Hello, everyone! Well, the journey since the beginning of our Heroes' desperate mission has been long and painful in multiple ways, and I can only hope it's been absolutely captivating for you all every step of the way. With them now having made it onto Pietro's submarine, I imagine you all can just smell the penultimate climax of the Hokkaido Arc starting to build in the air. This is yet another chapter where I've really tried to follow in Horikoshi's playbook, by taking the time to truly flesh out whatever I can about the original characters we've gotten to meet and get to know throughout this experience, and I can only hope I've done it in a way that you all find effective and satisfying.
If you like what you end up reading here today, please be so kind as to give me a review, sharing what you've been enjoying most, or areas you feel I could improve upon. Every little bit of honest advice helps.
I'd like to give another thankful shout-out to the continued support of my two beta readers, Mizu and Jonny, wherever the former may be right now; as well as the wonderful work of my current roster of contributing artists through DA: Syyndev, Akane Kahomi, Suki-Chan2509 and AliceKuroCross. Please feel free to give their artworks for this story a look over on my DA account 'ubasnaga.' They're all awesome artists and deserve all the support they can get.
My Hero Academia is the property of Kouhei Horikoshi and Shonen Jump. I only own my original characters and the original events surrounding them.
A/N: [[]] indicates that characters are contextually speaking Russian.
Chapter 84
The Fallen Hero
(Павший Герой)
From the moment Volga had sent a massive tidal wave straight at the Heroes in Gagaringrad, and dropped an artillery payload on their old hospital headquarters, Pietro Dobrynich Granin had resigned himself to the darkened confines of the submarine. With his past military knowledge on top of his Quirk's natural thoroughness when probing into and reshaping the memories of others, he was already well on his way, with a fully capable crew of the remainders of the conditioned townspeople handling all of the stations needed to make their voyage for Sakhalin Island as smooth as possible. With Volga monitoring things from the water and keeping close to the gunboat, he could scarcely imagine anything else being able to get in their way.
So much so, that for but a minute, he was finally able to breathe easy and check in on his most valuable assets for the journey ahead; being Alyosha and his lab/chemistry equipment, with a fully-stocked series of crates he knew to be carrying all of their Quirk Explosion bullets; The Giver still gagged and fully strapped down to a portable operating table; and Valera sitting quietly yet attentively at the doctor/scientist's side, just as Pietro had told him to when first they had set off.
[[Is our Hero issue finally resolved, comrade Pietro?]] Alyosha asked; his adjustable scope eyes somehow being able to still convey the anxiousness he felt as he asked this.
As soon as Pietro nodded, he could see his comrade let out a sigh of relief just as The Giver let out a muffled wail of despair at the realization of her fellow Heroes apparently having been beaten. However, Pietro paid this no mind as he continued: [[I've instructed Comrade Volga to keep an eye on things near the gunboat for us while we make our way. Unfortunately, with Comrade Petto having been neutralized with the others, we're going to need to find an alternative to have our guest here keep applying her Quirk to the rest of us. I want Valera's Quirk powered up to the farthest extent it can go at all times, just in case.]]
The Giver could instinctively tell Pietro was talking about her when she saw his clouded eyes looking her way, spurring her to once more tug defiantly at her restraints, ignoring the burning pain of the already bleeding blisters on her hands, the result of having been forced to use her Quirk so continuously over the course of an entire day and night. "You evil bastard, it doesn't matter what you do, I'll never help you!]]
Ignoring her protests, Pietro once more took in Alyosha's re-constructed lab setup in this contained section of the submarine. [[You already have the bullet production line up and running again? What about our…ace in the hole?]]
Smiling at the mention of their biggest backup plan, Alyosha answered with a restrained confidence: [[Never you worry, Comrade Pietro; I made sure everything was put in place before coming down here for our departure, even with the rush we were in. The timing is all set up. On the unlikely chance something was to permanently impede us, it will activate when the time is right. One way or another, this campaign of yours will come to fruition, my friend.]]
Pietro gave a deeply heartfelt smile of appreciation in his genius comrade's confidence, digging through one of his pockets before pulling his prosthetic hand out and dropping a tiny and distinctive-looking metal key in Alyosha's hand. [[I had the ignition key for the nukes perfectly recreated by one of the others after we'd finished recruiting the town. Just in case a threat does present itself, it'll be good for us both to have the ability to deliver the fullest extent of our justice if need be.]]
BOOOM!
With a powerful metallic impact, a whole side of the submarine suddenly shook, drawing many surprised outcries from the townspeople running their stations, and brought Pietro running back out onto the command deck, just in time for one of the radar operators to call out: [[We didn't hit something, Commander! Something just plowed into us; something small but strong!]]
In these specific circumstances, Pietro didn't even need to guess just what had happened, and the thought of it has his teeth gritting and his hands clenching into trembling fists. With his once calm heart now racing with fire again, he immediately pointed to the first several of his armed soldiers with an authoritative finger. [[All of you come up top with me! Whatever is going up there, we're putting a stop to it now!]]
As they raced for the ladder leading to the hatch to the open, Pietro's mind was resolute as he thought regretfully to himself: 'It can't be, it shouldn't be possible! No number of those persistent brats could possibly give Volga this kind of trouble…surely!'
When he and his concise retinue of handy gunmen finally emerged back out into the sunlight atop the submarine tower, Pietro was immediately greeted by the sight several of the Heroes from both the hospital and Gagaringrad fighting together against Volga, who was not only no longer at his post with the now-absent gunboat, but was also currently forming a massive high-friction sphere of water around himself as a shield, while still controlling a number of massive water tendrils, vapor bullets and even ensnaring traps from the water soaking the hull at their feet. It was certainly proving enough to keep them all away from him and preoccupied with protecting themselves and each other.
However, something Pietro was quickly able to notice was that his water attacks were lacking one very specific thing: lethal aggression. They were proving to be nothing more than mere defensive mechanisms and nothing more. In fact, Volga himself wasn't even capitalizing on the distractions to obliterate the Heroes himself, like the commander had long since come to expect from him at any other time.
The sight of such lack of action, or even complete absentminded body language on Volga's part, had Pietro already seething as his voice echoed down to the battlefield below: [[Goddammit, Comrade Volga, what are you doing? You have these fools where we want them, now hurry up and destroy them! We have no more time to waste! All of you get down there and help him get rid of these pests! We must make haste!]]
Pietro's orders were immediately followed, as his select handful of armed townspeople/soldiers practically flew from the top of the tower down onto the deck; their sudden arrival not going unnoticed by the Heroes, as Tenya immediately took charge by shouting: [[BREAK OFF!]] Like that, they were all scattering and moving fast, dodging and counterattacking with their respective Quirks as best they could against all their automatic gunfire; with Tetsutetsu once more having to act as Tenya and Monoma's mobile shield, while Mina kept herself protected with her Acid Veil.
Nikolay tried to move to aid his fellows, but Volga had picked that moment to finally start moving on his own feet from within his spherical water shield, sending numerous jet streams and tendrils from his shield and the sea to keep Nikolay separated from his partners.
Nikolay tried to move in and separate the water forming Volga's barrier with a number of repeated Kinetic blasts from the knuckles attachments to his already tattered gloves, but Volga's mastery over his Quirk kept reconstituting it even faster than the young boy could break it apart.
Despite his continuous counter-attacking against Nikolay, though; the veteran ex-Hero's mind was still awhirl with countless echoes, of days long since passed, and even down to earlier in this very battle, with Nikolay's desperate emotional pleas still digging away at the depths of his already-conflicted and duty-torn brain: [[What happened to you over all these years, Uncle Volga?! You can't truly believe that real Heroes can't exist anymore, can you? What could have happened to you that would allow someone like Pietro to turn you into…this? There must still be even the smallest piece of the River Hero deep inside you somewhere, surely! I believe there is! You can't tell me there truly isn't anymore! Please, don't let that man destroy the last trace of who you once were, Uncle Volga! You were once a truly great Hero; there must be a chance that you could be again, isn't there?!]]
For so long, Volga hadn't allowed himself to even think back on his old glory days as one of the most beloved Heroes in the whole of the Soviet Bloc right alongside Tunguska and the rest of the New Bogatyrs. The years of suffering had forced him to bury every last one of those memories and sentiments deep inside, render them just as dead as his beloved comrades themselves. The discovery of his closest comrade and godson still being alive had ultimately ignited a spark of internal strife in the pit of his once withered and scarred heart that nothing was able to truly snuff out; not even Pietro's Quirk.
The confusion and pain it had started had only continued to intensify with every passing moment, regardless of what he had been able to do when ordered by his commander, but now the sheer emotional rawness evident in Nikolay's expression, body language and tone had broken down so many more of his mental and emotional barriers, that it was taking everything Volga had just to focus his Quirk enough to keep the boy and his fellow Heroes from getting too close.
The truth was that right now, Volga was being forced into an internal journey he had given up ever having the self-will to embark upon, all because of his young opponent, and there wasn't a single person here who could ever truly understand just what it was stirring within him, even as their battle raged on.
Siberia, 13 Years Ago…
No one in the New Bogatyrs knew the underground waterways all across Russia like Volga did. It was the one environment where he excelled above all others, and when it had been learned that the surprise coalition of nearly every known free Villain across the Soviet Bloc was aiming to drop their acquired nuclear cores from the local military base's missiles into the single largest source point of groundwater in the entire Siberian sub-continent, it was only natural that the underground/underwater interception approach would be left to him.
And ever since he had been forced to inform his comrades of his current inability to find a manageable passage through the bedrock to try and get to that focal point so he could stop the Villains inside from enacting their plan, his usually unshakeable professional calm had started to give way more and more to pure desperation. His ability to navigate through these countless subterranean waterways was second to none; if none of his comrades were going to be able to get there, then it was all down to him, but try as he might, there ultimately proved to be no passage big enough for him to even squeeze himself through, effectively cutting him off from the objective.
For what felt like the first time ever in his professional life, Volga had ultimately been forced to use his Quirk to try and channel the current of the water around him to build to such a continuous rotational speed, that it ultimately acted like a high-powered industrial drill; carving through even the hardest layers of rock so that he could force open a way further into the cave network.
Unfortunately, this too proved to be all for not, and nearly ended up ending Volga's life entirely, as this desperate act of his had caused the cavern walls around him to start cracking with the loss of balanced weight distribution, and ultimately come caving in before him, forcing Volga back, and no closer to helping his friends and teammates.
It had been then that he had heard over their earpieces the words that would forever haunt his memories, no matter how much he had ultimately realized there was no other option for. Tunguska needed to utilize the single most powerful use of his Quirk yet, and from the agony present in his oldest friend's voice, it was clear that the Sun of Justice already knew the risk it presented to every last one of them.
Had there been even the slightest chance that he was able to get through without triggering another and even potentially worse cave-in, Volga would have undoubtedly told Tunguska and the others to hold out for just that little bit longer. But blind arrogance was never something the River Hero allowed himself to fall victim to. He knew the limit of his approach as it now stood, and he further knew that time was increasingly not on their side. Above all else, just like every last one of the New Bogatyrs, like every Hero, he understood the need for sacrifice the profession always carried with it if things proved bad enough.
And now was proving itself more and more to be that time, the time they had all solemnly prepared themselves for from the very moment they had decided they wanted to live their lives as Heroes; defenders of the innocent and the greater good, paragons of justice, purveyors of peace, and scions of hope.
Even in this world so filled with those with Quirks, there were so few who could truly understand how it was possible for any one of the Pro Heroes there that day, including Volga himself, to be able to push Tunguska into doing what they all knew needed to be done, and not feel even a single stirring of hesitation or fear in their chests. It was the kind of display that could have inspired such Heroism and bravery in entire nations if they could understand it.
Of course Volga felt the same kind of sadness they all did once they had all finally spoken their final peace. How could anyone, even the mightiest and bravest of Heroes, not feel such a thing when knowing they were facing the ever-approaching end without being able to hug and say goodbye to their loved ones, friends and comrades one final time? After all, the New Bogatyrs were like one massive unbreakable family after all the years they had spent working together. It felt so cruel to know they were all about to die in the name of protecting their people, all while being so close and yet so far.
Being stuck in the underground cold darkness of the water made it especially tense for Volga, trying to mentally count down the seconds before the sweet embrace of oblivion would take him just as quickly as it had undoubtedly taken all the others. That was what made it all so foundation-shaking, when the nuclear-level powerful solar blast finally hit and reached down to the same depth Volga had ultimately been stuck in; the blinding light of it tearing through the blackness like it was nothing, and disintegrating the rock all around him with just as much merciless power.
The water all became super-heated seconds before the blast had even reached, with the sheer power of the current once impact had been made, proving so strong as to send Volga flying back through the passageways he had previously come down, like a dead leaf in the wake of a mighty winter storm. His mind was so overwhelmed with the weightlessness and burning pain encapsulating his entire body in those few brief yet prolonged moments, he couldn't even process the sheer force of the impacts his body made with the passage walls and dividing walls of the forks he'd taken along the way, before those unbreakable stones were just as quickly reduced to dust by the power of Tunguska's Solar Flare, moving ever outward after Volga's listless body as though it were deliberately trying to chase after him, even as the current somehow managed to start going even faster. By then, Volga had already long since lost consciousness from the unimaginable pain.
It was almost akin to the sensation of being born again when Volga had finally regained consciousness. His mind and senses had been so awash in the idea of his body being obliterated with the rest of the cave system, that to go through the sensation of actually waking up in a physical body again felt completely unreal, and that was all before he was even able to see anything about his surroundings.
