Long after Toga had disappeared from view, Izuku finally picked himself up from the floor. He made as if to go after her, then hesitated. The sound of a tunnel collapsing echoed through the space, and Izuku realized that they were never going to catch Toga now. He turned back to Mina, instead, who was already climbing to her feet.

Izuku froze at the look in her eyes. He had thought he had seen Mina at her angriest, but the rage on her face was beyond anything he had thought her capable of. She looked as if she was seconds from attacking.

"What the fuck, Izuku?" she said, half-yelling, half-hissing. "I…you…I had her, dammit! You just let her escape!"

Izuku met her eyes, fighting for control of his temper. This was bad, and he knew it-they were both off-balance, struggling with their own demons from seeing Toga again, and now Mina was lashing out. He could tell how much of a wreck she was at that moment; her eyes were wide and her whole body was trembling. Still, he had to wrestle his anger and frustration under control as he replied, "I stopped you from killing her, Mina."

"Exactly," Mina spat, stalking closer. "All our problems were about to be solved, and then you just…you fucked it all up! I don't even know what the hell you were thinking! You're the one who wanted to come down here and get revenge!"

Izuku took a deep breath. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said calmly, "I don't want my revenge to be murdering her."

Mina bared her teeth in a snarl. She met his eye, and she told him, "But I do. Fuck your weak-hearted "no killing" bullshit. I want her dead. I want to kill her for what she did to…to Fumi…"

Just like that, Mina's expression changed again. Like a mirror shattering, her whole face shook with another realization, and she looked as though she were about to start crying. Her breath came fast and sharp, thick with mucus. Even though Izuku didn't know a thing about who "Fumi" was, he knew that whoever they were, learning they were dead had just about broken Mina. The bleeding claw marks on his shoulder from whatever that thing had been that Toga turned into stung painfully as he tried to refocus.

"Listen, Mina," he began. "Let's get out of here. Maybe we can-"

Once again, Mina's face hardened as she seemed to turn her pain outwards, searching for a target. She spat, "I'm not listening to anything you say, Izuku. Not after what you just did."

Izuku's patience was rapidly wearing thin. He snapped, "I stopped you from committing murder."

"You stopped me from avenging someone I loved," Mina corrected, her voice full of hate. "I never should have brought you here. You're a typical hero-more obsessed with following rules than doing what's right."

"Stopping you was the right thing!" Izuku told her.

Mina's eyes seemed to glow with fury as she replied, "No. No, it wasn't. You're not from the Depths, you wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?" Izuku demanded.

"That if you aren't willing to get your hands dirty, you'll never survive down here," Mina hissed darkly. "Some people need to die. This isn't the surface, where you can get away with a nice, soft life where you never have to kill anyone-"

Izuku had had enough. Lightning danced across his skin as he yelled, "Enough, Mina!"

Mina fell quiet, shock on her face. Distantly, Izuku realized that he had stomped his foot as he spoke, and the entire tunnel network had shaken as if in an earthquake. Forcing himself to rein in One For All, he continued, "We can keep fighting about this all you want, but not here. We are going to get out of these tunnels, find Mezou, and then you can shout at me for all I fucking care. But let's get out of here before we get killed."

Mina seemed stunned into silence, perhaps because she'd never heard Izuku swear in anger before. Before she had recovered too much of her anger, she muttered, "Fine. But this isn't over, not by a long shot."

Izuku's shoulders slumped as Mina stalked past him, not even hesitating as she forced him aside. Not once during the walk out of the tunnels did she glance at him or even acknowledge his presence.

Izuku shook his head. It had been so long since he'd failed in a mission like this, he'd forgotten how bitter it was. So much work, so many compromises and risks taken…all for nothing.

They'd lost.

When Mina and Izuku reached the surface of the compound, they found themselves briefly stunned into silence.

Standing there, right near the entrance of the tunnel, was Mezou. He was barely breathing hard, though sweat was forming a lather all across his skin. But there were no opponents left for him to fight-dozens of injured and unconscious Neo-Stainists littered the ground all across the compound, and not a single one seemed to be capable of fighting anymore. Once again, Izuku found himself reminded of just how much of a force of nature Mezou was when he wanted to be.

Mezou nodded at them as they emerged from the tunnel, but his eyes quickly darkened as he noticed a certain absence.

"What happened to Toga?" he asked as Mina and Izuku joined him.

Izuku took a deep breath, then shook his head. "She got away," he told Mezou.

Mina glared at him, rage still plain on her face. "You mean you let her get away," she snapped. "I had her, Mezou. In my hands, everything. And then this fucker grabbed me off her."

Izuku countered, "You were trying to murder her, Mina. Toga tricked you into letting your guard down, and-"

"Tricked me?" Mina repeated incredulously, her voice faltering as she met Mezou's eyes. "She…Mezou, she had Fumi's blood. She…she t-transformed-"

Mezou's eyes filled with horror as Mina's voice failed her. Izuku had told them both about how Toga's powers worked-he knew what that meant.

"Fuck," Mezou swore, hanging his head. Neither Mina nor Izuku saw the relief that crept into Mezou's eyes as they turned back to each other.

"You ruined my one shot at revenge," Mina told Izuku. "All of that talk, all the things that made me trust you even a little bit…they were fake, weren't they? When it mattered, you couldn't let go of the dreamland you abovegrounders live in. You couldn't let go of your pretty little dream of nobody getting killed."

Izuku's eyes sparked. "I didn't stop you because I was naive, Mina," he snapped. "I stopped you because I'm a hero, and I can't just sit around and watch my allies murder people."

Mina held Izuku's gaze for a long, tense moment. Then, she said, "Yeah, I guess you are a hero. Arrogant, self-righteous, and so sure that your way is the best for all of us monsters living down here in the dark, damp caves you don't want. I guess I managed to forget what you really are."

Izuku just shook his head, hissing as he accidentally clenched his fists. They were burned pretty seriously thanks to Mina's acid; he would be fine with a few days of treatment aboveground, though. Mina's eyes landed on the damaged pink tissue of Izuku's fingers, and a spark of guilt seemed to flicker in her eyes for a moment before being swallowed back up by her anger.

Before they could start arguing again, Mezou interrupted, "Guys, now isn't the time for this."

Mina whirled to face him. "Mezou, Fumi is dead," she told him, her voice wavering. "How…how are you still so calm about this?"

Mezou met her eyes, and let out a deep breath. Izuku realized what he was going to say before he said it.

"I'm not," the enormous mutant admitted. "I'm a fucking mess right now, actually. But before I can let myself really process that, I'm doing my damndest to stay focused on the present, and getting us out of here. Not to mention…we have another problem."

Izuku frowned. "What problem?" he asked.

Mezou raised an arm towards a small building just beside them that had had its front door ripped off its hinges. Inside, Izuku saw a humanoid figure, slumped against the back wall. But that couldn't be a person…could it? The figure was enormous and bulky, but rounded in a way that was still sleek. And their skin was black and white, almost like…

"I found Kugo," Mezou said quietly.

Upon hearing his name, the man raised his enormous head. He bared jagged teeth in an unfocused grin.
"You don't gotta be so quiet," Kugo muttered in an immensely deep and gravelly voice. "I may look like shit, but my ears work just fine."

