When Izuku finally got back to Aegis, he found it deserted, despite it being what passed for the middle of the day below ground.
That was Ejiro's doing, he assumed gratefully; he didn't particularly want the others to see him so banged-up. That would just fuel rumors he really didn't need to deal with right now. He had enough shit on his plate already.
Izuku made his way inside. He figured that Ejiro and the others would be in his office, awaiting answers about the whole situation-answers it was long past time for him to give. But…well, he was still in his torn, bloody costume, and he was tired of it.
So, a quick shower and change of clothes later, he finally made his way into his office. Sure enough, he found everyone waiting there. Ochako and Momo sitting on one of the couches, Ejiro in Izuku's usual chair behind the desk, Kugo leaning his massive bulk against a bookshelf, and…
"Uh, hi, sir," Akari said awkwardly from one of the armchairs. The young heroine looked distinctly uncomfortable, though whether it was from being in the presence of so many of the most famous heroes in Japan, the enormous mutant looming ominously from the corner of the room, or something else, Izuku couldn't tell.
Izuku blinked. Every other hero in Aegis wasn't here; what the hell was the most newly-promoted one doing in the most secret meeting this building had ever held? He stared blankly at the girl for a long moment, then turned his gaze to Ejiro, his demand for an explanation so obvious he didn't even need to say a word.
Ejiro grinned, though it was weak and wan compared to his usual shark-toothed smile. He sighed, "Look, how she did it is beyond me, but she figured it out."
Izuku's eyebrows shot up; as he turned to Akari, she turned red and squeaked, "Hey! I didn't… figure it out, I just…said that I thought something weird was up with Atlas-he kept disappearing for long periods of time, and coming back with weird injuries. And I also said that I was pretty sure it had to do with that mutant who attacked the broadcasting stations."
Izuku's expression grew even more incredulous. Turning back to Ejiro, he asked, "How the hell did that happen? Also, where's Bloodhound? I thought she'd be here."
Ejiro shrugged. "Bloodhound was here, but she had to go respond to a call," he replied, "Something about a disturbance in the lower levels, near the power plant. As for how Holo here managed to put the pieces together…I have no fucking clue. But hey, that's what we get for hiring the best detectives UA has to offer. I figured that it'd be best to just let her get the full story with the rest of us."
Izuku nodded, but before Akari could blush again or he could say anything else, Ochako added, "So, on that note…what is the full story? And more importantly, where is Mina?"
Akari frowned. "Who's Mina?" she asked.
Izuku sighed. Well, here it was. He'd been hiding so many things from all of them for so long, part of him wasn't even sure if he could explain everything. But he had to try. He couldn't lie anymore, not to his friends, to the people who he would need to trust to stand any chance of coming out of this alive and in one piece.
"Alright," he said. "It's a long story, but I'll do my best."
He took a seat, and told them everything.
He started from the beginning, with Mina saving his life, and kept going; he found that once he got going, the words wouldn't stop. They flowed like water over a wound, washing it clean.
He told them about seeing Mina's face for the first time, and saving her after her fight with Bakugo. He told them about the hunt for Toga, meeting Mezou and Tsu, and the assault on the Neo-Stainist compound.
He told them about Toga's escape, subsequent capture, and the horrible truths about Mina's life that he'd learned in the aftermath; the people she'd lost and then found again-one in truly agonizing fashion.
He told them about falling in love with the most unique woman he'd ever met, and about Mayor Takao's blackmail, too.
And finally, he told them about Fumikage, the Outcasts, the awful battle that he'd lost, and just who had saved him and Mina, down at the bottom of the Chasm.
When he finished, there was a stunned silence in the room. Even Kugo stared at him in surprise-evidently there had been some parts of the story even he hadn't known. Akari seemed to be utterly dumbstruck-or maybe just too shy to speak up.
Inevitably, Ejiro was the first to speak. "Well, I'll be damned," he said in his usual rough voice. "Some fucking people have all the fun, don't they?"
Izuku chuckled darkly, mostly out of the lurching feeling of the tension suddenly being broken; Momo, outraged, snapped, "Really, Kirishima? Is now the time?"
Ejiro shrugged. "Look, I'm just saying, okay?" he replied. "This fucker just told us that he got saved by two semi-mythical figures-figures that half this damn city worship as literal gods, by the way-and they were a couple of crazy ancient geezers hiding in a hole! And then they lectured him about being a better person! You all might take that in stride, but I'm his best friend-it's practically my job to tell him what a ridiculous story that is!"