To instinctively breathe was a labor in and of itself, and no matter how much his brain was commanding his body to move, he couldn't even tell if he could or not, still slowly regaining the sensation of physical control in the first place.
[[Papa, papa, he's waking up!]] [[Calm down, children, go to your mother! I'll handle this.]]
The voices of small children and an especially rough-sounding rural man's voice all sounded like the stirrings of echoes from deep underwater, as Volga struggled to open his eyes, only for the blinding light of day to force them closed once again. By now he was finally able to start feeling his muscles again, but his body not only felt unnaturally stiff, but every move brought with it a sharp flare of pain through his entire being. To even cry out in reaction brought a pain of its own, as though Volga's vocal cords had been left as dry as the desert.
The more pain he was in, the more he instinctively tried to struggle against it, desperate to move and figure out just what the hell was going on. Before he could try any further, however, he felt the sensation of a gruff pair of hands gripping his shoulders just firmly enough to keep him from thrashing about. [[Try to stay still, my friend. You're in very bad shape right now; we don't want to risk you reopening any of your injuries. Here, drink some of this.]]
Whoever was finally speaking to him clearly enough for Volga to hear, clearly had a good position over him, as he was managing to keep the River Hero still even while his mind was still in the throes of panic and wanting to get out from wherever he was. Before he could even try again to speak as to asking where he was, Volga could feel the rim of a bottle beginning to grace his lips, and with the pain of his bone dry throat, he immediately accepted what was being offered. The inside of his body was immediately soothed by the cold taste of water running down his throat, allowing his vocal cords to finally start to recover.
Alongside that, the light was finally starting to dim enough for Volga to try opening his eyes for more than a second. It was all still a blur, but with time, and a few more sips of water, it was all finally starting to clear. With his sight, Volga was starting to regain yet more of his senses. Besides the voice of the mysterious man attending him, and the nearby nervous whispers of children and a woman; Volga could also hear the nearby sounds of livestock, along with the chirping of insects from the distance. As soon as his sense of smell returned, he was hit by the smells of hay, water and fertilizer from all around. With the accompanying sounds of livestock, and the distinctly rural drawl to the man's voice, it quickly became apparent that Volga was currently in some kind of farm.
This all became too clear once his vision had finally cleared up enough for Volga to find himself staring up at the roof of a rather old-looking barn, then finally looking down to see an older man with a dirty graying beard and worn out clothes kneeling over him, with a pair of light-haired children in similarly old clothes accompanied by a middle-aged woman in modest country clothes and light hair standing cautiously in the half-open doorway, through which Volga could just start to make out what looked like a crop.
Noticing how the Hero was urgently taking in his surroundings, the old farmer kept a firm grip on his shoulders. [[I said try not to move too much, my friend. You're still very badly hurt, but you can rest assured, you're in good hands here. The way things have been around here for the last week, I feel confident saying that most people wouldn't have been nearly so charitable.]]
Volga could tell the man wasn't being threatening, but distressingly genuine in his sentiment. As Volga finally gave up and laid his head back; the pain over all of his body thankfully starting to dim at least a little bit, he took in a deep and calming breath, infinitely grateful that the water apparatus around his neck was clearly still intact, otherwise he doubtless would have died a long time ago.
Of course, even with that realization, came the unbearable need to know, as his cracking voice finally emanated: [[Where…where am I? How…how did…how did I get here? How am I still…alive right now?]]
The farmer exchanged a visibly troubled glance with his children and wife, removing the beaten brown mariner's cap from his head as he looked Volga in the eye, ultimately motioning towards his three family members as he went: [[I can only really answer your questions one at a time, my friend, so I ask that you please be patient with us. In regards to where you are, you're on our humble little farm in Krasnoyarsk Krai. There's…quite a lot for me to unravel for you. How about we start with introductions? I'm Imran Kirilovich Zoltavsky; and this is my wife Anya, my daughter Yulia, and my son Vanya.
[[You've been out for quite some time, a little over a week from the day we found you on our way back from the nearest village. We found you unconscious by a known geyser vent a little ways from here, and that's about all I can say as to how you got here to our farm. Before that, I can't rightly say.]]
Right now, Volga couldn't hide the disbelief on his face if he'd tried. Had that cavern system truly thrown him this far north of where the base had been located? Or had these people truly traveled that far and stumbled upon him on their way back by sheer luck? There were only so many more questions he found himself desperate to know the answer to with every moment he thought about it.
[[We should all consider ourselves lucky we didn't find you anywhere near the site of that blast back then, stranger. None of us would even be here to have this conversation if we were.]] The mother of the family, Anya suddenly spoke up, clearly sounding very shaken by the thought; spurring Volga to try and lift his head to look her in the eye, only for her husband, Imran to once again motion him to lie down.
Nevertheless, Volga couldn't possibly stay silent: [[What do you mean 'blast'? What exactly happened?]]
He could see all four of his surprise hosts' expressions dim as Imran answered: [[The radio, internet and the television have been going non-stop about it to this day. The New Bogatyrs embarked on a major mission down south to fight a whole bunch of Villains with nukes at an old army base down that way. The way they've been spinning it, things got really bad, and Tunguska…he used the biggest attack anyone has ever seen to stop them.
[[We could feel the shock waves of it all the way out here two days drive away, and the light; good God in Heaven, it was like the sun itself had crash landed down there. The media's already been going mad about it, calling it the Siberian Flash and such. It caused all the groundwater to superheat and erupt from every geyser around for a thousand kilometers as well. That, er…that likely explains why we found you where we did.]]
To have his momentary suspicions of how he was still alive be proven should have normally been a relief for Volga. And with that also came the hope-inspiring idea that, if he had somehow managed to miraculously survive, being as close to the epicenter as he had been, then there was a distinct possibility for at least one more of his comrades. [[Please…the others…has the news…said anything…about survivors?]]
To now have this idea running in his head, as well as to now know even a bit of the damage Tunguska's desperate action had wrought, had left Volga only that much more anxious to try and get back to the scene of the battle, only for his body to continue resisting his commands to move, once more prompting Imran to hold him down. [[For the last time, I need you to not move. There's no use beating around the bush anymore; we know who you are: you're the River Hero, Volga. With that fancy water-breathing device on your neck in every picture there is of you, how could anyone mistake you for anyone else? I'm sorry you had to learn this way. Clearly, Tunguska's final move did a serious number on you by the time we'd found you. You were really touch-and-go for a while as we tried to treat your wounds, and even after we'd done what we could. Unfortunately…not all of your body was able to be saved.]]
The sheer regret in his voice was making the anxiety in Volga's heart far too much to bear. Gritting his teeth and fighting to lift his upper body against his caretaker's hands, the River Hero finally was able to see down his body, only to be met by a sight that sucked away all the energy he'd been feeling build up inside him, and made his blood go cold.
His entire body was practically mummified in visibly messy-looking gauze; not messy with blood, but that and an assortment of sickly yellow colors as well, the kind that one typically only ever saw on severe burn victims. And this in itself paled in comparison to the vomit-inducing sight of both his arms and legs having been amputated and heavily bandaged at his thighs and shoulders altogether.
Imran could see the horror apparent on Volga's face as he took in the true scope of his injuries, and the pitiful state it now left him in, bedridden in an old barn with no means of being able to move or do anything for himself. His willingness to step in to try and be there for his family's unexpected visitor was admirable. [[You needn't worry, Volga. You should right now consider yourself lucky. I know my way around machines, believe it or not. I'll admit it was a big gamble, working while unsure if you would ever even wake up again, but just for this very circumstance, I've been hard at work in my spare time crafting some functional mechanical replacements for you when your injuries heal considerably more. We're not going to allow you to suffer this kind of indignity a minute longer than you have to, I assure you.]]
These reassurances on Imran's part, unfortunately, gave no comfort, as Volga's mind was already rushing back to his previous question, only now with none of the previous hope attached to it: [[Please…my comrades…did they say if there were any survivors at the scene?]]
All fell silent for far too long, and that ultimately told Volga everything he didn't want to hear long before Imran had finally given his answer: [[The media told us everything the authorities had to tell them in turn at the scene. There hasn't been a single trace of a single one of the other New Bogatyrs at the scene…just charred bodies, and that was what was left of the lucky ones, they've been saying. I'm truly sorry, Volga; everyone is. This whole Bloc has lost all its greatest Heroes right when we needed them most.]]
GRRRRRRM!
Before Volga could even think of asking just what on earth Imran meant; a faint but quickly growing rumbling began to echo across the air, with the very ground beneath them all starting to tremble, shake and roll with sudden alarming force, drawing numerous terrified screams from the children and their mother, and sending the livestock into a similar panic, while Volga was left completely helpless to try and do anything to protect himself, let alone his hosts.
Thankfully, the sudden earthquake came to a stop just as quickly as it had come, and while the animals all around were still freaking out, Imran looked to be the one fully in control, as he managed to systematically calm his livestock and his family alike.
As the farm patriarch continued to attend to his animals, Volga couldn't help but ask: [[When did earthquakes suddenly start happening in this part of Siberia? That's never happened before in all my years, or the years before.]]
Anya kept holding her children close as she tried to calm her breathing enough to answer the crippled Hero's inquiry: [[It's been happening ever since that Siberian Flash the news has been talking about that resulted from your last mission. Scientists are saying it reached down so deep that it severely damaged and unsettled a major network of fault lines deep beneath. There have been reports continuously coming in through the news of quakes in all kinds of different areas around the Bloc that never suffered them before, alongside tidal waves and volcanic eruptions as well.
[[Without the New Bogatyrs around to try and help save people, the news has been talking about death tolls in the hundreds all over the place. The army, the police and the emergency rescue forces have been apparently stretched far too thin to try and save the people they could in the affected areas as it is. But for parts as far removed as ours…well, we've all but convinced ourselves that they won't come for us any time soon. Thankfully the mountain ranges in this area have helped to mitigate the potential damage for us and a few of our neighbors. Even the nearest town, while damaged, hasn't been hit as hard as some places we know of. That doesn't make the regularity of such things any less frightening, of course.]]
Volga had long since tuned himself out from the mother's explanations, however, for his mind was a cacophony of agonizing wails at the news of every single one of his comrades truly being dead, and the disastrous state their country was now left in, while all he could do was lie here like a vegetable with no means of informing the government in Moscow of his survival.
Then, with the thought of Tunguska naturally came the mind of Gamayun and their child, his appointed godson Nikolay. If the news was truly correct, and every last one of the New Bogatyrs was gone forever, then what of the boy? He was barely more than two years old at this point, and last left with grandparents near Irkutsk, if Volga's memory was still serving him right. If the damage was truly as widespread and cataclysmic as Anya was describing, then that boy would undoubtedly have been just near enough the epicenter to have gotten wiped out as well.
Of course, there was no way of knowing for certain, but right now the River Hero was in far too much physical and emotional pain to think so reasonably. It was as though he were right now in the worst sensory deprivation chamber, unable to move, speak hear…or even weep. He wasn't even fighting that desire, but clearly the burn damage he had suffered down in those caverns had been enough to permanently destroy his tear ducts, leaving him unable to even express this most primal of feelings in his lowest point yet, while his host family could only watch him digest all this terrible news with the utmost sympathy.
'For a good while, my suffering had made me utterly blind to the passage of time. The days that followed simply bled into one another. No matter how often Imran and his family tended to my wounds or tried to keep me fed and hydrated, I simply couldn't bring myself to acknowledge it. It was as though the world around me were nothing more than a fever dream, with only my physical pain and emotional solitude to physically remind me that this forever broken version of our Motherland was very real, and I was ultimately all alone. So many people suffering, dying with every waking moment, and every last one of my comrades and family were dead and gone. It was more often than not I'd even found myself asking God why He'd allowed me to live when so many others deserved it far more.
'After a good several days of asking this question and receiving no answer, and several days of simply listening to the radio Imran put in that barn for me talking of just how mercilessly under-manned all emergency rescue services and authorities were to maintain peace and order without our help, and just how many people were dying and begging for us to come and save them…the pain had ultimately become too much even for me to bear. For the first time in my entire life, I had well and truly given up, and had thus decided to try and go out on what terms I honestly had left. Unfortunately, my hosts had proven far more perceptive than I had ever given them credit for from within the throes of my grief.'
It had been early that particular day when, upon seeing the sun rise upon yet another day in this now-especially empty-feeling world, that Volga's once indomitable spirit had at long last vanished, leaving only a miserable and twisted mockery of his former self sitting alone in that barn, never even speaking to Imran or his family when they had dropped by to once again give him his morning meal and water, as well as the changing of his bandages. As much as they said his wounds looked to be healing, it did nothing for the wounds that continued to tear further and further open inside him.
It was only by sheer luck (or lack of it, depending on who was asked), that Imran had decided to look back into the barn to try and speak to Volga again once they'd left, just in time to find the fallen River Hero spontaneously decide to take his leave by trying with all his might to bite off his own tongue. It took a great deal of struggling and a particularly nasty bite injury to his callused hands, but Imran and Anya together had ultimately managed to tie a gag around Volga's mouth to keep him from trying such a thing again.
The rest of the day unfortunately hadn't gone any smoother, as Volga's violent reactions to being interrupted in his attempted suicide, had necessitated Imran being taken to the nearest hospital in the only reachable town, but with their workload being what it was, it also necessitated the two adults leaving their children, Yulia and Vanya, to attend to the crops and the other chores in their stead; all while Volga was simply left to wallow to himself, now unable to even speak if he wanted to, while the hours passed by so painfully slow.