Izuku felt his surprise grow as his view of Kugo got better. The orca mutant was truly enormous, even bulkier than Mezou was, with deadly sharp teeth, terrifying red eyes, and enormous hands. But he looked like he'd been on the losing end of a brawl with a lawnmower. His colossal head was covered in slash wounds, many barely healed or still leaking blood. Bruises and other wounds crisscrossed old scars, many red and angry. One of his arms looked broken, and one leg was wrapped in a filthy-looking tourniquet. A sizable chunk of his dorsal fin seemed to be missing.

"What happened to him?" Izuku murmured softly.

Mezou just shrugged. "He's barely conscious," he answered. "This is about as lucid as he gets, but he barely seems to recognize me. I can't get any answers out of him."

Sure enough, Kugo's head lolled back a moment later, his breathing deep and erratic. Mina just scowled, seemingly still unable to let go of her grief and fury. "What are we gonna do with him?" she asked. "I get the feeling that if his own people left him like this, they don't care much if he lives or dies."

Mezou nodded. "I'm not leaving him behind," he said, staring directly at Izuku as if expecting him to argue. Perhaps he thought that Izuku would protest against saving the leader of a Neo-Stainist group.

However, Izuku just nodded. "You need help carrying him or not?" he asked. Looking a little surprised, Mezou shook his head. As if to demonstrate, he quickly stepped over to the enormous man, arms splitting again and again to form a stable platform to carry him. With seemingly little effort, he wrapped all those arms around Kugo, and soon had him well balanced across his shoulders.

"Let's get going," Mezou grunted. "Tsu will be waiting for us."

Kugo was already unconscious again, so Izuku and Mina just nodded, both of them seemingly deciding to postpone their argument until they were back at Mezou and Tsu's house. With heavy hearts and little else to show for their efforts, they finally left the compound.

It took them more than an hour to get back to Mezou and Tsu's house. As soon as they did, Tsu came out to greet them. She barely raised an eyebrow at the fact that they didn't have Toga, or how Mina was still an emotional wreck, or the enormous orca-man she was soon wrapping in bandages.

Once the unconscious Kugo was safely in a spare bed, the three mutants and Izuku gathered in the living room, each finding a seat on the simple, well-worn furniture.

For a long moment, there was a muted, somber silence. It was almost like a funeral, with an absent presence looming over them all.

At last, Tsu began. "So," she said. "What happened? You all came back with one very injured man, no Toga, and Mina keeps glaring daggers at Izuku. Explain."

Izuku sighed, prepared to explain himself as best he could, but Mina was quicker on the uptake. She snapped, "We had her, and then Izuku let her get away."

"I stopped you from killing her, Mina," Izuku retorted angrily. "How is this my fault?"

"Because you got cold feet," Mina told him spitefully. "What, you thought I was gonna smile and wave while you put Toga in handcuffs and carted her off to prison aboveground so you could get all your glory?"

"Glory?" Izuku spluttered. "Mina, none of this was about glory. I told you as much. This-this was personal. I wanted to catch her because she needed to be stopped."

"You're right," Mina agreed coldly. "I was going to stop her from ever hurting anyone ever again. That's what justice is, isn't it?"

"I…Mina, that wouldn't have been justice," Izuku told her. "That would have been murder, pure and simple. I wasn't going to sit there and watch!"

"You don't understand," Mina hissed, eyes blazing in the dim light. She leaned forwards in her chair, finger jabbing towards Izuku. "You'll never understand. Yeah, I wanted to kill her. I'm not going to apologize for that, hero. I don't feel bad about it. If she was here, my hands would be around her neck right now."

Izuku was on his feet by now, standing next to one wall; something hard was glinting in his own eyes, and anger like Mina had never seen from him spilled out with every tight movement. Tsu and Mezou were watching the back-and-forth, seemingly unwilling to get involved.

"What don't I understand?" Izuku demanded. "You would have been a murderer, Mina. I can't-I couldn't accept that."

"Why not?" Mina snarled. "Have you forgotten what I am, Izuku? I'm a monster. I'm a criminal. What's one more mark on my rap sheet?"

Suddenly, there was a sharp thud that shook the whole building. Mina flinched, years of subterranean instincts screaming at her. When she opened her eyes again, she went stiff; Izuku had slammed his fist into the stone wall, a spiderweb of cracks spiraling out from his lightning-wreathed fingers.

Izuku stared her down; Mina wondered what he was thinking. For the first time, she couldn't read the look in his eye.

"Are you a murderer?" he asked, cold and steady. "Have you killed before, Mina?"

Mina opened her mouth, then hesitated. For a single second, her rage faltered. "N-no," she admitted at last, hating herself for how small her voice sounded in that moment. "I've…wanted to, a few times. Really, really hurt people, in self-defense. But never…never killed."

Izuku's face didn't change. He rounded on Mezou, who had been watching carefully, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glinting with an inscrutable emotion.

"What about you?" Izuku demanded. His voice would allow no argument.

Mezou's stare was just as disinterested and ironclad as it always was; he met Izuku's eye with icy calm, and not even Tsu's presence beside him could warm his features at all. Underneath it, though, was something else, something dark. Izuku could see memories raging through the man, distant shadows lingering at the edges of his mind.

"Be careful, asking questions like that," Mezou warned, voice dipping low, nearly to a growl. "You might not want to know the answer."

The non-answer was as good as a confirmation. For a second, Izuku stood utterly motionless, holding Mezou's gaze with what might have been respect, or anger, or steely resolve. At last, he nodded in acknowledgement.

Then, Izuku turned back to Mina. "I have," he said simply, so quiet she had to listen closely to make sure she hadn't misheard. "I've killed someone before."

Mina's eyes went wide. "You…you're…" she began disbelievingly. She couldn't finish the question, couldn't reconcile the idea of the spotless, flawless hero Atlas with a murderer…no, that wasn't it. She could believe that a hero was a killer. But Izuku? The sweet, awkward, slightly hapless man she'd almost started to trust? The thought of him in the grip of the bloodlust that had come over her was…Mina couldn't imagine it.

Only, with that light in his eye, the odd glint that sparkled in the near darkness…she could.

Mezou, too, seemed shocked; he leaned forwards, studying Izuku with some strange new look in his eye. Izuku turned, ever so slightly, and returned the look. At last, Mezou nodded, one killer to another. He, it seemed, needed no words.

Izuku kept talking, spilling more words out into the choking silence. Now that he'd admitted the truth, he couldn't stop. It had been years since he had spoken of this-he rarely talked about it, even with Ejiro. And yet, here he was, spilling his secrets to Mina as she watched with those glittering golden eyes. "That's why I stopped you, Mina," he explained, speaking quickly, as though he was scared to stop. "I know what it's like to become a killer. It…it takes a piece of you, one you can't get back. It's a choice you never come back from."

Finally collecting herself, Mina asked softly, "Who was it? Who did you kill?"

Izuku hesitated for just a second, exhaling deeply. Then, he smiled. It was a sharp, bitter thing, manic in its light, hollow to the core. The laugh he let out was every bit as angry as the ones Mina had held close to her chest for years upon years, and for the first time, she truly thought she understood Izuku Midoriya, the man who had become Atlas.