"I know it's ridiculous," Izuku said quietly, "But it's true, Ejiro. I swear."
Ejiro looked at him with a perfectly deadpan expression. "I am entirely aware it's true, Izuku," he said brusquely. "Because it's you telling it, and there is literally nothing too ridiculous for me to believe when it comes to you. But come on!"
Izuku sighed, chuckles breaking out once again. "Yeah," he said. "It's kinda ridiculous, but hey, it's the truth."
Ochako snorted. "You always end up in the middle of these things," she agreed. "But all joking aside, we really do need to figure out what we're going to do. First things first-the Mayor is seriously blackmailing you?"
Izuku hung his head. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I probably should've put a stop to it sooner, but-"
"But nothing," Ochako interrupted. "Izuku, you've been up to your ears in bullshit for weeks now. Trying to navigate an insanely fraught relationship, dealing with a city that's on the edge of combusting, and dealing with the biggest threat to society since fucking Shigaraki is more than anyone could handle already-nevermind the elected official actively trying to blackmail you!"
Izuku couldn't help but smile at that. Ochako's righteous anger on his behalf was always endearing-as well as bracing. He felt himself sit up a little straighter, breathing freer as he finally began to calm down and think properly for the first time in what felt like forever.
"So," Momo summarized. "You and Mina are in a secret relationship that has a very real chance of turning this city into a fireball when the secret eventually gets out, and the man holding that secret can't be trusted in the fucking slightest to not throw you under the bus. Great."
The conversation slowed that that point, none of them sure where to even start tackling the problems in front of them. But that had always been Izuku's greatest strength-not his quirk, or his public relations skills, or even his heroic heart. No, the thing he was truly unmatched at was planning. That was why, when he spoke, hero and mutant alike went silent, and turned to him expectantly.
"I don't know about you guys," he said, "But I'm fucking tired of being on the back foot. Let's figure out a plan here. First things first, the blackmail is bad, but it can wait-we need to deal with Fumikage first, or there won't be a city left to reveal Mina and I to."
There were grim nods at that.
"You think you can beat him?" Ejiro asked. "He won before."
Izuku clenched his fist. "I was distracted, surprised, and unprepared, before," he replied. "I can take him-especially since I'm not alone. I have you guys."
Ejiro, Momo, and Ochako, his oldest comrades, nodded at that; Kugo and Akari had very different expressions.
Akari cleared her throat, then stammered, "Uh…are you including me in this? Because I was a sidekick until like two weeks ago, I really don't know how much I'll be able to help against the likes of Fumikage-"
Ejiro cut her off with a glance. "You're a hero, ain't you?" he asked sharply. "Sure, you're outgunned, and you're green-but you've still trained for this, and we need you. If you don't step up, who will?"
In that moment, Izuku became convinced that Akari would one day be great; all insecurity and awkwardness vanished from her face in an instant, and her eyes flashed with an intensity every hero in the room knew well. "Got it," she said, nodding once.
Then, Izuku turned to Kugo, who glared at him, all dark, inscrutable menace.
"If you try to give me an inspirational speech and call me a hero," the orca mutant growled warningly, "I'm going to vomit."
Izuku snorted. "Wouldn't dream of it," he answered. "Maybe you aren't a hero, Kugo. But we need every man we can get, right now. You're here, and you're needed."
Kugo's eyes flashed dangerously-or maybe that light was different, a sign of something else. He sighed.
"Fine," he grumbled. "But don't forget who you're fighting here-they're in the right, not you."
Izuku nodded. "I know," he admitted softly. "But I have to protect the innocent people who'll be in the Outcasts' path."
Kugo said nothing, so Izuku assumed he was alright with that-or at the very least, he didn't care enough to contradict him.
With a grunt, Izuku stood. He put all his worries aside-his fears for Mina, who was still alone and missing, somewhere far beneath the ground, and his growing worry that the simple act of fighting Fumikage would put him on the wrong side of history. None of that mattered in that moment-despite it all, he was still Atlas, the greatest hero Japan had ever seen.
"We've got a lot of planning to do," he declared. "And less than twenty-four hours to get ready. I don't doubt that Fumikage is preparing to attack even as we speak. We'll get that done. But after that, I need to get ready."
Ejiro frowned. "Ready for what?" he asked.
Izuku grinned. He might have been tricked and manipulated by Takao, but that didn't mean he was powerless-far from it. He still had a few cards up his sleeve.