It had already long since been nightfall by the time the two adults had finally returned. Volga had already resigned himself to having effectively cut off what little tie there was between himself and his hosts as a result of his impulsive actions. Hence why it had stricken him with such surprise when the two children had returned to the barn not much later, with his typical dinner in hand.
It wouldn't have surprised him at all if his actions that morning had made the two children fearful of being around him, undoubtedly thinking he had finally lost his mind from the pain. After all, over the last few days when it had come time for changing his bandages, they had even asked him if the pain ever stopped. It never did, externally or internally.
Yet, they showed no sign of fear at all as Yulia continued trying to spoon feed him, and Vanya kept trying to get him to drink water. Eventually, Volga's myriad of regrets and sadness finally caused him to speak out in protest for the first time that entire day: [[Just stop, would you? Why do you insist on doting on me? Doesn't anyone have the good graces to know when someone just wants to die? You have no obligation to keep trying, none of you do!]]
Naturally, the volume of his outburst momentarily startled the children, and he wouldn't have been surprised if it had even been enough to get their parents' attention and bring them running. Yet, the childrens' empathy and determination both visibly came through, as they refused to leave his side, with Vanya finally asking: [[But why would you wanna die, Volga? That's…that's giving up, and Heroes aren't supposed to ever give up, right?]]
In what felt like a different life, such childlike admiration for Heroes would have touched Volga deep in his heart like nothing else. Children were the greatest treasure of any nation and culture, and to even remotely inspire them to be the best version of themselves, Quirked and Quirkless alike, was a pride like nothing else. But now, knowing just how much he and so many other people had lost; all Volga could feel was an especially biting sense of self-resentment.
[[If that's the case, then where are the Heroes the people need now? My comrades, my friends…my family, they're all gone, and the entire nation and more are all suffering without us…and all I can do is just lie here, worthless and alone. You two and your family are ultimately lucky, being situated here where the damage isn't nearly as bad…but so many others are suffering more and more with each day, crying out for us and getting no answer. We all tried to save the day like we always did…and look what it led to. To be alone like this, unable to do anything at all for anyone…this is no way for anyone to live…but especially not a Hero. I can't take another day of…of…dammit, I can't even call this 'living'! Don't you children understand? The Heroes have lost…and the people aren't going to be able to get them back. Even if those that are still studying in the Hero schools were to be sent out in force to assist in the rescue and repair efforts, it still would be far too late, and with not even remotely enough manpower to cover the entire Bloc. Things are only going to just keep getting worse.]]
[[I don't think that's true.]] Yulia suddenly chimed in, sounding unbelievably sure of herself as Volga looked at her as though she'd just willfully ignored everything he'd just said in a visceral emotional outpouring. [[I mean, you're still alive, aren't you? And you're still a Hero a lot of people love, so doesn't that mean that there are still Heroes around to help people?]]
While Volga was still trying to decide if she was ignorant or just stubborn, Vanya similarly lit up with confidence. [[Yeah, I mean, you might not be able to move around right now, but once Papa gets those mechanical limbs he's been making for you finished, you could be able to start helping people again in no time! I mean, you're Volga, the River Hero, the second most popular New Bogatyr behind Tunguska! If you survived all that crazy stuff at the Siberian Flash, then it's gotta be for a real reason, right? Papa always says that everything happens for a reason, including us finding you!]]
[[Please don't give up, Mr. Volga. We think you can still be a Hero, see? Maybe you just need to think it, too. I mean, would Tunguska ever give up if he were in your place like this?]] To say that Volga was surprised could not have done the look in his eyes justice as the two children looked to him imploringly. The only thing that immediately came to his mind was: 'What a truly incredible world it is we live in, where the simple perspective of children can break through even the thickest veil of despair. They're right, there surely must have been a reason for me to survive when no one else on the team did…and truly, if Oleg were here in my place, he wouldn't have let himself fall even this far as I have.'
[[You see, Vanya, he looks like he's brightening up more already!]] Yulia exclaimed cheerfully the moment she and her brother could both see the contemplation and genuine consideration in Volga's empathetic tone alongside her big brother's enthusiasm had left Volga utterly speechless.
There was still a deeply stubborn part of himself that wanted to continue with his just giving up…but to hear the authenticity of their hope and faith in him had likewise ignited a nostalgic ember in the pit of his chest. That inspiration that Heroes gave children was one of the things in his professional career he lived for the most…and if his example had been enough to keep these children hopeful and strong even in these hardest of times…then perhaps he could have been able to be that same kind of example for himself here as well, just as he and the rest of the New Bogatyrs had been for countless others over the years…if not simply have the roles reversed, and have their examples of how to be, be the thing that drove him forward. It did nothing to erase the pain that still tormented him deep inside…but at least now he was finally starting to feel like there was just that little bit of room to be made for hope again, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.
'Just as Yulia and Vanya tried to encourage me to do, I tried my utmost damnedest to try and keep my spirits up. Once Imran had managed to finally finish building and applying my very first prosthetic limbs, it became much easier to do so, even with the struggles I went through, trying to get used to them. The man was certainly an impressive engineer for a country farmer. On one night of exceptional openness, he even told me how he'd once tried to apply for one of the Motherland's most prestigious Support Department schools, but had ultimately been turned down due to his rural backgrounds. Still, his work allowed me to move about again, and that was good enough for me.
'Of course, the benefit of having working mechanical limbs didn't help the pain of other downward turns in my inner strength, which were many in those early days, no matter how hard I tried to persevere. The healing of my injuries was slow and arduous, and in the end, the pain itself never completely went away, and was instead always scratching away at the back of my mind. Fortunately, my hosts were always there to attend to me at the drop of a hat. For that I was equals parts grateful and ashamed, simply because my condition had left me with so little I could do for the people of the Bloc as a whole, who were still continuing to suffer further and further as time passed and the seismic disasters caused by Tunguska's actions carried on with distressing regularity, even up in those mountains we were nestled in.
'When the news had eventually broken out that after tenuous searching of the scene around the crater that had once been that same military base where all my comrades had perished, no physical evidence had been found of Tunguska having died with them, it was the first time I had felt the same kind of hope that I had from the old days in what felt like decades. If my oldest comrade were indeed still alive somewhere, then there was a good chance that perhaps his son Nikolay was as well. Those two were essentially the only family I had left…but of course, with just the thought came a great deal of troubling questions; namely that if Tunguska was indeed still alive, then why hadn't he come looking for me alongside anyone else he would have thought to have survived, assuming he wasn't listening to the same news I had been.
'Then of course there was the last and most pertinent question: if he was alive, then why wasn't he out there trying to save the people most in need of his help? With every hour and update on the myriad disasters across the Bloc that came and went, never did I hear a single word of my brother in arms showing himself to save the day of a single person. Of course, so much of what was being said was ultimately chalked up to speculation; Imran and Anya were both very quick to remind me of this whenever the subject was brought up, but that ultimately didn't stop me from asking myself those questions every night.
'With my condition being what it was, even as I was able to move more and more with each passing day, enough so that I was at least able to start doing my part in helping around the farm in repayment of their hospitality and care, it still wasn't enough overall for me to go back into the field of active Hero work, much to a chagrin within me that I could never adequately describe. It was taking long enough for me to try and be able to regain control of my Quirk through limbs of metal and wiring as it was; I would honestly be lucky to not fall flat on my face the moment I showed myself to the public in the near future. Although, with Yulia and Vanya constantly cheering me on to get back up and keep trying, it made the pain of my failures gradually hurt less and less. Truly, those two were the biggest lights of hope that carried me through the darkness of those trying times.
'But for every bright light, there always comes a wind that threatens to snuff it out. It was often said that even something as simple as a personal fulfilling task can make the time go by so much faster. I had honestly never paid such sentiments too much mind, until the days I had spent with that family. Before I had known it, the days had turned into weeks, the weeks had turned into months, and by the time Imran had managed to make me some slightly more articulated prosthetics, it had already been near an entire year since the day I had first woken up in their care. It was nothing short of astonishing…and with time, heartbreaking.
'By that time, the quakes and other seismic anomalies had finally managed to quell, but the much longer-term damage had already been done. In the government's efforts to try and rebuild the damages and repay those that had lost loved ones in the aftermath of the Siberian Flash, the entirety of the Soviet Union had bled itself financially dry, leaving every nation under its banner in the wake of complete bankruptcy. In no time at all, the people that were left wouldn't even be able to afford to pay for the roofs over their heads, nor the food on their tables to feed their children. This was a situation that even Heroes couldn't possibly be able to contend against, and that made the anguish we all felt when listening to the news in those days all the more palpable.
'And that was when we started hearing the initially quiet mutterings of anger and discontent over the air waves, talking about how now that the dust had settled, it was time for the people to start figuring out who or what was the most directly responsible for the Siberian Flash and the complete societal upheaval it had caused. It of course didn't take long for that very question to gain more and more traction with every passing day, along with the loudest voices giving their answer: Quirks. In the eyes of a distressingly growing number of people, they believed that people with Quirks as a whole, Hero and Villain alike, were the ones responsible, because we had been allowed to simply run free and abuse our powers, essentially playing God.
'With those declarations came the demonstrations, riots and eventual organization into an actual political entity, aiming to rebuild society across the now dissolved Bloc, and make it so self-sufficient that it would no longer require the presence of those with Quirks to protect its interests or protect its borders. As far as they were concerned, those with Quirks were nothing more than a time bomb for even greater disaster simply waiting to go off, and soon after came the growing and deafening sentiment that if nothing was done about the people within those borders that possessed Quirks soon, then the sooner would pure cataclysm and apocalyptic devastation come.
'Every day, the more those angry voices began to spread across the radio, the internet and the news, the more I could see the light in Yulia and Vanya's eyes dim. They had kept trying to keep me going with their belief that I had survived for a greater reason. To see their hope gradually becoming the less popular and more scorned viewpoint was clearly a very disheartening fact of reality for them. God bless Imran and Anya for always trying to remind them that these were simply people being driven solely by their emotions instead of reason. I had to remind them of this myself more than a few times, even though I desperately needed to hold onto it myself.
'Of course, by the time that now-organized party of Anti-Quirk sentiment had ended up winning the desperately put together election and established themselves as the predominant voice of the newly rebuilt Russian government, the writing was already clearly on the wall. In virtually no time at all, people with Quirks were required to register themselves, then came the complete dismantling of every government bureau directed towards the organization and designation of Heroes across the Bloc, and the tearing down of every Hero school in every member country.
'And like the most stomach-turning example of history repeating itself, reports became more and more commonplace, of either officially sanctioned military teams or local volunteer bands travelling from city to city, town to town, village to village to round up all those registered citizens with Quirks, and hauling them away for either deportation, imprisonment…or worse. Given how volatile some of the sentiment Imran had described coming from some people in the nearest town a month after the elections, I had to accept the fact that most of these cases were ending in the latter.
'Soon, the noise of their angry voices over the media had become the norm in Russia; a realization that had nearly dimmed my long-fought-to-regain spirits like a flash in the night. However, even despite that, never once did the four of my hosts ever look upon me with a distrustful, suspicious or hateful eye. They still treated and accepted me as one of their own…and in a way, I had come to view them the same way. The New Bogatyrs had essentially been my family away from my original home for years and years…and in the pain of having lost so many of them, these humble Quirkless farmers had managed to find a place within my once embittered heart that I had once believed never could have been filled again.
'No matter how much the rest of the country would tear itself apart in the process of these veritable witch hunts, I would stand by my new family and protect them from anything and everything, no matter what would happen. That was my solemn vow in those darkest of days, and I knew they all knew it too, and I felt the greatest confidence that they felt the same way for me.
'For the longest time once I had managed to regain even half of my original mobility, I had always carried with me the deep desire to try and find Tunguska and potentially Nikolay in the wake of the madness that had taken over our Motherland…but when he had officially been named the single most wanted individual in all of the Bloc for his role in the Siberian Flash, and more and more time passed that he still hadn't been found, by then I had no choice but to come to the conclusion that if he was indeed not dead yet, and perhaps even had Nikolay with him wherever he was, then he surely had to have run somewhere beyond the Bloc for both their sake. I could have only hoped for it, though my bitter skepticism continuously warned me away from setting myself up for too much expectation. Besides, my new family would always need me to get through the tougher times ahead, and I was more than ready to step up to that challenge for all of them.
'Fortunately, with my original costume's headgear having managed to obscure the majority of my face back in my heyday, it made it easier for me to be able to help mingle alongside my hosts with the people in that same nearby town even this far into the political paradigm shift. All I needed was a thick turtleneck to hide the water apparatus on my neck, and simply say my blue hair was dyed, and that was all anybody ever needed to be convinced I was just like them. It made going out in public to get whatever supplies we needed to maintain the farm thankfully easier.
'At least, that was until the day we needed to get some metal pipes for our irrigation system that had gotten worn down over the course of the previous winter; which just happened to be the very same day of a major bit of maintenance work on a nearby station for a local oil pipeline that ran near the town; maintenance work that had ultimately resulted in a malfunction that led to a colossal explosion and fire that threatened to engulf the entire town if it wasn't cut off.