Izuku met her eye, and asked, "Tell me, Mina. What do you know about Tomura Shigaraki?"

Despite the tempest raging in her gut, Mina frowned. "Bits and pieces," she admitted. "He gave you abovegrounders a good scare a few years back, didn't he?"

Izuku found himself surprised by Mina's lack of knowledge. But then, how was she supposed to have known about the man who still haunted Izuku's nightmares? Shigaraki had never visited the Depths, though his League had tried (and mostly failed) to recruit the mutants there to his cause.

"He was a monster," Izuku said quietly, voice heavy as he dragged up the darkest memories of his life. "A real monster, Mina. Any cause he claimed to have, any belief he professed-it was secondary to that. He was a sadistic, self-absorbed man-child with too much power and enough hate to poison a hundred men rotting his soul."

Izuku's voice wavered, but refused to break. It felt like the shadows were closing in around him, reconstructing the laughing face of Shigaraki from darkness and smoke. He continued, "He destroyed a city, an entire city, in less than thirty seconds. Wiped it off the map, killed tens of thousands of people. He killed heroes, too, some of the greatest men and women in Japan. And he enjoyed every second of it. You could tell. I could tell, because I came face-to-face with him as he did it."

Mina reeled. Somehow, she couldn't summon the presence of mind to do anything else. She just sat quietly, fists clenched as Izuku's words painted a picture of true, naked evil.

Mezou, though, seemed slightly more resistant to the way Izuku's words stole the light from the air. "But you killed him," he rumbled, his voice soft and quiet.

Izuku turned towards Mezou, still standing, still cast in flickering shadow from the power dancing across his skin. "I did," he agreed flatly. "Not that day, even though I tried to. No, I didn't kill him because anger got the better of me, or because I lost control. I planned his death. Planned it for a long, long time, spent weeks, months, the entirety of a war, preparing to do it. It was as cold-blooded a murder as it could be. And when it all came together, when he and I fought for the fate of this whole damn country, do you know what I did?"

There was dead silence in the room as Izuku drew in a deep breath, steeling himself. The flood of the words erupting out of him had ebbed away; now, he was forcing himself to tell these people who were little more than strangers the darkest secret he held, because it was right. Because he wanted them to know. Or maybe because he just didn't know what else to do.

"I won," he said simply. "I beat the monster, like I was the hero from a fairy tale. Only…the fairy tales don't talk about what happens when you hit someone so hard they turn into a bloody smear on the pavement. I would say I was trying to hold back, I'd tell you that I didn't mean to hit Shigaraki that hard, but…but I'd be lying."

Izuku felt like something was draining out of him. He sat down in his chair again, cupping his face in one hand. He realized his hand was trembling, and forced it to still. And still, nobody spoke.

"I regretted it, after," he added. "I still regret it, even now. And I know it isn't…it's not like it was illegal, even, you know? I was praised for it, worshiped, even. I was the man who saved everyone, after all. And all I needed to do was kill someone who…he was already down. Already beaten. I broke him, completely and utterly, and then I killed him."

Again, a cold, bitter chuckle bubbled up from Izuku's lips. "Every time I tried to talk to someone about this, every time I wanted to admit how guilty I felt about it, they looked at me and said, "It was Shigaraki," like that somehow makes it okay. Like I didn't look a beaten, broken man in the eye, see how scared he was, and then end his life," Izuku told them. "I've heard or thought of every justification I can think of, all of them that apply to the situation I was in. It was him or me, it was revenge for the tens of thousands of people he slaughtered, he was insane and killing him was like putting down a rabid animal, all of them. Some of them make a lot of sense, even. And you know what? Not a single one of them helps. It doesn't change what I did, or how I feel about it. Maybe it makes me stupid and softhearted, but I just…I can't manage to shake the guilt, even though by every metric, I was justified in what I did."

At last, Izuku turned to meet Mina's eyes. She was wearing a strange expression, one that seemed caught between half a dozen different emotions. It was like she wasn't sure what to think of him. Izuku couldn't blame her.

"I'm not naive," he told her quietly. "And I'm not some flawless "golden boy," either. I didn't stop you because of anything like that. I've done bad things, and the fact that I did them to bad people doesn't ease my conscience much. I stopped you because, well…like I told you, killing somebody is a choice that you carry forever. I…I want as few people to have to make that choice as possible, and I'll stop it whenever I can, because I know what it does to people. I will always choose life, Mina-it doesn't matter whose. This world has enough killers in it already. I should know-I'm one of them."

Finally, Izuku fell silent, feeling utterly empty, as though he had no more words left in him. But still, Mina stayed quiet. She met his gaze, golden eyes against green, and he saw the conflict in her.

Mina's eyes flitted back and forth, her expression torn between anger and guilt, horror and understanding. Her head was a mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings; she couldn't decide how she was reacting. Everything was pounding in her head, overwhelming her until she couldn't take it anymore. At last, on a frantic, desperate impulse that overrode her brain so quickly she couldn't possibly have fought it, she staggered onto unsteady feet.

"I…I need to think," she stammered, bolting from the room so quickly Izuku didn't have time to react. By the time he'd hopped up himself, the heavy slam of the front door told him Mina had already left.

"Don't bother chasing after her," Mezou grunted, his voice resigned. "Even if you could catch her, she wouldn't stop. Not for you, at least. Let her go."

Dimly, Izuku realized that lightning was flickering from his body. He suppressed it with a thought, then slowly eased back into his armchair. He let out a deep, shaky breath as he slumped against the backrest.

"Why did she run?" he asked, as if to himself.

Mezou looked like he wanted to answer, but it was Tsu who spoke first. "This is how she processes," she explained. "It's how she grieves, how she calms down…how she avoids the things she doesn't want to think about."

Mezou made a strange, frustrated sound, and Tsu half-turned to reply, "You know I didn't mean it like that, babe."

"You'd have been right to," Mezou grumbled, looking up and meeting Izuku's eyes. "What she's saying is that Mina runs from her problems. Always has, probably always will. She ran from Fumikage's…death, and now she's running all over again."

Izuku frowned. "I don't know who Fumikage is," he admitted. "I heard that name from Mina, and Toga mentioning it seemed to break her. Why?"

Mezou hesitated, closing his eyes and letting out a long, deep breath. Tsu leaned over and gripped Mezou's thigh, as if lending her strength to her husband. It took several long seconds until Mezou seemed to summon the strength he needed from some deep reserve. He turned to look at Tsu, wearing an expression Izuku couldn't read.

Tsu seemingly could read it, though, because a moment later, she murmured, "He deserves to know, Mezou."

"I…don't know if I can tell the story," Mezou said quietly. It was the softest Izuku had ever heard him speak, the most vulnerable he'd ever sounded.

Tsu's voice never changed. It was like a light in the dark as she told him, "There's nobody else to do it."

Mezou took a deep breath, sitting upright once again. "There never is," he said, in a voice as determined as it was resigned.

The look in Mezou's eye was solid and dark like iron when he met Izuku's gaze. "Fumi was…well, he was the leader of the…well, it was a gang of orphaned or abandoned mutant children, really," Mezou began. "Me, Mina, Tsu. He had a knack for finding strays, and the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. I always thought he was too good of a man to be stuck down here, but…well, nothing about this place is fair. I first met him when I was…seven or eight, I think? He saved me from a bunch of thugs who were picking on me for fun. From then on, I…well, I'm grown up enough to admit I probably hero-worshiped him a little, at least until we were a bit older. We met Mina a few years later, when we were twelve or so."