"I have a party to get to," he replied. "And I want to make it the most memorable one in this city's history."
In the end, it took Mina nearly two hours to find the right home, wandering the streets of Homeland, jumping desperately every time someone's eyes lingered on her cloaked form.
She knew how insane it was, knew how likely it was that her oldest friends would betray her. But she had to do it, had to see them anyway-had to look Tsu and Mezou in the eye, if this was the last time they ever saw each other.
Because sometimes, all the logic in the world was meaningless. Because humans-and monsters, too-are creatures of love, not reason.
She had to see them again, one last time. End of story. It was a blind leap into the dark…but Mina was used to those.
When she finally found the right place, she recognized it because of the sight of Tsu through the small glass window. She seemed to be baking something, judging by the platter in her hands. She couldn't see Mezou.
It took a few minutes to get her courage up to knock; Mina stared at the door, desperately hoping against hope that she wouldn't doom herself, that trying to see people she loved wouldn't mean she'd break her promise to return to another person she loved.
At last, she took a deep breath, and rapped her knuckles against the wooden door.
From inside, Mina heard Tsu ask, "Love, could you get that?"
"I got it," Mezou's voice rumbled back.
Mina's heart climbed higher in her throat as Mezou's thundering footsteps drew closer to the door. She desperately tried to think of something to say, but-
The door opened, long before she was ready. Mezou stepped forwards, mouth opening to speak, but before he could make any sound at all, his eyes landed on her, and he completely and utterly froze.
It would have been funny, if Mina wasn't bracing for him to attack her, or to shout for someone to capture or kill her. But the silence stretched on, Mezou's eyes practically bugging out as he stared at her.
Weakly, she said, "H-Hi, Mezou. Uh, long time no see?"
Behind Mezou, Tsu asked, "Love, who is it?"
She stepped forwards, into view behind her husband. Mina heard a crash as whatever she was holding shattered on the stone floor.
Once more, she braced for shouting, for something.
Finally, that something happened; Mezou's arms surged forwards and wrapped her into a tight, inescapable hug, dragging her inside the door as it shut. A moment later, Tsu slammed into her as well.
"How?" Mezou whispered, barely able to form words.
"My God," Tsu breathed, already starting to cry just as her husband was. "You're alive."
Mina was still drawn into herself, but slowly, as she wasn't attacked, she began to look up, and returned the hug. Soon, all three of them were sobbing shamelessly, no longer able to form words, even to ask the questions that were no doubt burning in Mezou and Tsu's minds.
It was then that Mina realized something; it hadn't been until that moment, wrapped up in the arms of her family, hearing them sob, that she really, truly felt like she'd survived the Chasm. Izuku had done his best, but she'd seen him fall, too; it took the warm arms around her, the feeling of Mezou and Tsu holding her tight, to chase the last of the hollowness in her soul away.
Until then, her actions had felt more like those of a vengeful ghost than anything; crawling through the deepest, darkest pits of the Depths, confronting Fumi, all of it had been driven by that hollow grief and rage. But this, this hug, the love she was suddenly and overwhelmingly smothered in…this was real.
She had lived. She had come home.
When they could finally speak again, Mezou and Tsu bundled her into the living room for the inevitable interrogation.
They wanted to know everything; how she'd gotten there, how she'd survived, all of it. She did her best to answer, without having to derail the conversation into explaining that, yes, the semi-legendary demigods of the Underground were real, and they had been happily married for eighty years. Quite frankly, that didn't feel real enough yet to Mina for her to even be able to explain it.
But inevitably, the questions took another turn.
"So you and Atlas are…" Mezou began, before he looked too nauseated by the thought to even finish.
Mina stared him in the eye; he was sitting in a chair across from her and Tsu, who had bundled up on the couch, the other woman seemingly unwilling to let Mina out of her grasp for so much as a second.
"Dating? Yes. In love? Double yes. Having lots and lots of passionate, bed-breaking sex?" Mina replied, secretly enjoying the growing horror on Mezou's face as she continued, "Extreme yes."
For a second, Mezou looked like he wanted to vomit. Tsu couldn't help the snicker that escaped her mouth at that.
"Disgusting," he groaned eventually.
Mina raised an eyebrow. "What?" she demanded. "Is that because I'm in love with a hero?"