'With the firefighting services currently out dealing with a forest fire nearby, and all the local wells too scattered and ill-stocked to form a proper bucket brigade, I knew that all those people would have died down to the last man, woman and child if nothing were done…and thus the time had finally come for me to fulfill the elusive reason for which I had survived the Siberian Flash. For the first time in over two years, I had focused and channeled my Quirk to the fullest extent I could, pulling all of the groundwater from the wells and the ground below, even the nearby river, and used it all to douse the fires long enough for someone to finally cut off the flow of oil in those pipes in order to stop fueling it.
'It was a truly exhausting strain on my part after having been out of practice for so long, but I would be damned if I were to say it didn't feel incredibly fulfilling, knowing that even after I had let myself fall so deep into what seemed an inescapable despair, I had still managed to summon up the strength and courage to save this entire town. Even when everyone there looked at me like some kind of apparition, as though they couldn't believe just who was standing before them in that moment, I simply felt too accomplished in the lives I had helped save to have let it bother me. In its own way, it had helped me to feel like my old self again.
'In the circumstances enveloping the whole nation, I should've lambasted myself as a naïve fool for thinking so carefree after what I'd done. But after one of the same townspeople there had come all the way to the farm that same night to tell us that they and several other citizens had agreed not to tell anyone outside the town of my existence among them, despite how shaken the discovery made many of them in wake of everything else that was going on and spreading; it was hard not to feel just that much more secure with my new family, which honestly had started to feel like it was slowly growing now that the town knew.
'If only I had listened to the twisting sensation in the pit of my gut, to take the hint and leave the area right then and there…perhaps things would have turned out for the better for all of us then.
It had been nearly five days since the messenger from town had informed Volga and his new family of what a good number of the townspeople had decided to do. The Hero's apprehension had never truly faded, but his alertness had only finally started to wane, giving way to a trust that things were settling into place, and he could soon finally go back to pretending to be just like everyone else until the next potential crisis would rear its ugly head. It always tended to in his experience before.
And today, that had ultimately proven true, as well into the early evening that day, after working so hard together to repair the barn roof after the recent rainstorm, and finally repairing the irrigation system for the crops; the usual quiet tranquility of their humble little patch of land had started to be replaced by a distant yet growing thunderous roar from further up the only road leading in.
Needless to say, such an unusual phenomenon had the rural family visibly nervous, and Volga could honestly say he was feeling the same, instinctively pulling the collar to his shirt up over his neck to hide the water-breathing apparatus for his gills as he refused to take his eyes off the horizon.
Finally, the farm found itself being approached by a fast-moving and heavily armored convoy of four distinctly military vehicles; all bearing an insignia that was new, but they had all been hearing the name of quite often in the days since the Anti-Quirk government had come into power: The Anti-Quirk Armament and Mobilization Bureau; a military branch dedicated solely to the development and distribution of means for law enforcement and army personnel to properly protect themselves against hostiles with Quirks.
Volga could already envision just what had happened that would bring a party like this to their home. Clearly the messenger from before had been wrong; someone in town had decided they simply couldn't keep their mouth shut about a Quirked person living in their midst, and now it had landed them all in a whole heap of trouble.
[[Children, get inside the house and don't come out until your father and I say.]] Anya hastily urged Yulia and Vanya towards the house, only for Imran to stretch out an objecting arm in their path. [[We can't do anything hasty right now, Anya.]]
[[He's right. They may think the kids could be gathering weapons, or even hiding other Quirked people here. We need to stay here and make sure they know we don't mean any hostilities. Right now, let's just stay calm.]]
The moment Volga instructed this of his charges, the convoy had formed a semi circle before them, and all simultaneously opened for a line of heavily armored, and even greater armed, soldier to come pouring out and form two defensive rows, front-most kneeling and rear guard standing, and all with their guns raised and pointed solely at Volga himself.
For a couple incredibly tense seconds, Volga could feel himself physically starting to brace for an immediate barrage of gunfire. It would be a close call, but he was already starting to calculate the chances of being able to use the irrigation system to bring up a shield of water to at least protect the family behind his back once the gunfire started.
That was when a single pair of noticeably calm-sounding footsteps began to sound from behind the two rows of soldiers; both splitting in the middle to make room for two men in particularly decorated military dress to step forward and stand at the forefront of this heavily armed unit. In the rear between them stood a younger middle-aged man with light blonde hair, scruffy similarly colored facial hair, and piercing eyes. Volga didn't recognize him, but truth be told, he was hardly paying attention to him, as his eyes had now been focused in disbelief upon the other man who stood closest, a familiar older face of a man with gentle blue eyes and a head of closely trimmed black graying hair, with a rugged jawline lined with a thin chin strap of similarly black graying fuzz running along it.
Unlike the rest of his especially intense-looking soldiers, this unexpected individual was actually giving a smile of genuine warmth as he removed his military cap and looked straight into the eyes of the River Hero before him, as he then finally broke the unbearable silence: [[Well now…I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, no matter how many times I've heard it by now. I honestly had convinced myself you had died alongside all the others. I had been hoping this would be the day we'd finally found Tunguska himself…but goddamn, you truly are a sight for sore eyes, old friend.]]
With that, the man clearly standing as the leader for this platoon finally stepped forward, holding out a single hand for Volga to take, even as his blue eyes kept momentarily glancing down and looking with visible impression at the crude yet effective-looking prosthetics the River Hero was now working with. All the while, Volga himself had to fight to finally find the will to answer this exceptionally accommodating man in kind, slowly but surely raising a hand to meet his: [[Pietro Dobrynich Granin…I must likewise admit I never expected to see you ever again, especially with the way I've been hearing things get all over.]]
The soldiers and the family alike couldn't help but look on in disbelief at how the two men were actually smiling and laughing with a nostalgic air between each other. However, Pietro's men were clearly far more on edge than their leader, as the blonde-haired man that had stepped forward with him suddenly called out: [[Commander Granin, what in the hell is going on here? How can you speak so casually with a damn criminal and a threat to our national security? We all have our orders, you know that!]]
Volga could see a flicker of professional intensity cross Pietro's blue eyes as he barely glanced back over his shoulder to his especially loud underling: [[I'm well aware of that, yes, Konstantin Alexandrovich. All you men hold your fire and allow me to handle this. Things don't need to turn ugly just yet.]]
When Pietro returned his gaze to Volga's; the River Hero could feel a chill run down his spine when he saw the look of clear-cut regret in them. Folding his hands behind his back, the decorated veteran finally continued: [[As you can see, the times have made my men…especially anxious. If you have indeed been listening to the news regularly, surely you can understand why.]]
Volga had to fight the urge to start balling his artificial hands into fists as he never broke eye contact. [[Yes, I can. I just never would have expected you, of all people, to actually be getting involved with these Quirk-hunts we've heard so much about, Pietro Dobrynich.]]
Even if Volga wasn't forming fists, Pietro's discerning ear couldn't possibly not notice the edge just barely tracing his words. The man clearly was mentally preparing himself for thing to get ugly, just as all his training to become a Pro Hero had intended for. Despite the nostalgic relief it gave Pietro to see his old friend not having lost his edge over all this time, it didn't make what was supposed to follow, as per his orders, any less unpleasant.
[[Look, Comrade…as much as it pains me, the fact is that things in our Motherland have changed drastically, and we've all had to make some serious adaptations in our lives in order to survive within it; in order to help everyone survive in it. We need to take any and all potential risks to our national security as seriously as possible, but that doesn't mean this has to get ugly. The locals informed us all when we first arrived here about the people…this charming family here, that have been apparently taking care of you since the Siberian Flash. They've all made it abundantly clear that these are good people, and they are unfortunately in very short supply these days.
[[I'm asking you as a friend and as a sworn protector of the Russian people, Volga: don't fight us, and just give yourself up willingly. I can promise you that it will make things go by much more gently for all of them. You need not worry about what could potentially happen to them ever again. You know you can trust me on this.]]
It was only through the good grace of their long history with each other, that Volga wasn't immediately fighting back. Pietro Dobrynich Granin had often proved himself to be a man worthy of trust, especially between himself and Tunguska, since the three had gone through military training together in their youths, and had even worked together a few times on more drastic missions before.
But that was a whole other lifetime ago, and Volga knew the world he'd once fought so hard for was changing drastically; it would not simply welcome him back with open arms. There was truly no knowing for certain what would be waiting for him at the end of the line if he let these men take him willingly, but the results of his fighting back would undoubtedly be ugly, and Pietro was right: he didn't want to bring that down on his family here.
Looking back their way, they could all clearly see the contemplation in his eyes, his face looking as though he were actually about to ask them not to say anything and to simply let things play out as he was envisioning they would.
However, they clearly didn't look nearly as considerate of Pietro's offer, especially the children, as Yulia and Vanya both suddenly came running up and clutched tight onto Volga's legs, both already long since past the point of crying. [[No! We don't want you to go! Please don't leave us, Volga!]] [[Yeah, you're one of us, remember? You're our friend! Friends and families are supposed to stick together!]]
The two children breaking the unbearable silence finally spurred their parents to run up and join them at Volga's sides as well, with Anya looking to Pietro and his soldiers imploringly: [[Please, is there truly no other way this can go? Volga has been nothing but a friend to us in the time we've known him. We know how things have changed, but are you all truly so heartless as to ignore your own countrymen's pleas?]]
Imran was admirable in how he tried to remain emotionally steadfast as he addressed the soldiers. [[We're not so selfish as to ignore the pain and suffering that's been going on across our Motherland. We know the way things have become in the name of national security and the safety of our people. But Volga isn't a monster like the media has been saying about Quirks. He's only ever been a kind and helpful soul to us and our neighbors. Does that truly mean nothing to any of you anymore? Hasn't there been enough pain already? Heroes are supposed to represent the presence of hope in even our darkest times; would you all truly be willing to let that hope die like this? Are we to really settle for living in a world where people are met with death for their good deeds, simply because of the circumstances of their birth? Have we truly regressed that much?]]
Imran had already started to step forward past his family to Pietro and his platoon. However, despite the genuine imploring emotion in his aged voice, not a single one of them showed a willingness to even lower their guns, let alone take their fingers off the trigger. In fact, the moment his beseeching had come to a stop, one of the soldiers immediately spat back: [[You don't know the first thing you're talking about, talking about pain and suffering, old man! You people have been too well off in these parts compared to the rest of us! You haven't seen the kind of anguish and destruction we have over these last two years!]] [[Damn right, it doesn't make a difference if it's Heroes or Villains; the fact is we didn't know this kind of desolation before Quirks became a thing! They're just a series of inhuman disasters just waiting to happen, and we need to tear out those disasters by the root before they destroy all of us!]]
[[Yes! Now get your family out of the damn way, or stand trial for sheltering a wanted fugitive! Make the smart choice here!]] More and more of the soldiers were beginning to echo this very same sentiment, and Imran, Volga and Pietro could all clearly tell this confrontation was clearly a powder keg on the verge of exploding if someone didn't do the right thing quick.
As such, Volga placed his hands upon Yulia and Vanya's shoulders, prompting them to look up into his eyes as he gave them the faintest smile. [[You both gave me something to hold onto when I felt I'd lost everything. For that I can't ever thank you and your parents enough. You said I survived for a reason…perhaps saving the town and helping you all was that reason. Now at least let me do this one last thing to protect you all, all right?]]
Unfortunately, they were proving much more persistent in their unwillingness to let him sacrifice himself than even he had expected, as Yulia immediately took off sprinting for the house, and for what, Volga didn't even need to guess, which was what scared him the most as she screamed: [[NO! I WON'T LET THEM TAKE YOU FROM US! WE LOVE YOU, VOLGA!]]
Unfortunately, the tensions between everyone here had already become so high, that the sudden interjection of the girl screaming, and Volga instinctively running after her, had spurred one of the nearest soldiers to automatically level his gun in their direction; a change that Pietro and Imran both noticed, but as Pietro was screaming for his men to hold their fire, Imran was just that much closer, and the sight of a gun being aimed at one of his children had immediately launched him into a mad dash to try and stop the young recruit from opening fire, throwing himself forward with all his momentum and mass.
K-KRAK!
[[PAPA!]]
The crack of the rifle shot was met with Vanya and Anya both screaming in horror, as their father and husband had thrown himself directly into the line of fire just at the moment the soldier had squeezed the trigger, ultimately taking that high-caliber round point blank through his chest. The old farmer was now lying like a crumpled sack of potatoes before the visibly shocked soldier's feet, a pool of blood already collecting around his motionless form, while Volga could only hear the sounds around him like he was once again in a sensory deprivation chamber.
The screams of Anya and the children all echoed incoherently around him as he saw his host lying lifelessly as he was. Pietro was currently in the middle of smacking his trigger-happy subordinate across the face for his terrible trigger discipline, but none of that made a difference. The fact he had just witnessed such a senseless loss of life between his own countrymen had ignited a furious fire within his veins as his eyes lifted to meet the entirety of the military unit before him.
It was almost as though his Quirk were taking control away from his ability to reason, as all he could do was focus his hold upon the water systems all around the farm; his mechanical hands now finally balling into fists, which was soon echoed by the sound of multiple steel pipes grinding and bending all around them, drawing many frightened and confused murmurings from the soldiers as they looked all around.
Pietro, however, could visibly tell what was happening, and as such hurriedly tried to rush into the center of the gathering, arms extended as he started screaming to any and everyone who would listen: [[EVERYONE STOP THIS, PLEASE! HOLD YOUR FIRE! VOLGA, PLEASE TRY TO CALM DOWN, THIS WAS AN UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENT!]]
PSSSH! BWOOOOSH!