"That's where she got her scar," Tsu added quietly, making Izuku's eyes flick to her. "The one on her cheek."

Mezou nodded. "She got into a fight, and Fumi and I happened to be nearby," he said. "We intervened, and after that, we…more or less adopted her. It was…it was like having an actual family. The four of us against the world. At least, for a while."

Izuku stayed quiet, though his thoughts were a whirlwind. The thought of the immense, intimidating Mezou having to be saved was strange. Izuku forced himself to stay focused, even as Mezou's voice briefly failed him, and Tsu took up the slack.

"I didn't actually live with the others, so I wasn't as close with Fumi as Mezou and Mina were," she explained. "None of them had parents, or really any family at all. My parents did their best to help, but, well…they struggled enough with three kids. I couldn't make them take in three more. I…regretted that I didn't do more, eventually."

Having recovered himself, Mezou turned to his wife and said, "You did all you could. We all did. It took me a long time to realize that, but…it's true. We were a bunch of kids in a shitty situation."

Once more, Mezou looked back at Izuku. "Fumi…disappeared when we were eighteen," he explained, his voice quiet. "We woke up one day, and he was just…gone. His cot wasn't slept in, none of his stuff was missing. It was like he vanished into thin air. We spent weeks searching for him, but we never found anything. Until today, when Mina learned that he'd been murdered by a serial killer."

Izuku didn't know what to say. The horrible, still silence that settled over the room felt like it was pressing down on his chest, suffocating him.

Mezou shifted forwards, eyes gleaming with suppressed pain. "I want you to understand this from Mina's perspective," he said softly. "Fumi was the one who saved her life, who taught her to use her quirk, who gave her an actual family. Her life before we met her was…well, I don't actually know what it was like, because she refuses to talk about it, even with us. Some things are just buried too deep, I think."

Izuku nodded slowly, as he put the pieces together for himself. "And she just came face-to-face with his murderer," he realized. "God."

Mezou nodded. "I can't blame her for wanting to kill Toga," he said. "Hell, I think I would have had a similar reaction, had she done what she did in front of me. The thought of Fumi dying alone with that fucking bitch grinning down at him…"

Mezou took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. Tsu put a hand on his arm, and he flashed her a grateful look before regaining control.

Tsu met Izuku's eyes. "Thank you, for stopping Mina," she told him gently. "I think, once she calms down, she'll be grateful for you intervening, though she probably won't show it, ribbit. She's got a good heart-killing Toga would have hurt her a lot more than she would ever admit."

Mezou nodded in agreement. "As pissed as she is right now, I'm glad she didn't kill Toga," he admitted, echoing his wife. "Mina would be angry at me if she knew, but I've always tried to protect her from…that part of things. She hates the idea of being sheltered or coddled, but I just…I think of her as a sister. I don't want her to lose any more than she already has. Not family, not hope, not the last little bit of light she has in her eyes. So…thank you, Atlas."

Though the last few words seemed a little insincere, like Mezou had had to force them out, Izuku simply nodded. He decided that that would be enough, and Mezou seemed to agree. For a moment, there was peace in the small, cozy living room.

Then, Izuku coughed awkwardly, and asked, "So, uh, when will Mina come back, do you think?"

Tsu smiled a little. "Knowing her, it could be anywhere from a few minutes to, uh…" she began, only for her grin to fade into a pained grimace. "Six years?"

Izuku winced, making the connection to what he knew of Mezou and Mina's past. "I…guess we'll just have to wait, then," he said quietly. Tsu nodded.

Mezou, though, seemed to stir as the silence threatened to stretch on for an uncomfortable amount of time. "Actually, Atlas, there is something else we need to talk about," he said, voice growing grimmer as he leaned forwards in his chair.

Judging by Tsu's surprised expression, Izuku guessed that she hadn't been aware of whatever seemed to be eating at Mezou. "Fire away," he told the larger man.

Mezou took a deep breath, then said, "Something's been bugging me about that Neo-Stainist compound."

Izuku frowned. "What is it?" he asked

"They were too strong," Mezou replied, voice steady enough to almost dispel the concerned wrinkle in his forehead. "Or their elites were, at least. That snake-woman, the gargoyle you punted into next week-"

"I'm sorry, the what he what?" Tsu interrupted, looking confused. Izuku realized that she still hadn't gotten a full rundown of what had happened at the compound.

"I'll explain later," Mezou said, waving one hand to dismiss the question. "My point is, those were some of the strongest mutants I've ever seen. They went toe-to-toe with me, and with the Number One Hero. They lost, but they got a few good hits in, and almost nobody can do that."

Izuku nodded cautiously. He wondered if Mezou might be exaggerating his own strength, but Tsu didn't say a word, and she struck him as the kind of person who would have corrected Mezou. Besides, he'd seen Mezou fight himself. The list of heroes who could beat him was probably very, very short, to say nothing of fellow mutants.

"Okay," he said. "Where are you going with this?"

Mezou folded his hands across his chest as he explained, "Normally, fighters of their caliber would be controlling personal fiefdoms in the lower tunnels, just by virtue of their sheer strength. Up here, the gangs rule, but down that low, where the worst of the worst gather, whichever one of them is biggest, baddest, and most willing to kill for power holds sway. And yet…these mutants, who fit those categories perfectly, weren't. More than that, they were loyal to the group and to each other. Toga proved that rats always flee a sinking ship-but they stayed. They fought. People like them don't do that if there isn't anything in it for them."

"Couldn't one of them have fought against Kugo?" Izuku asked. "Maybe they tried to take over the compound."

Mezou shook his head. "They would have just killed him, not treated his injuries," he countered. "Assuming that they could beat Kugo in the first place. I've only ever seen the man really fight once, and it was fucking terrifying. And the wounds he has don't match either of those mutants, either. No, whoever did that to him wasn't at the compound today."

Izuku's frown grew deeper as he asked, "So you think something convinced those mutants to join up with that group of Neo-Stainists?"

Mezou shook his head. "Not something," he replied. "Someone."

While Izuku began to chew on that, Tsu made a face, whacking her husband on the arm. "Mezou, stop being cryptic and tell us what's going on," she commanded.

Huffing indignantly, Mezou pinched the bridge of his nose with one massive hand. "Okay," he sighed. "Listen. Down here, strength is king. If you're strong enough, you can do whatever you want. Make your own kingdom, become feared across the Depths, even strike out at the Underground itself. And those mutants at the compound…they were the kind that are on top, that have always been on top. They had no reason to be part of an organization that would have only restricted them, stymied their ability to dominate. The only way that they would be sitting around guarding a compound like that is if they'd been brought into line by someone even stronger. They wouldn't follow orders or work together otherwise."

"But why would this hypothetical mutant even do that?" Izuku pointed out. "If they were so much stronger, wouldn't they just overthrow the others and take over their territory?"

"Normally, yeah. But I get the feeling that whoever's doing this has bigger plans," Mezou replied.

"Then what's the motive here?" Izuku asked, slipping even more fully into hero mode.