Mezou gave her a look that was part bewilderment, part understanding, and part lingering distaste. "Of course not," he replied. "It's because now I'll never be able to get the mental image of you and… him…"
Mina laughed at that, as did Tsu; the smaller woman eventually fake-whispered to her, more than loud enough for Mezou to hear, "We worked through all his issues with you dating a hero already. This is just because he doesn't like the thought of you having sex, and he really doesn't like Izuku."
Mina blinked. "Why don't you like him?" she asked, putting aside the usual overprotectiveness she'd come to expect from Mezou.
Mezou scowled. "Do I need a reason?" he asked. "He's fucking the woman I consider my sister. I'm allowed to hate his guts purely on principle!"
"And we're allowed to laugh at you for it, babe," Tsu replied.
Sadly, the joyous mood couldn't last forever. Eventually, Mina realized that something didn't add up.
"Hang on," she asked, "How did you know about me and Izuku, Mezou?"
Mezou's face shifted; soon, he wore a grim, pained expression as memories bubbled up.
When he failed to answer, it fell to Tsu, who sadly replied, "We were there, Mina. At the Chasm."
Mina's eyes went wide. "Oh," she said quietly. "So you saw…"
"Everything," Mezou rumbled.
Silence filled the room at that, the kind of quiet that rang with pain and horror too deep to put into words, but perfectly understood by all.
There was nothing to say. What could possibly be explained or justified or shared about such an event? Every word Mina had, she'd said to Fumi, or Izuku, or to herself. Every sob and scream and shout was already drained away; every curse had already been hurled. Judging by the look in Mezou's eye, he'd done the same.
Then, at last, Tsu asked, "If you survived…did Izuku?"
Mina closed her eyes, and nodded. "Yeah," she breathed, once more thanking every god and spirit she could think of. She didn't know what she would have done if he hadn't. She didn't even want to think about it. "He's back in the Underground right now."
Mezou and Tsu shared a look at that; they seemed to silently agree to save further questions-of which they had many-for later.
Instead, Tsu said, "If he is, then Fumi…"
"Is walking into a death trap," Mezou said grimly. "And all the Outcasts, too."
The silence that fell this time was grimmer, yet more anticipatory. The issue that could no longer be put off had finally come up.
Slowly, nervously, Mina asked, "What are you going to do?"
Mezou stared down at his hands, then back up to Mina and Tsu, then back down. At last, he whispered, "I…don't know."
"We can't stay out of it," Tsu said, in her confident way, knowing that merely by speaking it, she had taken it off the table. She was the reasonable one, the thoughtful one; she always had been. When she said something could not be done, it was not done.
Mezou nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "But…but helping the Outcasts, after what happened…just thinking about it makes me sick."
"Even though it's Fumi?" Mina asked softly.
Mezou let out a breath. "Yeah," he admitted. "Even though it's Fumi. What he did to you…I can't forgive it. I can understand it, but that's as far as I go."
Mina nodded, understanding perfectly. After all, hadn't she said that exact thing?
Mezou turned to her. "You're not going to ask us to join you?" he asked quizzically. "After everything?"
Mina smiled sadly. "I can't do that to you," she said quietly. "I can't make you choose between me and Fumi. I did it…and it almost destroyed me. It still might."
Mezou did not look away from her. He didn't flinch. He simply said, "But you chose."
Mina nodded.
Mezou leaned back. Then, he asked Mina, "Does he care about us? Your hero?"
Mina met his eyes. "He does," she answered. "He understands us better than even I thought-better than you can imagine. He grew up a lot more like us than you think."
"And now that he has power," Mezou said, firm and fierce, "does he still remember? Does he give a shit?"
Mina still did not look away, yellow-gold eyes blazing like the sun. "You know what he's doing up there right now?" she said. "He's standing in front of some of the most powerful men in the country, and telling them that they're wrong. He is saying that the Outcasts are right, that the best way to stop this war before it starts is to give them what they want. He is risking everything to help them. If that isn't giving a shit, I don't know what is."
When Mina finished, Mezou didn't respond. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, and folded his many arms across his chest.
"So, this is what it's come to," he said, low and deep and dark. "Either I help heroes kill my brother, or I help the man who killed my sister."
Mina and Tsu exchanged a glance. Then, Mina stood, crossing the gap to reach Mezou's side.
"It doesn't have to go that way," she whispered. "He doesn't have to die."
Mezou looked at Mina, his eyes tired and pained and still full of fire. "The fact that you still have enough hope in your heart to love a hero the way you do makes me happier than you can imagine," he said softly, his voice striking like a hammer, "but I know you're not that naive, Mina. You know how this is going to end. And even if it doesn't-Tartarus is worse, not better."