But it was already far too late. All Volga could think to himself was that Imran had done nothing remotely wrong, and yet had still lost his life for it. There was no justification for such cruelty in the world. It was the very same kind of righteous anger he'd always felt when learning of the casualties that had been inflicted by Villains in the old days. This was no different. As far as the River Hero was concerned, he was simply looking upon Villains of a different yet more dangerous breed, the kind that utilized their power upon society to reflect their wills of hate and violence, rather than simply frightened young men driven solely by their emotions of loss, sadness, fear and anger.
As the water pipes all across the farmland exploded, and a mighty rainfall from high above came down upon the whole gathering, Volga's mastery over the furthest extensions of his Quirk had come back in full force, as with the utmost focus, he quickly turned all of those rain drops and puddles into lethal weapons, raining down like bullets upon the soldiers unfortunate enough to still be standing in the open, while others ran for the nearest cover that could even withstand the barrage, and tried to return fire.
The air was nothing but gunfire, screams and the roar of water. But none of this could even register in Volga's brain. By now, all he could feel was the fire in his veins, all he could see was red. He'd well and truly lost control over his emotions after seeing one of his new family die like Imran had, and as such he had lost all true control over his Quirk as a result.
There was no way for him to tell how much time had passed by the time he'd finally somehow come back to his senses. In the end, however, that made no difference to Volga, for the very first thing he'd been met with once his vision had cleared, was something that would be forever seared into his brain for the rest of his life.
Every one of the military vehicles had been rendered either a flaming husk, or a bullet hole-riddled shell, but clearly at least one of the soldiers had somehow managed to gain control of one in the madness, as the farmhouse had been shelled into a flaming pile of timber, and the crops had been bombed to hell and back.
There were a great number of dead soldiers scattered about, with only a handful of them still moving, either gravely injured, or having just gotten astronomically lucky with whatever cover they had found. Many of the dead looked like they'd either been riddled with bullets, or slashed to ribbons. Others looked as though they'd been drowned right where they stood, just from the sheer looks of helpless horror on their faces.
However, none of this remotely measured up to the agony that Volga felt when he finally looked back to check and see if the rest of his host family had somehow proven alright as well. What he saw made his vision once again go blind, but this time with the tears of an anguish that now far too many people in this country could relate to.
Somehow, someway, amid all of the chaos that had ensued; Anya, Vanya and Yulia had all gotten caught in the crossfire of it all, and now laid lifeless, scattered from one another in what had to have been a desperate bid to get to somewhere safe. It looked as though they had all been shot, but from where Volga stood, it was impossible to tell if they had been gunned down by the soldiers…or if, God and all the heavens forbid, he had somehow caused it from within the blindness of his rage.
It made no difference in the end, however. With every step Volga took towards their lifeless bodies, it felt as though he were being progressively sucked further and further into the cold and unforgiving depths of the earth beneath his feet. His heart plummeted and shattered from deep within his chest, and every last ounce of willpower and hard-won hope he had tried to hold onto had all been snuffed out.
In his effort to try and protect his family, he had lost them all over again, and now found himself once again well and truly alone in a world without hope anywhere to be found, a world that not only no longer cared, but actively wanted him dead. And in that moment, as he fell to his mechanical knees and sobbed and wailed uncontrollably to the skies above, death was the only thing Volga found himself craving, all over again. Had it come raining down upon him in that moment, he would have gladly accepted it with a smile on his tear-stricken and bloodied face.
So deep was he lost in his sorrow, he didn't even hear the sound of Pietro's footsteps slowly but cautiously approaching him from behind. The commander of this now greatly lessened platoon was likewise visibly bloodied, having barely managed to avoid getting killed by the explosion of one of his vehicles, but now here he stood, looking upon the shuddering and weeping form of his old friend before him.
Looking upon the slain forms of this humble farming family that had clearly cared an immense deal for the River Hero filled Pietro with an immeasurable regret of his own as he slowly began to reach for Volga's head. [[I'm so, so sorry, my friend. It was never supposed to go this way. We were simply trying to do our jobs; do what's best for the safety of the people. Don't think that I take any pleasure in this, though. I hate the fact that our people have let themselves get turned against Quirks so easily, all because of the actions of a single man…especially one we both once called our brother. Please, it's not too late for you. Just come with me, Volga.]]
K-KLIK!
Just as his fingertips were about to grace the back of Volga's low-hanging head, the distinct sound of a pistol's hammer being pulled back broke the air around the scene. Pietro visibly flinched with surprise, his hands still hovering, as he slowly turned back, and had to fight the near physical reaction of reeling back when he was met by his visibly injured blonde-haired comrade from before, aiming his Makarov pistol square at his commander's head.
Pietro gave no visible tremble, and exercised incredible willpower to not start shouting at such a sight of unbelievable insubordination. [[Lieutenant Konstantin Alexandrovich…what in the hell do you think you're doing with that weapon, aiming at your commanding officer?]]
Likewise, many of Konstantin's fellow surviving soldiers looked just as confused, with many muttering amongst each other whether the second-in-command had truly lost his mind as a result of this recent skirmish. However, Konstantin stood steadfast, never faltering his aim even slightly. His sharp eyes burned right into Pietro's as he hissed through clenched teeth: [[You're seriously asking me that? You just saw what that monster did to our boys…and you're STILL trying to play the peacemaker with him? I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, though…considering you're one of them after all.]]
PKOW!
Without even a moment's warning, Konstantin suddenly tilted his gun downward and popped of a single resounding round, drilling a dime-sized hole straight into Volga's upper back and out his left pectoral, sending his body collapsing flat to the ground alongside the rest of his fallen family. The mental and emotional anguish completely numbed the fallen Hero to the physical pain and profuse bleeding his body was now going through, but to anyone who hadn't looked upon him at the right angle, he easily would've been mistaken for being dead.
Every one of the soldiers instinctively exclaimed their shock at this complete turn of events, while Konstantin leveled his gun back at Pietro before the commander could even take a step. [[You don't take a step towards us, 'Commander' Granin. I've seen what you're capable of. I know the truth about you.]]
[[What the hell are you going on about?!]] One of the other soldiers voiced his confusion, especially when seeing a look of utter foundation-shaking horror come over Pietro's face in response to Konstantin's vague threat.
Konstantin refused to take his eyes off of Pietro as he called back to his fellow soldiers: [[I mean our commander is a Quirk-wielder just like Volga here!]]
All the soldiers fell deathly silent; half of them looking nervously between Pietro and Konstantin, while the second-in-command continued on with growing virility in his tone: [[Don't you all remember Artyom, the complete breakdown he had after our mission in Lviv? You all remember how dedicated he was to our work up until then?]]
Pietro looked visibly more and more worried with each passing moment, while the rest of the soldiers exchanged confused glances. [[Of course, but after that shit storm, how could we have blamed him for retiring?]]
To this, Konstantin violently shook his head in denial. [[No! He and I went through military training together from Day One, you all didn't know his dedication, his patriotism, like I did. Even our mission taking that kind of downward turn wouldn't have been enough to make him call it quits. No, you can thank our commander for that.]]
Once more, all confused eyes fell upon the silent and still form of Pietro, as he and Konstantin stared each other down; the upstart lieutenant's gun hand as surgically still and precise with its aim as always. [[I saw you go into the infirmary after that mission, and I saw and heard everything that went on in there between you two. I saw how you sank your fingers into his head, how you started talking to him with all these details of the past we both knew weren't true! And yet you got him to believe all of it like it was the actual truth, right down to telling him why he was actually retiring! You forced that decision on him and gave him a life story that was a complete lie! He wasn't stupid, but you made it like you'd completely reshaped his mind and recollection of his own life! That's not hypnosis, that's a Quirk as clear as the light of day! That's what you were just about to do to Volga before I stopped you, wasn't it?!]]
Now there were just as many accusatory looks on the soldiers' faces as there were looks of confusion, all solely placed upon Pietro, as he squared his shoulders and tried to speak out with the same kind of authority he often did to his men: [[The pressures of the job are beginning to make you paranoid, my young friend. I only convinced Artyom to retire for his own good. Whether I had a Quirk to do that with or not; is acting out of the best interest for my soldiers truly something worthy of being punished as a crime?]]
However, no matter how confident Pietro sounded in his own reason, Konstantin was just as spot-on with his counter-arguments, as though he'd been slowly but surely preparing himself for this very occasion, as he once more addressed his fellow soldiers: [[Of course it doesn't sound as serious when he words it like that, but just imagine the kind of silver tongue a Quirk like his could give him if he applied it right? How can any of us say for certain he hasn't tried using it on any one of us already when times got hard? How do we know he wouldn't one day try to use it to gain himself more power than he already has? Is any one of us truly willing to just let the time pass and see if he'd actually do it? It may not be the upfront powerful kind of Quirk we're used to dealing with, but in a much more subtle way, it could be far more dangerous than anything. That should be reason enough for us to take action!]]
To Pietro's dread, this actually seemed to be getting through to more and more of his men, as one by one he could see the barrels of their remaining guns starting to aim for him, especially when he tried to approach them and raise an objecting hand. [[Men…for God's sakes, take a moment to breathe and look at this situation reasonably! How long have we been working together, before and after the Siberian Flash? Are you all to tell me that suddenly those experiences we've had together mean nothing, after all the tight spots my leadership has managed to get you out of in one piece?]]
To this, Konstantin actually made the bold choice of stepping forward, still refusing to lower his gun all the while. [[The world we live in isn't like it was before the Flash, Commander. Before, yes, we were all soldiers united by our love for our country and our people. But nowadays, we finally know what made us weak enough for something like the Flash to happen in the first place: our complacency in the presence of Heroes and Quirks.
[[In order to remove that problem and mitigate future risks, we can't allow ourselves to be softened by sentimentality anymore. As soldiers, we are defined by our loyalty to follow our orders down to the letter…even if it means separating ourselves from those now deemed a threat. I have no doubt that if things were different, and it was I with the Quirk here, you'd be no different, and I for one wouldn't hold it against you if you did.]]
Pietro grew visibly pale as Konstantin threw his attempts at sentiment back in his face. All the while, his second-in-command was momentarily glancing past his commander to the dead farming family in front of the doorway to the barn, with Volga still lying bleeding and motionless by their side. With an especially heavy sigh, he continued: [[It is very regrettable, what happened to these people. To offer shelter and care to one who is hurt is only human nature. To grow attached to them with enough time is just as natural. But if anything, this is simply a sign as to why the rest of our nation's people need to wake up and see the way things truly are. If the Russian people hadn't let themselves grow complacent and reliant on Heroes in the first place, then perhaps a tragedy like this could've ultimately been avoided.]]
Pietro couldn't believe the sheer callousness with which Konstantin was speaking of the dead…but upon closer looking, he could also make out an unmistakable glimmer of deeply pained emotion in his once cold eyes just as well. And with that, the reasoning for this sudden shift in loyalties and attitudes within his long-time comrade suddenly made so much more sense. With a weary sigh of his own, Pietro finally answered: [[I know you can't truly believe what you're saying about these innocent people, Konstantin Alexandrovich, nor can I blame you for where your head is right now, either. I was foolish to ever think that a year's time would have been able to help heal the wounds of your own losses from the Siberian Flash. Out of any of us here, no one can deny you've lost far more. But you shouldn't let that pain completely take away who you are, the way I've always known you.
[[You have every right to be angry at God or the world for taking your family from you, but you shouldn't let that anger completely take away the faith you once had in Heroes. It's bad enough so many people have all over the place, but you're like a son to me. Every last one of you men are the family I never had. Please don't let this new world change you all into something I know you're no-]]
PKOW!
Just as Pietro had suspected, the swelling of so many agonizing and suppressed emotions in Konstantin's chest had started to break his calm and cold composure, as his gun arm was finally starting to tremble. The sound of the younger soldier trying to fight back the urge to choke and sob had instilled the commander with enough confidence to try approaching him one step at a time, slowly but steadily reaching to take the gun from his hand and unload the clip and chambered round from it, all in the hopes they could go back home and try to somehow repair things from where they now stood.
What Pietro hadn't counted on, was the steadiness with which Konstantin had been holding his Makarov this entire time, and thus why it had come so unexpectedly that he finally pulled the trigger. The single white hot round of lead came flying out and grazing along the left side of Pietro's head, tearing through flesh and bone alike along the way before ultimately flying past and planting itself in one of the wooden planks of the barn, while a brilliant dark red bloom of high-pressured blood came spraying out the side of Pietro's head. His blue eyes were as wide with disbelief and shock as dinner plates, as he looked his once trusty lieutenant in the eyes, stumbling back a couple of steps while trying to reach his hand up to the wound in his head, before his eyes ultimately rolled back and he collapsed to the mud listlessly.
Konstantin stood deathly still with his gun still raised up as his eyes stared at the empty space wherein Pietro had been standing only a couple seconds ago. When his gaze finally fell to the man's motionless body, with a pool of blood already starting to collect around his head, his gun finally fell from his trembling hand, while all the other soldiers were frozen stiff with shock and fear, too much so to even try and approach the man who now by chain of command, was their official leader.
On one hand, his previously stated sense of patriotism was trying to convince the rest of him that he had ultimately carried out his duty for the safety of the Russian people, of all the people of the former Bloc. That was something he needed to continuously affirm to himself even at this pivotal moment, in order to keep the guilt of a traitor that his other half was feeling, from completely and utterly consuming him.
[[W-what…what should we do now…commander Khodamchuk?]]