Mezou frowned, hesitating as he searched for a response. It seemed as if he hadn't gotten that far yet. Suddenly, there was the sound of a door creaking open, followed by heavy, shuffling footfalls that seemed to shake the whole world around Izuku.

"Pretty sure I can answer that," said a deep, inhuman voice. All three of them whirled, shocked to find Kugo standing there, arm still in a sling, and still unsteady on his feet.

"What the hell are you doing up?" Tsu demanded. "You shouldn't be walking-"

"Save it, Miss. Scarier people than you have tried and failed to keep me from doing stupid things," Kugo grunted, limping over to an empty chair and easing himself down into it. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Kugo radiated sheer menace, almost as powerfully as Mezou did. Monstrous red eyes surveyed the room, and it took serious strength for Izuku to meet that harsh gaze when Kugo narrowed his eyes upon seeing him.

"You look like a damn abovegrounder," he said darkly, making Izuku very aware of just how massive and deadly-looking the orca mutant was. But he hadn't come all this way, fought his way through a compound of Neo-Stainists, and revealed some of his deepest, darkest secrets to strangers to back down now.

"So what if I am?" he retorted, iron in his voice. Raising one eyebrow as Kugo's eyes narrowed once more, Izuku did his damndest to show no weakness, no hesitation at all.

It worked. Kugo snorted loudly, then turned to Mezou. "You willingly let this bastard into your house?" he asked, incredulous.

Mezou huffed loudly. "Willingly" is a strong word," he replied. "It was more like "under extreme duress."

Kugo just shook his head. "Well, far be it from me to criticize the people who just saved my life," he decided. "Still, I couldn't help overhearing what you were talkin' about. And I figure I've got the best viewpoint on what's happening."

Mezou nodded. "What happened to you, anyway?" he asked. "Was there a leadership challenge in the Neo-Stainists or something?"

Kugo grimaced, as though the very question hurt almost as much as his wounds. "There ain't Neo-Stainists anymore," he said darkly. "Not in that compound, at least. They all abandoned the cause."

Mezou and Izuku exchanged worried looks, recalling what Mezou had said while they were scouting the compound earlier that day.

"Abandoned it for what?" Mezou asked.

"For whatever the hell the man who came to my compound, beat the shit out of me, and took it over was telling them," Kugo replied bluntly. "I was a little busy bleeding out at the time, but whatever it was, it had them all cheering like nothing I've ever seen."

"Wait, who did you lose to?" Mezou demanded.

Kugo winced as he shifted his weight, accidentally aggravating another one of his wounds. "I dunno," he admitted. "I'd never seen him or heard about him before, and anyone that good should have some sort of reputation. But no. He looked like…like an insect made of goddamn swords or something. Fast as hell, and more brutal than anyone else I've ever fought. Fucker took me apart like he was slicing bread. The only reason I survived was because he let a few people tend to my wounds once he'd made clear that I wasn't fit to lick his boot. Not sure why he didn't kill me on the spot, if I'm being honest."

Mezou and Izuku exchanged concerned looks. Neither of them knew what to think, or how to respond. Eventually, Izuku asked, "Are you sure you didn't hear anything about what he said? Where he came from, what his name was, anything like that?"

Kugo looked less than enthused about getting questioned by an abovegrounder, but he eventually replied, "I…he did say something, right before he challenged me to a fight. He said he was part of…he called it the "Outcast Army," I think. Never heard of it before, so I laughed in his face. You can tell how that went. My own people turned their backs on me."

He gestured at his injuries, snorting in disgust at his own sorry state.

Mezou met Izuku's eyes, his gaze hard and flinty. "I don't like this," he said. "Mutants working together instead of becoming petty tyrants, mass defections to some mysterious new faction that's come out of nowhere…something's going on that we're not seeing here."

Izuku nodded. "But what is it that these people want, do you think?" he wondered.

Kugo chuckled darkly, drawing their attention all over again. "Ain't it obvious?" he said, voice grim and pained, eyes glittering with rage and fear all mixed up together. "Whoever the hell they are…they're building an army."

Far away, in a place so deep and dark that not even the residents of the Depths considered it fit for human life, a young woman slipped through a narrow crevice, finally sighing as she allowed her disguise to drop in a wave of white goo.

Himiko Toga clenched a fist against her chest, leaning back against the wall of the tunnel and taking deep, long breaths, willing her heart to stop beating so fast.

"The years haven't made you any less handsome, Izuku," she thought, a wild grin flitting across her face. "A shame I didn't have more time to play with you."

Himiko forced herself to push away the fantasies running through her mind, though she vowed to return to them later. For now, she had other things to attend to. She needed to return to base along with the rest of the fighters retreating from the compound they'd taken from those Neo-Stainists. It wouldn't do to be accused of cowardice.

Himiko passed deeper into the tunnels, ignoring the gnawing unease in her gut as she passed dozens upon dozens of pitch-black side tunnels that had never been explored. The Depths never really ended, they just…petered out, grew so dark and tangled the further down they went that it was really impossible to find your way back out again. Himiko had heard that the reason the tunnels became so maddening and winding at these depths was because they had been carved out in the final, desperate seconds of Craton and Faultline's lives, as they took their last bloody breaths and finally died. She hoped that that was true; their blood must have made them beautiful in those last few moments.

Himiko wasn't lost, though. These tunnels may have been more confusing and darker than any others in the depths, but to someone who was used to slinking around on the very fringes of the world, they weren't scary at all. Besides, she just had to follow the series of marks painted in glowing luminescent paint. They could only be interpreted by a select few people; only the Outcasts knew what they meant, and how to follow them. It was the ultimate defense; even if an attacker somehow managed to figure out where they had made their headquarters, they would lose themselves in the tunnels long before posing any serious threat to their citadel.

It took Himiko nearly half an hour to navigate the route back to base. She spent the time replaying the events of that fight in the compound in her head, over and over again. As soon as the gate had fallen and a storm of teal lightning had burst through, she had known who it was, and why he had come. Somehow, Izuku had managed to track her down. Why else would he come so far, risked so much?

"He really does care," Himiko thought, a distant, dreamy look in her eyes.

She knew better than to fight Izuku head-on; so many had tried, and they had all failed. Muscular, Compress, Dabi, even poor Shigaraki…they were gone now, locked away forever in that hellish prison they called Tartarus. Or dead. Honestly, Himiko thought that Shigaraki had gotten the better end of that deal. She'd rather have a quick death than rot in a cell, unable to move, unable to do anything but sit there and slowly waste away.

Still, even Himiko hadn't expected the strange mutant girl, with the pink skin and those fascinating eyes. Oh, that one was interesting. Himiko hadn't met many people who could hate like that, who could look at you and sear your soul with their desire to see you die. And the way she and Izuku had interacted, the way he'd been so horrified to see what she truly was.

Himiko's smirk slowly died, her eyes growing deadly. "I thought you'd learned, Izuku," she muttered darkly. "You aren't allowed to love anyone but me."

With that deadly promise on her lips, Himiko finally reached her destination. Slipping from a narrow exit that could have been mistaken for nothing more than a crack in the rock, she emerged into a truly enormous cavern.