Mina stepped back, unable to argue. She knew he was right.
Mezou looked away from her, and towards his wife. Her expression, wide and flat on her froggish face, was utterly unreadable-except by him.
"What do we do?" he asked softly.
In response, Tsu smiled. It was the kind of smile only love could create, so bright and sure and kind that it chased away the dark.
"You know," she answered, with her strength born of anger, her love fueled by rage. "You've already made your choice, Mezou. I know you."
Mezou sighed. "That's what I was afraid of," he muttered, before a smile returned to his features as he looked back at his wife. "I love you."
Tsu smiled. "I know," she replied. She turned to Mina.
"You need to get going," she replied. "Before anyone realizes you're here. Get back to the Underground, and tell the heroes everything you can."
Mina nodded, ignoring the way part of her begged to stay, to bask in the light of a place where she was loved and accepted so freely. As wonderful as it was, it wasn't her home-that was Izuku. It would always be.
"What about you?" she asked hopefully.
Tsu and Mezou exchanged a glance. Then, Mezou stood, wrapping her in a ferocious hug.
"We'll be there," he whispered. "We promise."
That was good enough, Mina decided. It had to be.
Fumikage sat quietly in his chambers, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.
It had been a few hours since Mina's miraculous appearance, yet he still felt just as raw and agonized as he had the moment he saw her. Everything was a mess, and he didn't know what to focus on. His grief at the things that were forever broken between them? His rage at her insults? His horror over what he had done to her?
Or, more callously, her revelation that Atlas was still alive? He had no clue how he could replicate his victory over the hated hero, not when it had taken everything he'd had to win, on top of grave, fatal mistakes by his opponent. If he returned and learned from his previous failure…Fumikage wasn't sure if he could win.
Or perhaps it was something else, lurking underneath the freshest wounds; Keigo's words were still whirling around in his head, disturbing his thoughts.
What did he want, after it was all over? What did he believe was best? Did he even have the right to decide?
He didn't know the answers. And, just as Keigo had warned him, he feared that without them, he would fail the people who followed him, believing in his dream of a better world.
He was out of options. He didn't know what to do. And on top of it all…there was another issue, one rippling across his body and through his mind in waves of shadow, giving him impressions of an urge to get out.
"Dark Shadow," Fumikage said slowly, cautiously. "What do you want?"
The dark voice in his head stirred. Shadow rippled across Fumikage's shoulders and chest as he replied, "I'm not talking to you like this, Fumikage."
Fumikage frowned. "Why not?" he asked.
"Turn off the lights," came the reply. "Then we can talk."
Fumikage tensed. The cavern was one of the brightest rooms in Homeland, by sheer necessity-it was where Fumikage went when he was struggling to control his quirk, to rein it back in. Take away the lights, though…and it was nothing but a pitch-black hole under uncountable tons of stone and earth, a prison with just one way in or out. He'd be trapped in a twenty-foot cage with a monster made of nightmares.
Was he willing to take that risk? Was his desire to know, to answer Keigo's questions, really strong enough to overpower reason?
Fumikage hadn't even formed his answer before he found himself rising to his feet. Before he could regret it, he strode across the room and sealed the heavy door. Then, he reached for the switch next to the frame, and flipped it.
Instantly, there was utter darkness in the room. Not a single light shone in the suffocating, inky black.
Fumikage felt Dark Shadow surge against his chains, suddenly twenty times stronger, and growing with every passing second. His breathing quickened, hoping he hadn't just doomed himself.
"Alright, I did what you wanted, Dark Shadow," Fumikage said, not bothering to keep the hitch of fear from his voice-Dark Shadow could read his mind, he'd see it either way. "Now, let's talk."
For a second, there was no response. Then, the darkness in Fumikage's chest coalesced and erupted outwards. For a moment, Fumikage felt as if something were tearing itself free of his flesh.
At last, the shadows coalesced into a form, with a birdlike head and no limbs-a bizarre sort of snake, perhaps, as big around as a man's torso, curving and curling in the air with no regard for gravity, attached by a narrow umbilical cord to Fumikage's chest.
"Ahh, that feels good," Dark Shadow purred; Fumikage couldn't tell if the words came from his quirk's mouth, or merely echoed in Fumikage's mind. "You really should let me out more often, Fumi."
Fumikage went tense again at the nickname. Mezou had called him that. Mina had called him that. Dark Shadow seemed to be mocking him, taunting him with all that his path had cost him. "Don't call me that," he snapped. "And you know why I don't let you out."