The sound of one of his few remaining comrades asking this of him, and even referring to him as such, had served as something of a grim reality check for young Konstantin Alexandrovich Khodamchuk, as he looked back down upon Pietro, Volga and the unfortunate farmers. Picking up his Makarov in a still-trembling hand and cleaning it of mud before slipping it back into his holster, he took a deep and shaky breath in a futile attempt to try and regain even a touch of his composure.
Nevertheless, he couldn't possibly leave his charges without an answer or a direction, as he tried to put on his most assured expression he could, and finally looked back to address them. [[Load our dead into one of the remaining vehicles. We'll take the ones that can still run to the nearest station. Before we depart, though…load the rest of the dead into the barn, shoot it up some, and then set the whole thing alight. None of us here will speak of what truly happened here tonight, understand? If questions are asked, we'll simply say that Volga took the family as hostages, Commander Khodamchuk rushed in to save them, and in the ensuing crossfire a gas tank was hit and burned the whole barn down, with the occupants all unable to get out in time. Quirk or not, he still served as a loyal soldier for a good many years. He deserves to be remembered for that regardless.]]
Things this night had already taken such a hideous turn, the remaining soldiers didn't have it in them to object to what Konstantin was saying, even though they all had it abundantly written in their eyes that they didn't like it, no more than their new commander himself did.
Within minutes, with the exception of the slain soldiers, all the dead had been piled up into the barn, and with a few douses from a nearby jerry can, and a discarded lighter, the whole structure erupted into flames within a matter of seconds, while Konstantin and his weary soldiers all drove off back the way they had come, none of them able to bear looking at the sight of the inferno behind them; a final painful symbol of the atrocity they themselves had caused in the name of following absolute orders.
And yet, none of them had ever stopped to look, for they would have seen, within those raging flames, the miraculous sight of a barely moving Volga, having miraculously managed to keep himself conscious despite his agonizing sorrow and physical torment; currently in the process of pulling the out cold Pietro along behind him with one mechanical hand, towards one of the farthest corners of the barn; one that he knew had a considerable dip in the dirt that actually went underneath the wall through which they could escape. Yulia and Vanya had often used it to sneak in and out in the middle of the night, it had to at least serve this one final purpose.
The speed with which the fire spread and grew was too much to allow Volga to even spare the moment he so desperately wanted to just stay with his lost family for one minute longer. He couldn't even spare the time to look back and say a final goodbye. It was yet another lost opportunity he knew would haunt and torture him for the rest of his miserable life, however long or short that might have been.
For a good few moments, it seemed what was left of his life would not be as long as he had expected, as by the time they had finally reached that dip in the ground through the wall, and Volga had managed to forcefully push Pietro halfway through, the fires had finally weakened the supports for the roof enough so that several ended up breaking, causing several other flaming boards to come raining down where Volga now found himself.
Despite trying to curl himself into a ball as much as he could once he'd gotten Pietro all the way through, it still wasn't able to save him from having a couple of those fiery wooden boards pile up on top of him; the heat burning away into his face and torso and completely dwarfing the pain of his bullet wound.
It was through sheer animalistic desperation that Volga ultimately smashed his way through the weakening barn walls; his natural will to survive and stop the pain of the flames burning away at his face and hair, forcing his Quirk to draw all the water across the ground of the farm directly to him, and dousing his entire head and torso in it, before just as quickly spilling back to the ground while Volga himself collapsed to the ground beside Pietro, wheezing with agony as his throat had been rendered so barren, dry and irreparably damaged from those few seconds on fire.
He wasn't entirely sure when the pain had caused him to black out, nor did he know how much time had passed by the time he'd finally regained his senses and woken up, still awash with agony across his torso and head. Every waking moment, it was as though he could still feel the heat of the fire peeling away at his hide, even though he knew for a fact he was no longer aflame.
By this point, the fire of the barn had long since run its course, leaving nothing more than a charred husk, with a pile of similarly charred remains still lying atop each other just within where the doorway had once stood. Even with his burns inflicting indescribable pain across his whole body, it all still paled in comparison to the anguish such a sorrowful sight filled Volga with the longer he looked upon what was left of his family and responsibility in these darkest of times.
Had anyone asked him then just what it was that had driven Volga to try and bandage the open wound across Pietro's head and drag him along behind him on a nearby abandoned cart into the woods, the former River Hero wouldn't have had an answer; only able to chalk it up to idiotic stubbornness, and perhaps only the slightest trace of pity after being semi-conscious enough to have heard how Pietro's most trusted officer had betrayed him like he had.
That was all he was able to tell himself that first day that he carried the comatose commander behind him further into the mountains, until they had eventually managed to stumble upon a decently sized cave that hadn't looked to have been inhabited by any animals.
It was as good a place as any for the two of them to rest up and figure out what the next thing to do was…or at least as far as Volga was concerned, what he was going to do next. Frankly, he had no idea how it was that Pietro was still breathing after taking the kind of shot to the head he had, no matter how shallow and strained that breathing was. Volga was never the kind of man with extensive medical knowledge, but he would have been damned if he wasn't at least going to try and treat this familiar face's injuries however he could. It ultimately had proven to be quite crude, but it was obviously effective enough so that Pietro hadn't up and died of a hemorrhage or internal bleeding after another couple of days.
If anything, Volga was simply grateful he didn't have to listen to the man speak. The solitude at least gave him time to try and process his grief…albeit to no avail.
[Apparat - Goodbye]
It wasn't until the third day within the cave that, in the dead of night, Pietro Dobrynich Granin had finally somehow regained the strength to stir back to consciousness; his head feeling especially weighed down thanks to the abundance of makeshift bandages Volga had wrapped around his head. To no one's surprise, the former military commander was clearly panicked and confused by his outlandish new surroundings, but he was still far too weak to really move around. All he was able to see was the large covering of tree branches and foliage laid out over the mouth of this humble cave in order to keep the light of the single campfire from being spotted from the outside. And on the other side of that fire, staring at the bedridden Pietro with cold and calculating eyes, was Volga himself, ignoring the pain of the bullet wound in his back and chest, and the pain of the burn scars all over his body as well; all of which he had long since forced himself into treating and bandaging personally.
[[Well, it looks like your condition is slowly improving, Pietro Dobrynich…although after what you and your people did, I can no longer say if I consider that a good thing.]] The natural acoustics of the cave made the simmering anger evident in Volga's voice that much more chilling, while Pietro was still in the middle of riding out the last of his shock enough to realize just who was with him.
However, after spending the last few days tending to his wounds and continuously rehearsing just every single word he'd wanted to say, Volga wasn't about to grant Pietro the chance to make excuses for himself. [[Don't think that just because you're still alive right now, means that we're still friends. You can blame it on my old Hero's nature, I suppose. Sensibly speaking, I should kill you right here for the bloodshed you brought with you to my home. Those people were the only family I had left. They helped me regain hope when I had lost everything else…and you and your bloodthirsty new leaders…took that hope away from me! What kind of Hero is able to exist and bring hope to others if they feel no hope themselves?!]]
The light of the campfire reflecting on the roof of the cave allowed Pietro to catch the subtle glistening movements of water creeping along it before collecting into a weightless pool right above Volga's head. Knowing just what he was capable of, Pietro had no doubt that the ex-Hero had every intention of driving that rain water from the outside straight through his head here and now.
Yet, despite clearly knowing this, Volga never saw the slightest evidence of wanting to try and fight back from Pietro at all. In fact, even through the bandages covering his face, he could see the dimness of resignation in his eyes; eyes that he realized with shock were now orange, and not simply because of the glow of the campfire; as he struggled to speak clearly: [[You won't hear any excuses from me, Volga…not anymore. If you want to kill me…I won't try and stop you. In all honesty, I had been naïve enough to think I was perhaps the only lucky one in this whole country, as I had no family to lose to begin with, other than my men. We were able to help each other through the pain of their losses as a result.
[[And yet, despite everything we had gone through over all these years…my own second-in-command turned them all against me like it meant nothing…and for what? Because I have a Quirk that might as well be nothing next to people like you and Tunguska, wherever the hell he may be hiding, if he isn't dead already?! Because of a crime against our homeland we both know neither one of us would have ever committed if given the slightest chance? I'll admit it, I wasn't able to relate to the fullest extent of the sadness and loss I saw so many people going through, no matter how much I genuinely wanted to help them…but now I can finally say I understand the anger this country has let itself become gripped with…the anger of betrayal.
[[For so long, I've given everything in my power for our country, in good times and in hard times. I was a patriot in every sense of the word; perhaps I still am. I love my country, and yet it drove the only family I had to betray me and leave me for dead like an animal on the side of the road…but now I finally see the duplicitous, divisive fiends that have taken it over while it reeled from its wounds. This country has been stolen by tyrants…and if there is any kind of justice left in this world, people like us, we could still be able to make right everything that has gone so wrong for both of us and so many more. If heaven allows it, we could one day be able to see to it that the people that have stolen our home are punished, and the good people of this land are freed from the blindfolds of unjust hatred; and those that still live out there with Quirks won't ever have to feel the need to live in paralyzing fear every single day again. We can help them to realize that they do indeed still have a home here, that they do have someone they can turn to when all hope seems lost. You speak of bringing hope? The fact that we rediscovered each other and are here, breathing and alive even now after all this time, tells me more than anything that hope is still alive and well, if we're willing to reach out and take it to give to the rest of the world.
[[But, of course…whether that will even be possible isn't up to me…not anymore.]] Pietro's impassioned strained words echoed through the cave with a fervor that shouldn't have been possible for a man in the condition he was in. All the while, Volga couldn't bring himself to say anything, simply waiting and watching with those same discerning eyes as he kept his mechanical hands folded, simply waiting for the man to peter out.
As Pietro struggled to regain his breath, he finally let out an exhausted sigh, wincing with great pain at the aggravation to his head wound. [[I know I have no right to even think of suggesting any of these things after what we did to you, Volga…let alone ask you upfront. If you would rather take your revenge for our foolishness and kill me here…I'll understand. Just know that I truly never intended for things to unfold the way they did back there…and I can't begin to express enough how much I wish I deserved forgiveness for it, no matter how impossible that is.]]
Volga leaned back where he sat, sucking in a deep and intense breath through his nose as he kept replaying Pietro's sentiments in his head, each and every time debating whether or not to finish him off here, or to actually indulge him. The joints of his mechanical limbs creaked as he clenched his hands into bone-crushing fists; Pietro watching his every physical move with the utmost attention, before finally and with no warning, the water that had pooled up on the ceiling, finally dropped with a heavy splash to the floor between the two men.
As Pietro tried to gather what this meant, Volga rose up from his seat and slowly approached him with the most frightening look of restrained hate in his blue-gold eyes. [[You're right about one thing: neither of us can ever make things right between us after what you and your men brought with you…but if you truly believe we can somehow bring some kind of hope to the people in this land with Quirks…I'm willing to go on that one fragment of faith only.]]
With that, Volga returned to his spot across the fire, while Pietro's wide eyes were impossible to read, as to whether they were communicating the utmost relief, or shell shock. Regardless, Volga continued: [[Of course, being that symbol isn't going to be easy. Neither of us are in the shape we were back in our prime, and with the government that's now running things, nobody in the Bloc who has a Quirk is going to just out themselves to the first person asking for Quirked individuals to come with them. That'll much more be the case for those with the much more visible Quirk-attributed mutations.]]
Pietro could only feebly nod in agreement as his mind was already running with the potential for this infantile idea that was already taking shape before his very eyes. [[You're right…but perhaps the first and foremost solution is for us not to make the mistake of settling in any one place. We move constantly, go wherever the road takes us, scope out any potential settlement we come across for a little while, see if anyone there has a potential Quirk we can work with, and even then only approach the ones that have the most promise and visible willingness to work with us. It'll be a long and arduous process…but I know how smart and capable you are at a moment's notice, Volga. This could very well be a good first step towards us being able to bring even that little bit of light back into the world that Heroes are supposed to carry.]]
As far as Volga was concerned, even despite his reluctant willingness to go along with Pietro's suggestions, it was something to cling onto, no matter how minuscule it was. By all accounts it was a naïve and stupid plan, but he honestly had nothing to offer as an alternative, and if there was anything that would be able to help him find the strength to even remotely cope with his recent losses in a way that wouldn't spit on the memory of that humble family, then he was willing to follow through with it.
After all, if Yulia and Vanya both truly believed he was still alive, even now, for a greater reason, then in the state he was in, he was ready to take whatever purpose was being laid out before him as that very same reason at this point. For all he knew, they would both be discovered and dead within a fortnight's time. But until then, he was going to keep moving, fighting, and doing everything in his power to try and make sure the time he had left, and the power he was still able to retain, would actually mean something.
Off the Coast of Hokkaido, Japan; Present Day
In the span of what had realistically only been merely ten seconds, Nikolay's most penetrating question as to whether the River Hero truly still existed deep within the husk of the man once called Ocean Master, had forced Volga to relive memories that felt as though he were re-experiencing an entire lifetime of sadness and regret, multiplied a hundredfold with the recollection of just every single thing he and Pietro had ultimately done up until this very moment, and all under the continuous insistence of the man that what they were doing here was for the ultimate good of the people that needed it the most.
In those few seconds as his mind replayed all of this, Volga's body had seemed to become like that of a listless puppet, not even fighting against it as his Quirk went into an inhuman state of overdrive.