With a long, high ceiling and curving, dark walls, it resembled nothing so much as an enormous airplane hangar, carved from solid rock far, far below the surface. There were electric lights hanging from the highest points in the ceiling, casting great pools of light on the smooth, flat floor, which was packed with evidence of civilization. Rows of tents and buildings stretched on and on as far as Himiko could see, and a handful of springs seemed to burst from the walls at various points, turning into sparkling belowground waterfalls, some of them hundreds of feet high, all of them tumbling into clear pools that supplied the whole base with water. Calling it a "base" was honestly inaccurate-this was a city, the equal of any high cavern in the Depths, filled with people bustling through streets and living in small but sturdy homes, all of it so well-hidden it was a secret even in the Depths.

Speaking of the people, they were, perhaps, some of the strangest Himiko had ever seen. Where mutants made up less than half the population even in the Depths, she knew from experience that the city below her was more than eighty percent mutants. This was the last refuge of those who were too bizarre, too different, to fit even among the lawlessness of the Depths. These were the outcasts of the outcasts, those with nowhere else left to run to. And this city didn't just accept them-it welcomed them. Below her, Himiko could see a riot of color and human variety like nowhere else on Earth. Every sort of mutant was represented, animal quirks and technological ones, severe mutations and minor ones, even those so mutated they no longer even looked human at all.

Himiko couldn't help the grin that formed on her face. The heroes thought that the Depths were pacified, that they had sealed all the mutants away to rot in their own prison, where they couldn't trouble the surface ever again. How wrong they were. They had been gathering here, in enormous numbers, awaiting the day that they would have their revenge. It was poetic, really. And all of this, every home and fighter and the Outcasts themselves, all of it was thanks to one person, the one person in the world who might have a chance against Atlas himself. The only person, if Himiko was honest with herself, that really, truly scared her anymore.

"Toga!" called a sudden voice from Himiko's left.

Surprised, Himiko turned, spotting a small group of dark-clad mutants making their way up the small, narrow path from the ledge she had stepped out onto down to the floor of the cavern. Her lips tightened when she saw who it was.

She waited until the group had nearly reached her to respond. "Hello, Kamakiri," she said happily, a note of mockery in her voice.

Togaru Kamakiri narrowed his eyes as he stepped up in front of her, distant light glinting from the hooked blades on his cheeks. "Toga," he said flatly, dislike palpable in his expression. "Where have you been?"

"Where have you been?" Himiko shot back, her voice playful. "I haven't seen you in weeks!"

Kamakiri rolled his eyes. "I was dealing with a few warlords in the outer tunnels who were getting uppity," he replied.

Himiko clapped her hands together approvingly. "Nice!" she told him. "Did you make them bleed? Did you carve them up like you did to that big stupid whale in charge of the Neo-Stainists?"

Kamakiri's eye twitched in obvious frustration. "Answer the damn question, you fucking psycho," he snapped.

Himiko sighed, deciding that further antagonizing one of the highest-ranking members of the Outcasts was a bad idea. "Making my way back here, obviously. The outpost in the upper caverns was attacked, if you didn't know," she answered, her expression still falsely pleasant. There was little love lost between her and Kamakiri. The man was brutal and one of the most powerful close-combat fighters Himiko had ever met, but he was also just so…dull. Ironic, considering his quirk, but he was too fanatically loyal to his leader, and too much of a purist, to ever consider doing anything fun. He hated Himiko, too-he'd protested from the start against letting her join, saying that he wanted nothing to do with a serial killer who tortured people for fun. That hurt Himiko's feelings. Just because it was true didn't mean he needed to be so mean about it!

Kamakiri glared at her as he replied, "Oh, I'm aware. The first medic teams came in a quarter of an hour ago, bringing as many of the injured and refugees here as they could. I was surprised you weren't among them."

Himiko smiled. "Why would I be?" she countered. "I wasn't hurt, as you can see."

Kamakiri nodded thoughtfully. "I see that," he said in his soft, metallic-sounding rasp of a voice. "I wonder why that is, and how you're just about the only combatant who came out of that place unhurt."

Himiko cursed mentally. He'd practically accused her of cowardice, in front of other Outcasts, to boot; she now recognized the small group of tough-looking men and women around Kamakiri as his personal squad, some of the deadliest fighters the Outcasts had.

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm surprised," Himiko replied, trying to divert the conversation in a different direction. "After all, Atlas was there."

The reaction was instant. Several of Kamakiri's squad went pale, or exchanged worried looks. One of them flexed meter-long claws while looking around nervously, as though they were expecting the Number One Hero himself to appear out of thin air.

Kamakiri, though, showed little response beyond a brief widening of his eyes. "Really?" he said, sounding surprised. "Why would he come to the Depths?"

Himiko shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine," she lied.

After a moment, Kamakiri seemed to make a decision. "You're coming with me," he told Himiko. "We're going to go talk to the boss."

Himiko fought to keep her body from going tense. "Why?" she asked. "He doesn't need to talk to little old me, surely."

Kamakiri's eyes hardened. "So far, you're the only survivor of the outpost who's in any state to give a report on what happened to the place," he told her. "Now, stop playing cute, and come with us."

Kamakiri turned to head back down the path, clearly expecting Himiko to follow. Himiko crossed her arms, dropping the fake smile. "I don't take orders from you," she retorted. "And I don't give reports, either."

Kamakiri froze, then turned back towards Himiko with an ominous look in his eyes. All around him, his squad dropped the relatively loose, non-threatening formation they'd been in, moving to surround Himiko with practiced ease.

"Allow me to rephrase," Kamakiri said, his voice deadly serious. "You are going to come with me, one way or the other. You can either do it with all of your limbs securely attached, or you can do it after I teach you some respect."

Himiko remained defiant. "You need to work on your threats, Kamakiri," she told him. "If the boss wants to talk to me, he can come do it himself, instead of hiding behind his lackeys."

A dark murmur swept through Kamakiri's squad, and Kamakiri looked as though he wanted nothing more than to tear into Himiko on the spot. "Watch your mouth," he hissed warningly. "If you insult him again, I'll-"

"I'll insult him as much as I want to," Himiko said, grinning. "Here, watch. He's a yellow-bellied, lazy, good-for-nothing bastard with a tiny dick-"

Despite obviously being spitting mad, Kamakiri took a deep breath, then snapped, "Shut the fuck up, Toga. We don't have time for this shit. You are going to come with us, tell the boss what happened at that fucking outpost, and then you can go throw yourself into a lava pit for all I care."

Himiko rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, fine, jeez," she muttered, resigning herself to a very unpleasant hour or so. "No need to be so cranky over it."

Again, Kamakiri's eye twitched, but he didn't reply. Instead, he turned away and began to march down the path again, followed by Himiko and the rest of his squad, who never took their eyes off her.

It took a few minutes to cross the cavern, and as they did so, they passed by an area near a much larger entrance than the one Himiko had come through that had been cleared for use as a sort of field hospital. Dozens of mutants Himiko recognized from the outpost lay there, bandaged and groaning from various sorts of broken limbs, concussions, and other injuries while a handful of worried-looking civilians worked on them. A few were more badly wounded; Himiko spotted an enormous woman with the body of a snake with her head and torso completely covered in bandages, as well as a large man who resembled a gargoyle who had so many injuries littering his body he resembled a terrifying, misshapen mummy from all the casts.