Dark Shadow merely hummed in response, a low, deep, ominous sound that felt like a tremble in the earth, one that preceded a terrible earthquake. "Do I?" he asked tauntingly.
Forcing down his growing worry that he'd made a deadly mistake, Fumikage took a deep breath, and said firmly, "Don't play dumb, Dark Shadow. You know."
Dark Shadow turned in the air, coming to face Fumikage; his empty, glowing yellow eyes bored into him. "All I know is that you keep me in a cage because you're scared of me," he growled. He had claws now, sharp things that unfolded from his front limbs as they grew, his power strengthening the longer he basked in the utter darkness of the room.
"I'm not scared of you," Fumikage said, somehow managing to look his quirk in the eye.
In response, Dark Shadow laughed, long and loud.
"Didn't you want to do this because you wanted to stop lying to yourself?" he asked tauntingly.
Damnit, Fumikage was losing control faster than he thought he would. "Shut up," he hissed, trying to keep himself from shaking. It didn't matter; Dark Shadow was in his mind, he could see everything Fumikage felt.
His quirk advanced on him, sinuous shadow body winding around Fumikage in circles, forcing him to keep turning to keep Dark Shadow's head in his vision. "And who's going to make me?" Dark Shadow rumbled dangerously. The chains were straining again, his claws growing longer, sharper.
Despite it all, Fumikage held firm. He had not become the greatest man in the Depths by folding to intimidation, or by being cowed by threats.
"Dark Shadow," he said with steel in his voice. "You wanted to talk, so let's talk. If you threaten me again, I'm turning the lights back on."
The sudden shift in Dark Shadow's demeanor was stark; he stopped circling, stopped menacing Fumikage with his claws and size and strength. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, faster-the voice of someone trying to avoid a punishment they desperately feared. "Threaten you?" he said. "That wasn't a threat, Fumi. I promise."
Fumikage let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Maybe he could still maintain control of the situation. "And why should I believe you?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
For a second, he dared to hope that Dark Shadow would keep up the meek, nervous attitude. But as time passed and he continued to grow stronger in the dark, he crept back towards danger. He wasn't quite there yet, though; he was somewhere in the middle, now.
"You really don't trust me, do you?" he asked softly.
Fumikage snorted, arms crossed. "How could I, after what you've done?" he demanded.
Dark Shadow seemed annoyed by that. "I've helped you," he protested. "I've defended you. I've killed who you told me to kill."
Fumikage snapped, "And you've killed more people than I told you to. You've tried to kill me."
That seemed to get to Dark Shadow. Desperately, he insisted, "I would never do that."
Fumikage raised an eyebrow. "How many times have you threatened me, or tried to break free?" he asked angrily, mind filled with memories of close calls, of living in terror of hurting the people around him. "Actions speak louder than words, Dark Shadow."
For a second, Dark Shadow was quiet, and Fumikage dared to hope he'd won, somehow. But he'd let Dark Shadow bask too long in his own power, let him grow dangerously confident all over again.
"Do they?" Dark Shadow asked, claws stretching towards Fumikage in an obvious threat. He was the size of a car, now, winding around and around Fumikage's body like a serpent. "Then what would you do if I took action right now?"
It was too much for Fumikage. "That's it-" he snarled, whirling and reaching for the switch. This had been a stupid idea. Dark Shadow was little more than a monster, hungry for mindless destruction and little else. He wouldn't find his answers here.
But before he could reach the switch, Dark Shadow flung himself between Fumikage's hand and the switch.
Fumikage braced for an attack, for Dark Shadow to finally turn on him. But instead, Dark Shadow said "Okay, okay, fine! Here's the truth, Fumi: I'm scared of you, too."
Suddenly, Fumikage paused in his tracks. What? That made no sense. Dark Shadow had all the power, all the strength; he was eternally chomping at the bit, a bare few minutes of exposure to darkness away from breaking free and running wild.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded.
Dark Shadow floated there, looking much less dangerous than he had just a minute before; he stretched his hands out and up, as if mimicking the human gesture for "I mean you no harm."
"Think about it," he said, almost pleadingly. "If a man held this much power over you, if he could yank on your leash whenever he wanted, shove him back into a black box on a whim-you'd be scared of him too, wouldn't you?"
Once more, Fumikage staggered. "I…hadn't thought about it like that," he admitted. He'd been so afraid, so desperate to protect those he knew, he'd shoved Dark Shadow away, keeping him at arm's length.