While all the rest of the present young Heroes were fighting tooth and nail against the armed townspeople/soldiers that Pietro had sent to intercept them; slowly but surely gaining the upper hand through sheer dogged determination and teamwork between their Quirks; the spouts, jet streams, geysers, tendrils and high-powered water droplets Volga had been fending them off with before, had all coalesced into one gigantic blitzkrieg of hydro-powered annihilation, with entire tidal waves binding around the width of the submarine in entire spiraling rings, soon rushing with the same kind of cutting power as the same rings that still wrapped around his limbs and armor within the protection of his spherical shield.
From those very same rings erupted numerous penetrating jet streams and spouts, slamming against Tetsutetsu's Iron skin and Tenya's armor like point-blank shotgun rounds, sending them both rolling and rushing back to try and get some distance between them and it, all while Nikolay still found himself standing alone against his former godfather.
At long last, in tandem with this sudden god-tier releasing of his Quirk, Volga's mind and tortured spirit came rushing back to this present moment, as he finally answered the young Russian Hero's pleas with a torturous howl of suffering and rage all at once, echoing through the torrential roar of the water all across the length of the submarine for all to hear. Every single one of the other Heroes could feel a genuine chill of fright and sadness shoot up their spines just to hear their enemy let out this incomprehensible cry.
For Nikolay, though, he wasn't even given the chance to let that sensation wash over him, as before Volga's wailing had even stopped echoing, the fallen Hero came rushing with his water sphere shield right for him like a cannonball; forcing Nikolay to bring his hands up to fire a deflecting Kinetic blast.
Volga was simply too fast, though, as the momentum and friction of his shield all came colliding into Nikolay dead-on, knocking him back right off his feet and tearing away what tatters had been left of his gloves, and lacerating the ever-loving hell out of his palms as he tried to correct himself and land back on his feet.
Volga was on the pursuit like a wild animal, though, as he kept rushing after Nikolay like a deadly water pinball, knocking Nikolay this way and that, no matter how much the boy tried to fight back with his Quirk; and all while his water bindings around the sub were continuously keeping his friends from being able to intervene, and Pietro was simply watching the proceedings with an anticipating smile.
As he continued to thrash Nikolay around and chase him all across the deck once the boy started realizing he needed distance; Volga's voice came echoing out with the same ferocity, sounding as though his mind were splitting apart at the seams with every word: [[I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE! VOLGA, OCEAN MASTER, IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE! ONE IS DEAD, AND THE OTHER NEVER TRULY EXISTED! YOU'RE NOT FIGHTING YOUR GODFATHER, A HERO OR A VILLAIN, KOLYA! HEROES AS WE KNEW THEM WERE WIPED OUT THE DAY TUNGUSKA UNLEASHED THE SIBERIAN FLASH ON US; YOU KNOW IT JUST AS WELL AS I DO! HE DESTROYED EVERYTHING PEOPLE LIKE US WERE MEANT TO UPHOLD AND PROTECT, AND NOWHERE YOU RUN TO SO YOU CAN TRY AND START OVER, IS EVER GOING TO CHANGE THAT!]]
Nikolay tried to launch himself straight up into the air, and upon reaching the apex of his jump, just as quickly fired himself right back down with both his larger tuning forks drawn and swung back, readying to channel a Vibration through them both so powerful upon impact with Volga's shield, that it would force all the water to part, and thus finally provide him with the opening to land a hit.
Unfortunately, Volga's blind emotional frenzy gave his Quirk's ability to react a superhuman speed of its own, as the moment he shot straight up after him in pursuit, he just as quickly fired out several piercing shots of water from the few sluices still working on his armor, through tiny holes he quickly formed in his water shield.
Before Nikolay could react or counter, he felt one water shot after another stab into his left side just under his arm, and another pierce into the left side of his sternum, both about the width of a pencil, but no less brutally painful. It was only through sheer reflexes and luck that he was able to fire a deflecting Kinetic Burst from his left hand at the third shot coming right for his face, causing the water to disperse just enough to be thrown off course, but not enough for at least one micro-droplet of it to slice up the Russian boy's face from an inch above his left brow all the way to the beginning of his hairline, carving a gash through the frame of his left goggle and the brim of his cap in the process, and leaving a fine bleeding trail in its wake.
Nikolay could barely focus through the pain of his arms, hands and his new wounds enough to try and correct his posture, before ultimately slamming against the steel of the submarine; struggling to get back up while Volga crashed several feet away like a liquid asteroid; his eyes still burning with fury.
[[You have no earthly idea how many people…good people, died as a result of your father, Kolya; him and the monsters that came into power because of him! People that needed hope! People that deserved to have justice delivered in their names! That's all I am anymore: not a Hero, not a Villain; just a man who's simply trying to see to it the sacrifices of countless other Quirked people like us aren't meaningless! All you brats' naïve idealistic horseshit about Heroes has no place in the real world anymore! This is the only realistic way to see to it the real Villains get what they deserve, and the people that could have one day become Heroes have their losses honored anymore!
[[You and your father were the ones who turned your backs on your inherent responsibilities to the people left behind back home! And yet you dare to call yourself a Hero, and me a Villain?! There's no telling how few of us are left back there; and you're actually going to spout ideals at me when you're the one trying to stop us from being able to help them keep the only place they have left they can call a home?!]]
As soon as Nikolay was stumbling back onto his feet, Volga could see the unmistakable fire still burning in his green eyes through the shattered lenses of his goggles, even despite the blood in his gritting teeth. There was no question that the boy still had every intention to keep on fighting; a realization that filled his friends able to actually observe their fight with hope and pride; and filled Volga and Pietro alike with a burning anger that drove the former Hero to start forming liquid spikes across his shield, just getting ready to charge him head-on and end this fight, by now seeing nothing but red.
As for Nikolay, even with as much pain as he was currently in, alongside the sadness he felt at the sight of his father's friend mentally and emotionally being so far gone; he refused to back down, instead reaffirming his grip on his two tuning forks. [[It doesn't matter how many times you try to beat me down, Uncle Volga…whether with your fists, your Quirk, or your words. I'm not giving up…I'm not letting Pietro do what he's trying to do. None of us are…because in the end, Heroes don't give up! You know that just as well as we do! I'm not giving up on fighting to stop him…and I'm not giving up on you, no matter what!]]
Nikolay's strained declaration to keep fighting echoed just as loud and clear as Volga's previous outburst, leaving the older Russian visibly stunned at the teen's persistence; especially when Nikolay actually started to slowly approach him, never once breaking eye contact.
[[I'll keep fighting you both if I have to…not because I don't want to see justice done. You're right, the people back home that have died do deserve justice…but we all know that helping Pietro commit total genocide on countless other innocent people for his own vengeful vendetta isn't any kind of justice, not by a long shot! Deep down inside, you must still remember that, Uncle Volga! I'll never know the extent of your suffering over all these years, but you can't truly believe that it was enough to make you throw aside your sense of right and wrong, can you?!]]
Nikolay had by now halfway crossed the distance between himself and Volga; and the veteran ex-Hero still wasn't attacking him despite not recalling his water spikes; a development that had all of Nikolay's friends very nervous, and Pietro visibly confused and angered at his soldier's hesitation.
All the while, Volga could now see Nikolay's lower lip beginning to tremble with emotion as his gradually softening voice began to crack. [[For as far back as I can remember, there was always even the tiniest part of me that couldn't help but admire the idea of you as a Hero, Uncle Volga, just as Tunguska did. To hear him speak of you, you were like the example of every virtue Heroes were supposed to represent all rolled into one. He loved and respected you so much, I don't think even you could ever fully know. For a single person to gain the respect and admiration of someone like Tunguska like you had…your convictions must still be there inside you, surely.]]
Volga nearly had half a mind to warn Nikolay to keep his distance the closer he came. [[Please believe me, Uncle Volga…everything I've experienced since coming here has helped me to know it's never too late, not for any one of us. You can still come back and become the River Hero again, I just know it. Yes, you've done bad things over this time, but there's always a way to get through those hurdles, there just has to be. Please…don't let Pietro destroy the idea of you by helping him do something like this. You must still know it's wrong, regardless of whoever's on the receiving end. Please.]]
BLOOSH!
Just like that, not only did the water sphere around Volga come crashing down at his feet, but so too did the torrential rings of razor sharp current constricted around the sub itself, finally granting an opening for Nikolay's friends to rush in, had it not been for the fact they were seeing their friend and the former Hero simply talking to each other; with Pietro visibly seething with confused anger at the lack of fighting on Volga's part at the same time.
Much like Nikolay himself, Volga hesitantly began to approach the boy, unable to hide the conflict on his scarred face. By the time the boy was finally within reach, Volga slowly began to reach one trembling hand his way. [[The world…the real world isn't so simple as to think you can just turn someone around with a motivational speech and bravado, Kolya. Your father thought things could work that way, and it didn't work then, either. You really think you're going to be able to turn things around, make everything back home the way it was before so Heroes will be welcomed back with open arms, all with a speech, a smile and some fancy moves? Is that it?]]
Nikolay didn't fight back once he felt the metallic grip of Volga's hand upon his shoulder, instead even reaching a hand up and holding onto it in kind as his met Volga's gaze; his eyes beginning to sting with tears. [[I know that's not how it works, Uncle Volga. The truth is that…not even a year ago…I hated the fact I had a Quirk. I hated everything having to do with them; Heroes, Villains, the whole thing. All I wanted was to just be left alone and just fade out into nothing. I thought there wasn't any place for Heroes back home any more than you do now.
[[But these other Heroes here, and so many others I've met and gotten to know since then…Uncle Volga, they're my friends; they're like family to me, just like I know the New Bogatyrs were for you and Dad. All of the people I've met here in this country, they've helped me to remember what Heroes are supposed to be for people, what they're really supposed to do. They helped me to remember why I wanted to be a Hero even so long ago. They gave me hope again…and if it's remotely possible, yes, I want to be able to give that hope back to even just one person back in Russia, just so they might know the world doesn't have to be so cold and cruel as it has been. From there, maybe they just might try to be the one to give that touch of hope back to someone else, and that they might then do the same for another and so on. Maybe, just maybe, one day down that line, people could learn to have hope for themselves and help each other again…and perhaps by some miracle, be willing to try letting those with Quirks that want to help make the world a better place come back in to try, themselves.
[[I know it's a long shot, and I might just be fooling myself…but even if all our efforts are for just a single person to maybe begin that pattern of positive change, isn't that enough to at least try for? Don't you think it would be worthwhile to try and be that hope for people again?]] Nikolay's voice had fallen and become so soft and impassioned all the same; his green eyes now reflecting Volga's emotionally shaken face in them, as the fallen Hero slowly bowed his head, thinking over everything the boy was saying…before soon he was beginning to hear Yulia and Vanya's voices echoing right alongside his godson, with all their heartfelt expressions of Heroes and the hope they brought with them. He wanted so badly to try and shake the boy out of his delusions and force him to see the reality of his circumstances…and yet at the same time, he could feel the sincerity with which Nikolay spoke, and it shook Volga down to his core.
However, all Pietro could see from atop the tower was weakness, and that was something he could no longer stay silent for: [[What the hell are you hesitating for, Volga?! These brats aren't our friends, they're our enemies! They're trying to stand in the way of our justice! You swore your loyalty to me, remember?! If you let these children and their naiveté get in your head, then all those people that died for us to get this far will have been for nothing! All the retribution and hope we were supposed to bring those left behind will be lost forever! Now follow your sworn duty, and FIGHT, DAMMIT!]]
The ferocity with which Pietro shouted across the deck stabbed into Volga's already fractured mind like a searing hot knife, and with it came a re-ignition of the fire in his blood; the memories of his long-lost family now giving way to visions of blood, screams of pain and fear, and the torment he felt when seeing them all dead.
Without warning, the water all across the deck instantly exploded and gathered around Volga and Nikolay into another colossal cyclone, completely cutting them off from the rest of his fellow Heroes, even if that didn't stop them from rushing over to try and step in and save their friend, now that the last of Pietro's handful of soldiers had been taken down.
Inside the cyclone itself, Volga's vision had gone completely red, just as his grip on Nikolay's already injured right shoulder turned into that of a vice, producing a sudden CRUNCH and immediate pained cry from the boy, who was already trying to fight back by firing one point-blank Kinetic Blast from his bleeding palms into Volga's torso after another, slowly but surely beginning to form dents, cracks, and eventually the complete dismantling of his armor, with each strike flying at near the speed of sound.
Nikolay was going through tunnel vision as he tried to break away the last of Volga's armor, while his right shoulder continued to get crushed further within his grasp. His mind was trying its damnedest to try and block out the searing pain, but even that wasn't enough to block out the hard ringing and pain that flared all over his body, when Volga grabbed the collar of his costume with his other hand, and ultimately reared his head back and slammed his forehead straight into Nikolay's face.
Nikolay's current focus on using his Quirk to attack had fortunately not stopped his Impact Refraction ability from activating the moment their heads crashed, sending the majority of Volga's aggressive force straight back into his head, causing them both to reel back from it. However, the grip of his mechanical hands on Nikolay, alongside the weight of his feet, kept them from actually flying apart, thus trapping Nikolay to be subject to his continuous assault, consisting of a second vicious slamming of their heads together, and then a third and final time once Volga could feel the warmth of blood on his face.
Volga refused to recall his water cyclone from around them as he finally used his grip on Nikolay's shoulder to slam the visibly dazed young Hero to the ground with a resounding CLANG!
