero academia" fanfiction, but Izuku is my emotional support character now and I will use my entire 6'7 260-pound frame to bully anyone who shit talks him.

Leave a like, a favorite, and post a review if you like this chapter. If you're new here try another one of the mediocre stories I write. if you didn't like it, I'm sorry but I don't care about your opinion and I think we should see other people.