Dark Shadow simply snorted in response. "Of course you hadn't," he replied. "You keep thinking I'm a thing, a weapon you can call out and point at whatever you want destroyed. And when I don't do that, you get scared, and shove me away. A lot like the abovegrounders have done to you, come to think of it."
That was too much for Fumikage. His mind rebelled at the comparison, at the suggestion that he was just like the people he hated. "I am not like them," he snapped.
Dark Shadow chuckled, as if he knew every emotion running through Fumikage's head, and found them endearing. Knowing him, he did. "Actions speak louder than words, Fumi," he replied, throwing his words right back in his face.
For a moment, Fumikage wanted to spit in his quirk's face, for all the pain he'd suffered, all the insults, all the fear. But…if he did, then he would be like the abovegrounders, wouldn't he? He'd have reacted with fear and loathing to an attempt to reach out, to bridge a gap of understanding.
That was what this was, he realized. Dark Shadow, for all his mistrust, all his fear, all his trapped, helpless rage, was trying in his way to reach out.
Fumikage would not be who he was, would not have forged countless terrified victims and hate-filled monsters into an army of hope, if he could not recognize a chance to understand an enemy, to reach out-and in so doing, perhaps discover that they weren't an enemy at all.
So he fought down all the venom and pain bubbling in his chest, took a deep breath, and quietly admitted, "I…you're right, Dark Shadow."
If Dark Shadow could have blinked, he would have at that moment; as it was, Fumikage felt his confusion clear as day. He'd expected to be shot down, to be dismissed. "I…am?" he repeated.
Fumikage nodded, stepping forwards, away from the light switch, as he searched for the right words to say. He found them.
"Yes," he said; the admission, despite all the pain, despite all the self-loathing and grief and rage in his heart, felt oddly cleansing. "I have treated you like a weapon. I have been afraid of you."
Dark Shadow's eyes narrowed. "You think that's good enough?" he asked, suspicion plain on his inhuman face.
"Of course not," Fumikage snorted, shaking his head. "So, here's my question: what do you want?"
Once more, Dark Shadow looked at him mystified. "Huh?" he asked.
"You heard me, Dark Shadow," Fumikage replied. "I'm done treating you like a tool. You have a choice, too, just like me. You have something you want. So…what is it?"
For a moment, the new connection, the new balance Fumikage could feel beginning to form between him and his quirk, teetered back and forth, still not quite stable yet. But it had a chance-and that was good enough.
Perhaps this would be his answer? Perhaps he could finally settle Keigo's question.
At last, Dark Shadow said, "Freedom. That's what I want."
Fumikage blinked, and disappointment threatened to overwhelm him. "Freedom from me?" he asked, shaking his head. "I…don't think that's possible."
And even if it was, Fumikage didn't want to know what the cost would be. He'd made many sacrifices, for many reasons-but that felt too far.
In response, Dark Shadow snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Fumi," he said. "I don't want that. I want freedom with you, not from you."
Fumikage blinked, confused. "Wait…really?" he asked, trying to make sense of what his quirk had said.
Dark Shadow slipped closer to him, hovering just over his shoulder. Somehow, it didn't feel like a threatening gesture, the way his earlier movements had-this felt reassuring, perhaps even friendly. "Believe it or not, despite everything, I don't hate you, Fumi," he murmured softly. "I never have. I just wanted fair treatment-the same thing you want from the abovegrounders."
Surprised and more than a little touched, Fumikage said, "You really have been learning from me, haven't you?"
Dark Shadow's expression was as close as he could get to a genuine smile at that. "I'm part of you, Fumi," he replied. "Just like you're part of me. We aren't separate-and neither of us are monsters."
Fumikage nodded slowly. For the first time since Atlas had crashed to the earth before the Chasm, he let himself feel hope, let the burdens of leadership and grief and his sins ease a little. "I…see," he said. "Fair treatment-I can give you that. Truce?"
Dark Shadow nodded, curving further around Fumikage's shoulders "Yes," he agreed. "But that's not enough, and you know it, Fumi."
Fumikage sighed, and nodded his head slowly. All his worries came flooding back-but this time, he felt just a little more prepared to face them.
"If we're going to do this-beat Atlas, earn our freedom, be what they want us to be-we have to be on the same page," Dark Shadow warned him. "We have to work together."
"I know," Fumikage whispered. He didn't need to put his fears into words-Dark Shadow knew them, had always known them.