As they passed by the wounded, Kamakiri saw Himiko staring at them, and muttered, "And the heroes think we're savages."

For once, Himiko didn't disagree with him. She just nodded quietly as they made their way deeper into the city, towards a plain, unadorned hole in the cavern wall.

Unadorned and simple it may have been, but Himiko couldn't help but shiver a little as they passed into the cave beyond, through an entrance big enough to swallow twenty people walking abreast. It was like walking down the gullet of some colossal beast, even though the cave was still quite well-lit and decorated like a comfortable, albeit spartan, living space.

Kamakiri didn't stop in this part of the cave, though. He continued deeper, until he finally reached a massive steel door. He knocked, the sound echoing through the cramped space, until a gravelly voice, far too deep to be human, replied, "Enter."

Himiko chanced a look behind her, feeling something tighten in her gut as she realized that there were quite a few guards following them in, on top of Kamakiri's squad. But then the door opened, and they all passed through, and she had bigger problems to worry about.

The room on the other side of that enormous door was a size to match; it was so big, so poorly lit, that Himiko couldn't see even half of it. Shadows covered the room, but that wasn't the problem. No, the problem was that there was something moving in the darkness, something huge. Soft breaths were constantly audible, sounding like some titanic monster was sleeping soundly in the room. Rustling noises signaled that there was movement, but Himiko couldn't see anything-if whatever was making those noises even had a real, physical form, she couldn't see it. There were flashes, when something passed closer to the light-a massive head in profile, a gargantuan arm lazily changing position-but for the most part, all she had to go off of was the soft, gentle breathing that rumbled and shook the whole room like an earthquake

Kamakiri stepped forwards, and Himiko had no choice but to follow him. "I got her, boss," Kamakiri said, gesturing at Himiko.

"Well done, Kamakiri," the boss said approvingly, in a voice that was so deep, Himiko could feel it in her chest. Kamakiri gave little outward sign of acknowledging the boss's compliment, but the way he stalked back towards the only door to the room suggested satisfaction.

Himiko felt like an ant under a microscope as she felt the boss's eyes finally fall on her, and her alone.

"Now, Toga, was there something you wanted to tell us about the attack on our outpost?" the boss asked her. Their voice was calm, but in a way that could very easily shift into something much worse.

Himiko took a deep breath, then said, "I, uh, saw who attacked us," she said. "It was Atlas."

The room went quiet, save for the boss's deep breathing, and the worried, surprised murmurs of the guards who had posted themselves around the perimeter of the room.

At last, the boss spoke again. "You know better than to lie to me, so I believe you," they told her. "But still, I do find that hard to comprehend. Atlas took out the entire outpost, some of our strongest fighters, all by himself?"

"You've never seen him fight," Himiko thought spitefully. "You didn't see what he did to Shigaraki."

But that wasn't the truth, and Himiko was far too nervous to lie convincingly just then. Instead, she admitted, "Um, no. There were two others with him."

The boss made an odd humming sound that felt like a deep rumble inside Himiko's chest. "Other heroes?" they asked. "Perhaps Red Riot or Bombshell?"

Himiko shook her head. "No," she replied. "Two mutants were helping him."

That sent a ripple of shocked murmurs around the room once again. The idea of mutants helping a hero attack another group in the Depths was…unthinkable. In all the deadly, bitter wars and rivalries that wracked the Depths every day, nobody had ever done that. Nobody had ever dared. Hell, in the few times that the abovegrounders had tried to "establish law and order" in the Depths by sending in a flood of heroes to invade the place, gang wars had ended overnight, the bitterest of rivals among the warlords had shaken hands, and every faction in the Depths had joined forces to send the heroes running back to the surface with their tails between their legs. Nobody willingly allowed heroes into the Depths.

"Who were these mutants?" the boss demanded at last. "Describe them, if you don't know their names."

Himiko hesitated, gathering her thoughts. She said, "I didn't get a good look at one of them. He was big and had a lot of arms, that's about all I know. The other one…pink skin and hair, golden eyes with black sclera, weird yellow horns on her head. She had a scar under one eye, too. I think Atlas called her…Mina?"

The room was utterly, deadly silent. Not a man moved, even as the boss's breathing suddenly stopped. Some sort of presence washed over everyone in the room, rooting them in place in terror at the sudden danger they could sense emanating from the darkness.

"Toga," the boss began, their voice clipped, rumbling, and deadly serious, "Tell me how certain you are of that mutant's identity. Now."

Himiko frowned. Did the boss think she was lying? "I'm very certain!" she said. "Seeing as the pink bitch had her hands around my neck, trying to kill me!"

Still, the room remained silent, processing this information. The boss was the quickest on the uptake, as usual. "And why would she be trying to do that?" they demanded, their voice getting lower, close to turning into a growl.

Himiko hesitated, wetting her suddenly dry lips. Some bubble of amusement at the whole situation rose up inside her chest, and she found herself smiling wryly as she replied, "She wanted revenge for the death of Fumikage Tokoyami, of course."

All around the room, mutants went wide-eyed with shock. Even Kamakiri twitched, as if unsettled by Himiko's revelation. And the boss…didn't speak. For so long Himiko wondered if they were still breathing, the supreme leader of the Outcasts did not say a word.

When they did, their voice was low and hard-edged. "Tell me, Toga. How did you escape this situation?"

Himiko couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips in response. Thinking of what she'd done was just so funny. She could still remember the delicious look on Mina's face when she'd become her precious friend. She said, "Oh, it's simple. I just became Tokoyami, and the poor girl broke! Atlas had to hold her back, and I just slipped away while they were distracted!"

This time, there was no silence. A long, low sound from the colossal figure sent a shiver down Himiko's spine, and she suddenly felt very, very small.

"I see," the boss said calmly, their voice utterly matter-of-fact. "You really are a monster, aren't you?"

Himiko froze. "I…excuse me?" she began, confused. This wasn't how it was supposed to go!

"You heard me," the boss growled. "You, Himiko Toga, are a monster. A real monster, not the kind the abovegrounders call us for being different. And I will no longer tolerate you as a member of the Outcasts."

Himiko's eyes widened, just a tad. She suddenly became very aware of the darkness of the room, how cramped it was, how trapped she'd let herself become.

"We-we had a deal," she said worriedly, secretly fingering a blood vial in her sleeve, allowing it to roll down towards her wrist.

"We did," agreed that voice, that rough, lilting, fantastically deep voice. "In exchange for your help, I was willing to turn a blind eye to your…depredations."

Himiko scowled a little, even as her heart beat quicker. "I can't help myself," she muttered. "You know that. I don't have a choice."

The boss was quiet for a moment, considering. "I know that," they said at last. "I know how hard it is to fight against your own mind. But you don't even try anymore, do you?"

Himiko bared her teeth. "Why should I have to hide?" she demanded. "I can't help what I am. It's not my fault."

"Perhaps not," the boss said. "But you like it. Don't deny it, we both know it's true. You enjoy causing pain. And what you did to Mina was no instinct or urge-it was cruelty, plain and simple."

Tightening her grip on her knife, Himiko asked, "Why do you care so much about one mutant girl who helped Atlas destroy our outpost?"