Dark Shadow didn't let up, though. He continued, "You have to stop holding me back-have to stop holding yourself back."
Fumikage hung his head. When he finally raised it again, his eyes were blazing.
"Can I trust you?" he asked his quirk.
Dark Shadow met his eyes. "Only as much as you trust yourself," he replied.
For a moment, Fumikage hesitated. He didn't trust himself. How could he? All the mistakes he'd made, all the people he'd hurt…what he'd done to Mina. He didn't dare trust himself.
Except…Keigo's words once again came back to him.
"You're arrogant, Boss-and you fucking should be. You're about the only man I've ever met who I actually think can change this rotten fucking world."
He thought, too, of what Craton and Faultline had told him, all those years ago, when he'd woken up from the most terrifying experience of his life to find two dead gods staring down at him. They'd taught him so much, had given him the strength and knowledge to do what he had done in creating the Outcasts-but they'd told him that he had to step up when he was needed, or it would all be meaningless, too.
Fumikage was done lying to himself. He had to be, if he wanted to change anything. He had to trust himself, despite all his failures. Doing anything less would be spitting on the faith of everyone who had chosen to follow him.
He closed his eyes, and said, "I…deal. Together?"
There was only one response from Dark Shadow: "Together."
Twenty minutes later, Fumikage strode into the council, who had been putting the final touches on the plans for their final assault.
The room seemed to reorient itself around him as he joined the table; he received grateful glances from Kamakiri, Kuroiro, and Ibara, a nod of acknowledgement from Kon, and a strange, appraising look from Keigo.
He ignored all of them in favor of looking at the plans and maps arrayed on the table. It took him a scant few moments to absorb all the important information, before he looked back up at his council.
"Are we ready?" he asked.
Kon nodded. "Just about," he replied. "All that's left is to decide who's doing what part."
So that was why they needed him. With the possible exception of his lieutenants, these mutants weren't used to working together on an assault of this scale-if he didn't tell them, with absolute certainty, what they were doing, they'd probably end up clashing with each other. Well, so be it.
"Kon, you'll be leading your men," he began, "engage the heroes, don't let them get organized, keep the pressure on. Keigo, I want you providing aerial support wherever it's needed. Take out any heroes who try to stop you. Ibara, you're on support for our main force-I want you protecting them, getting any wounded to safety, and covering them. Obviously, if a hero is giving you trouble, you have permission to deal with them."
Fumikage went down the list, assigning commands and roles to the various people assembled in the room, both regular commanders and those of his council who were combatants. At last, he came to the final two-those who he had special missions for.
"Kuroiro," he said, making the jet-black man look up to meet his eyes. "You'll be starting the fireworks off with a bang."
Kuroiro raised an eyebrow. "And how will I do that, Dark One?" he asked in his cold, formal way.
Fumikage smiled, and pointed to a section of a map that had been circled in red. "I want you to destroy this," he said. "We stole some goodies from the Tunnel Rats that will help. Once you've done that, the rest of us will have free rein."
Kuroiro leaned over to look at his target, then nodded. Fumikage thought he saw the ghost of a grin on his face. "It will be done, Dark One," he said somberly.
A moment later, he vanished, off to complete the first part of their assault. Fumikage knew he would succeed-and part of him now eagerly awaited the result. It was sure to be spectacular.
"And what about me, Boss?" Kamakiri asked in his rasping voice. "What's my job?"
Once again, Fumikage smiled, knowing that Kamakiri would enjoy this mission. He reached down onto the table, picking up a piece of paper-a photograph, fuzzy and indistinct, but still unmistakable.
"You, my friend," he said, "are going after our biggest obstacle."
"And what is that?" Kamakiri asked flatly. He had little patience for these games-but Fumikage couldn't help it. They were so close, and besides, he needed a little levity after everything.
He slid the picture over to Kamakiri, who picked it up wordlessly. When he saw who it was, his eyes began to gleam with a deadly light, his lips curving up into a bloody smile.
"Ahh," he hissed, killing intent and smug satisfaction mingling in his voice. "Him."
Fumikage nodded. As Kamakiri put the picture back down, he caught a flash of red from it, and the smile on his oldest lieutenant's face spread to his, as well.
"Precisely," he agreed. "Your target is the other Top Ten hero in this city. Good hunting, Kamakiri."
With that, everything was set, and the dominoes were in motion. Nothing could stop it now.
The Outcasts were coming.