The boss sighed, and a tense, heavy silence fell. Himiko heard rustling from the darkness as the boss's form drew inwards, stretching like a great cat.

"Enough of this," the boss said. "Enough of you. You've failed too many times, Toga. The deal is off."

Himiko's eyes widened. She spat, "You still need me, dammit! I won't let you do this!"

"That's the thing, Toga," the boss said softly, ever so softly. "We don't need you, not for what comes next. And I'm done feeding my people to you in exchange for your services."

Himiko hissed in frustration, taking a step away from the darkened part of the cavern. She drew her knife, and the guards around the edges of the cavern tensed. A moment later, though, a lazy wave of a massive arm made them stand down again. All except for Kamakiri, who never took his eyes from Himiko's back, his whole body perfectly, utterly still, like a big cat about to pounce.

"This doesn't have to end like this, Toga," the boss told her. "Surrender now, and you won't be harmed. You have my word."

"And what are you gonna do with me then?" Himiko spat. "Turn me into one of your examples? Throw me off a cliff? I know what you do with the people who surrender."

The boss didn't dignify that with an answer. Instead, they simply said, "Now, Kamakiri."

Himiko whirled desperately as she heard-or maybe sensed-movement behind her. A blood vial surged from her sleeve with a practiced flick of her wrist, sailing towards her mouth as she brought her knife around. It was a well-practiced trick that had always been too fast for any opponent to catch. She was gonna fight her way out, then. At least she'd get some nice tasty blood out of this.

But the vial never reached her mouth. A curved metallic blade sliced clean through the vial in midair, a blur of silvery steel singing through the air. Kamakiri had moved faster than any opponent Himiko had ever faced; was Atlas even that fast?

She didn't have time to think, though, as blood splattered uselessly against her shirt and white lines of pain carved themselves into her legs. Himiko screamed as blades flashed across the backs of her ankles and knees, slicing tendons and ripping muscles. She collapsed to her knees, unable to stand, only to find two crossed blades at her throat. She'd been rendered helpless without ever having a chance.

Himiko fought back tears of pain as the boss finally roused, drawing up onto solid legs, letting the menace of their immense body shrink a little as they emerged from the pool of darkness.

"Give us light," they commanded. A guard hit a switch on the wall, and a series of lighting panels on the ceiling suddenly began to glow, their brightness rapidly intensifying, driving back the shadows and illuminating the boss's form.

Himiko couldn't help but feel a chill as the boss's eyes bore into her. They were just plain terrifying-all solid yellow, with rings of red around their jagged shapes. His form was humanoid, but his head wasn't right-it was avian, with black plumage and a long, curved yellow beak, pitted with scars and marks, painful-looking gouges running the whole length of his beak. And of course, there were the shadows-they covered his face, crept down his bare, muscled arms and torso like an unearthly second skin, trailed behind him in the thick, ominous way that suggested they were just moments from erupting into the form of an enormous beast. They clung to him, hid under his long, ragged cloak, turned him into a boiling sea of darkness. It was impossible to tell where the man ended and the monster began-if such divisions even mattered to a being like this. Did the monster possess the man, dwarfing his body and growing around it like a carapace of not-quite-solid shadow, or did the man wear his dark armor in such a way as to make him something more? Himiko didn't know-nobody did. Fumikage Tokoyami, their leader, the strongest mutant of them all, was an enigma like that.

And he was mad now, as he looked at her. He smiled a little, in a way that had no humor in it at all. He stepped fully out of the disappearing darkness, and though the shadows shrank back, they still coated his body, turning his hands into savage claws, his face into a blank abyss pierced by inhuman yellow eyes. Fumikage knelt down in front of the bleeding, helpless Himiko, who was still trapped by Kamakiri's blades against her throat.

"So, let me get this straight," he murmured, his voice oddly formal and restrained, lacking the inhumanly guttural quality it had had just moments earlier, "when the outpost was attacked, while the others stayed to fight, you tried to run. The others have testified to that much."

Himiko stared back defiantly, at least until Kamakiri's blades edged closer to her jugular, and she nodded weakly. She didn't dare speak, not when one stray movement could slice open her throat.

"Then," Fumikage continued, his voice getting harder, "when one of the attackers-who happened to be a woman who was like family to me, by the way-chased you down, you used the vial of blood I gave you for emergencies only. But not to fight back, oh no. You used it to make her think I was dead, solely to torment her for your own sick amusement."

Himiko nodded weakly, desperately trying to think of a way to escape. She couldn't come up with one. She was dead to rights, and she knew it. When Fumikage's voice took on this deadly edge, violence always followed.

"I see," Fumikage said in response. "So that's cowardice and betrayal of my trust, to say nothing of how you managed to bring the Number One Hero down to the fucking Depths to take a crack at you. This is what I get for trusting a serial killer, I suppose."

Himiko spat at him. "F…fuck you," she said weakly. Kamakiri's blades tightened further, opening up a thin red line across Himiko's throat as they broke the skin. Himiko closed her eyes, waiting for the deathblow.

But it didn't come. Instead, Fumikage allowed a stray branch of his shadowy quirk's arm to clear away the spittle on his cheek, then met Himiko's eyes again. "The only reason I haven't killed you for all of the mutants you've killed over the years-to say nothing of how you lied to Mina-is because you were useful," Fumikage told her, his voice calm and polite even as he discussed cold-blooded murder. "But you're not useful anymore. You're a liability, in fact. And it feels so good not having to compromise my morals for the sake of having you on our side. The only reason I haven't ripped your head from your shoulders yet is because I have a better idea for what to do with you."

Himiko willed herself not to tremble as she asked, "Well, what is it? It's not like you to keep a girl waiting."

Fumikage smiled, a grin so terrifying in its eager brutality that it would have chilled anyone on Earth to the bone.

"Death is too good for you," he announced, "and after all, our dear friend Atlas came all that way for you, and has nothing to show for it. It's only fair today he should get what he wants. I hope you enjoy Tartarus, my dear Himiko."

Himiko's eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to beg-not Tartarus, not that awful place where she'd spend the rest of her life in a helpless, drugged-out haze, tied to a chair-but it was too late. Fumikage stood, and the darkness swirled around him like water. It rushed forwards in the shape of a fist, heading straight for Himiko's face-

And then the light disappeared, and there was only the darkness, and Himiko was sinking, sinking, down into that black abyss.

Fumikage nodded to Kamakiri, and his lieutenant allowed the serial killer's unconscious body to slump unceremoniously to the ground.

"Was that necessary?" Kamakiri asked.

Fumikage sighed. "Unfortunately, yes," he confirmed. "Plus, don't deny that it felt good to give her what she deserves."

Kamakiri said nothing, but the amused look in his eye spoke for him. "Now what?" he asked, back to business.

Fumikage looked around the room, at the bare stone and the worried, respectful eyes of his men. He knew the answer already.

"It's time to prepare the next phase of the plan," he replied. "And it's time I reconnected with some old friends."

Kamakiri nodded, then gestured for several guards to collect Toga from the ground, dragging her out of the room. Kamakiri followed them out, leaving Fumikage alone at last. He slumped back into a sitting position on the ground, resting his head in one shadowy, clawed hand.

"Oh, Mina," he murmured sadly, "What have you done?"