Nikolay looked as though his vision were spinning, as blood ran down his forehead and under his busted goggles, but that didn't stop Volga from still planting his foot on his right arm, raising a right hand up into a tightened fist to drive straight through him and finally end all these conflicting voices in his head. It was noticeably getting harder for him to breathe, however; and after looking at the extensive damage those mile-a-minute palm strikes and Kinetic bursts had done to his armor, it was easy to see why.
To know that even when having the overwhelming advantage, Nikolay's stubbornness had managed to break through him even this much, had left Volga audibly growling with rage as he reared his fist back, finally ready to end this battle once and for all. With their comrade out of the picture, the rest of these disruptive children would be easy to get rid of.
However, it was the moment that thought had even crossed his mind; that he was actually thinking of the elimination of children with such ease, that Volga's entire body froze. The shock in his eyes completely contradicted the rage twisting his face. He couldn't even recognize whose thoughts these were that were going through his head anymore when lost this thoroughly in the fire of all his anger and emotional flux.
Looking from his mechanical fist to Nikolay beneath his foot, Volga found himself truly taking in the features of his bloody, delicate face. Behind the blood, the goggles and the bruises, the boy truly did take after his mother, Gamayun. Even without having been able to see it with his own eyes, he could already tell that the boy could be able to emulate her heartwarming smile like second nature.
And with that thought, the late Number One Hero of Georgia herself came to mind…and with her soon came all the other nostalgic faces of all his fellow Heroes within the New Bogatyrs, and the inspiring smiles of confidence, bravery and compassion they always wore right alongside each other…with himself and Tunguska standing dead center among all of them; a whole team of paragons that always brought the light of a grand new day to even the most overwhelming of circumstances.
Such a vision of the past, and everything it meant to Volga still, came with such crystal clarity that it single handedly diffused the fire burning in his veins like that, and with it, the cyclone around himself and Nikolay once more came collapsing down, with the rest of the Hero students still rushing in, even when seeing the hostility in Volga's body language was no longer there.
Pietro's resultant confused shouting fell on deaf ears, as in this moment, the more Volga looked upon Nikolay in this pitiful and exposed state; the more a singular memory came rushing right back: the memory of when Tunguska had first presented the boy to him the day he had been born. So vividly could he remember the pride he felt in his chest when his old comrade had actually allowed him to hold him, still smiling that glowing ear-to-ear smile he always did in those days.
And so clearly could he remember the sense of honor and pride he felt in his chest that day when looking into Tunguska's eyes, and hearing the Sun of Justice express his desire for the River Hero to be godfather to his one and only child.
[[There isn't a single doubt in my mind that our boy would be in the best hands he could possibly be if you were to raise him, Comrade. He would become a truly great Hero, and be happy with you looking after him.]]
After having known each other for nearly a lifetime, Volga had known when Tunguska was absolutely serious or joking like the back of his hand. There hadn't been even a single trace of falsehood in anything the man had said to him that day, and after having nearly let himself forget the happiness he felt that day for nearly thirteen years, it had shaken Volga down to his core, realizing just how distant he felt from the person he had been that day, and in all the years leading up to it.
With the memory of Nikolay's sleeping face as a newborn still hanging vividly in his head, Volga's gaze fell upon the bloodied, struggling face of the teenage boy still pinned under his foot, and the psychological connection that struck had nearly made Volga scream with shock and regret as he finally lowered his fist and removed his foot from his arm, stumbling back in disbelief at the realization of what he had just been about to do, on top of the countless other things he had let himself be coaxed into in the years that had led up to this very moment.
[[Oh my God…what have I…what have I done? What have I even become? I…I really don't know who I am anymore! What kind of excuse for a Hero am I?!]]
As Volga was in the middle of his mental lamentations, Nikolay had finally regained the immediate consciousness to realize he was still alive, and therefore try to get back onto his feet despite his crushed shoulder and the throbbing splitting pain in his head, with the rest of his friends immediately coming in to try and help him, while likewise taking in the scope of his injuries alongside their own this far into the fight.
[[ALL OF YOU LITTLE WRETCHES STAY BACK!]]
Pietro's voice echoed loud and clear, snapping all the Hero students on deck to attention, only to be met with the sight of the clearly enraged Pietro atop the tower, holding the notably docile-looking Valera in his arms before him in a manner clearly resembling a human shield.
Meeting their resultant looks of shock and anger at such backhanded tactics to keep them away, Pietro's disfigured face sneered with similar disgust. [[You're all a bunch of misguided young idiots! You simply couldn't have left well enough alone, could you?! We were simply trying to secure every asset we could so that we could finally deliver justice to the people most deserving of it! But you all just had to keep getting in the way, just because of some stupid childlike dream of being like all the flashy Heroes you saw on TV! Well look where it's gotten you all now! Do you even realize the kinds of people you're protecting by getting in the way like this?! Kolya knows; these are the same people that would gladly see every last one of you dead if given half the chance, no matter how much you put on the line for them!]]
[[That doesn't make them any less deserving of being protected from Villains like you!]] Tenya suddenly proclaimed with all the conviction he always spoke with, catching Pietro by surprise that it wasn't Nikolay immediately trying to argue with him.
Fired up by the conviction of his fellow Heroes, Tetsutetsu similarly shouted back up: [[Yeah, you're not telling us anything we don't already know, you brainwashing bastard! Tunguska-sensei's already told all of us about what his home is like now! No matter how bad stuff gets, there's never a reason that can justify killing tons of innocent people!]]
[[Or enslaving a whole town of innocent people; innocent children! You could've helped teach them all to use their Quirks like actual Heroes, but you do something evil like this instead?!]] Mina exclaimed with equal emotional intensity, keeping her fists balled up in preparation for the fight to continue, while Pietro continued to stand his ground with Valera as his protection. The fact the child wasn't fighting against him proved their worst fears that he was indeed well within the Villain's thrall.
Finally, Nikolay stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with the rest of his friends and schoolmates, staring Pietro down as he shouted up to him defiantly: [[You and Uncle Volga both keep going on about the people that have taken over back home, how things there will never change if you don't do this! But how can you expect anything at all to change for people still there with Quirks, if you mount an invasion and threaten a war like this on people? As long as we're here to stop you, then at least that carries the chance for someone in power out there to know Heroes are still looking to protect the people, and if it can inspire them to think even a little differently, and start encouraging their peers and the people to start looking to the future with hope instead of fear and hate…then it's worth facing whatever you have to throw at us that's left! I don't dare to speak for anyone other than myself, but this is the choice I've made, Pietro Granin!]]
Nikolay's speech visibly enlivened his fellow Heroes with the drive to keep fighting of their own individual wills, as they all looked him in the eye; Pietro could see this loud and clear. To think that there had once been a time he would have admired these youths for making such bold choices against such overwhelmingly serious odds, had he ever been given the opportunity to stand where they now were, the idealistic young Heroes facing the ambiguous ultimate evil. But now that he knew far too well just how many different shades of grey truly constituted the world; their youthful displays of resistance and determination only turned the stomach he no longer had.
However, even as he was thinking all this to himself, Pietro was also making a very keen observation between Nikolay and his allies; an observation that he couldn't possibly keep to himself, while knowing that keeping Valera nearby was keeping him safe from their trying to get the drop on him.
[[Kolya here is hardly surprising, but the rest of you, you couldn't be farther removed from being Russian or even Slavic if you'd tried. Despite that, though, you're all speaking our language so fluently. For so many of you to be so skilled with such an unusual language for this country, there's no way that's just a coincidence.]]
And finally came the moment wherein the metaphorical light bulb went off over Pietro's head. [[Ah…this is Linguist's doing, isn't it? I guess my attempt to rub him out to keep him from helping you lot any further was too late after all. And if you're all still speaking it this far into the game, then I suppose that means he's still alive after all. I suppose he gave you all this little gift so you could better communicate with my prisoners or anyone else in town if it came down to it once the fighting had lightened up. Makes sense.
[[I couldn't help but notice those tiny little black things in most of your ears, too. Protection for yourselves from what he and Knot must've told you about my Quirk yesterday, no doubt. You all probably came here thinking you were fully protected, didn't you? Had this battle of ours come just a day sooner, you'd undoubtedly be right.
[[However, you're not the only ones that have been working hard to make your Quirks stronger for this very occasion. Too bad Linguist didn't take into account the helping hand he just gave me by assisting you all. Now let's see just how strong you little Hero wannabes really are.]] Pietro muttered this final part primarily to himself as the corners of his scarred mouth began to lift in anticipation.
With no forewarning, Pietro suddenly fazed his fingers into the back of the now visibly surprised-looking Valera; catching all the present Yuuei students by surprise, before they just as quickly realized what the man was about to do as soon as he opened his mouth wide and spoke with a reverberating and penetrating frequency:
[[You aren't a Hero, you never were! You are my sworn, loyal disciple and soldier, and have been since the day I took you under my wing in your infancy! I have been your father, mentor and leader for the majority of your life, and we have not only sworn to see the success of our campaign through to the end, but so too did you swear to give your all to protect me from any and all enemies, even if it meant your life! I am the only person in your life that you have ever needed and will ever want! Everyone else before you is our enemy, and they threaten to destroy our campaign for justice if you don't destroy them first!]]
It became frighteningly clear just what Pietro was trying to do the moment they saw Valera's calm expression change and the tone and volume of Pietro's voice change with it. Despite their individual assurances that their specific ear protection Mei had given them were all still in place, they were all of the same mind that they had come much too far and suffered too much to let Pietro even try to get the advantage over them like this.
[[BEZPALOV-SAN!]] The moment Nikolay heard Tenya's voice call to him, he already could feel an idea to buy them just a few precious seconds of time form in his brain. Drawing two of his small tuning forks from his bandolier, he reached his uninjured arm out for the sprinting half-armored class president to grab onto, immediately feeling himself get pulled along with Tenya's momentum, only spinning around once before he could feel himself get thrown through the air towards Pietro himself.
The moment he and the wide-eyed commander's gazes locked, Nikolay fired his two smaller weapons with a series of precise wrist throws with Kinetic Boosts through his fingers, both aimed directly for Pietro's head. 'C'mon, from this up close, he can't possibly be able to get Valera up to block that in time! Please hit and let's end this fight right here!'
[[ACID SHOT!]]
Before Nikolay could even hear Mina's voice echoing through the wind rushing past his ears, he could see the single fast flying glob of acid flying right past him to his left, swallowing up his two tuning forks just before they could reach Pietro's head. As Nikolay felt his momentum and adrenaline drain as he fell back to the deck in shock, he could see the most accomplished and confident-looking smile stretch across Pietro's face.
Nikolay could feel his blood turn to ice before he even turned around, already able to see similar horrified body language reflected in Tenya, Tetsutetsu and Monoma's faces, as Mina was now standing alone before them, legs bent in her usual fighting stance, and her pink hands still dripping with an acid coating as her black gold eyes stared the four boys down with aggressive intent.
The oceanic wind that came rushing across the deck of the submarine at that moment was like a mocking breath from hell itself, as the four distressed young Heroes watched as Mina's hair blew with it, revealing her ears to be completely empty of Mei's protective buds. They could all feel their stomachs twist with this horrible realization of what Pietro had ultimately done to their ally and friend, while likewise chastising themselves for not having taken the one second back at the flooded Gagaringrad to make sure they all still had them. That tidal wave attack had to have been the one and only time for her to have had them knocked loose, and they were all too desperately rushed to even notice.
None of the remaining boys had ever stopped to consider the potential link between Pietro's Quirk and the benefit of the language barrier, which Leonid had unknowingly removed for their enemy. Right now, all they could feel was the agony of knowing he had just turned one of their own with the most potentially devastating Quirk against them, and that was just the most practical observation they could make.
Nikolay felt like his heart was being torn right out of his chest, and that was before Pietro's gloating voice came echoing down to the four visibly despondent Hero interns: [[Time to test and see just how strong your convictions towards justice really are, children! Thanks to all my recent resurrections through little Valera here, my Quirk has grown much farther reaching and powerful than you can ever know…so much so, that you might just have to say goodbye to the person your pink little friend once was from this moment on, no matter if you knock her out cold like all the others or not.]]
The more practical Heroes among them like Tenya and Monoma couldn't allow themselves to let Pietro's words get to them; such a bold claim sounded exactly like a bluff from a Villain to throw Heroes off their game, as described by Aizawa and Vlad King before.
However, practical thinking was the very last thing on Nikolay's mind as Pietro's words echoed over and over in his head, making his heartbeat skyrocket with torturous agony, unbearable sadness at the very idea the Villain was suggesting…and a murderous anger that made his blood burn in his veins like white phosphorous.
Nikolay threw his head back to stare bloody daggers at Pietro above; boiling hot tears of despair flowing down his face as his teeth clenched to the near point of cracking, and his hands clenched into fists so tight, his nails were cutting into the open wounds of his palms; a pain that didn't even remotely reach his brain, as all else in the world around him had been rendered nonexistent, save for the desire to beat the scar-covered man before him into a grease stain on the steel, until his own fists were reduced to burning and bloody stumps.
This one man had expressed his having forever taken away Nikolay's first ever friend in his long and pain-riddled life; his best friend in the entire world among so many other best friends…the girl he had long since come to realize he'd loved like no other. He had expressed doing so with such self-assuredness, that it couldn't possibly have been a bluff…and to know he had done something so cruel, so personally painful to him and his friends, and was able to laugh victoriously about it, had finally drawn out a screeching howl that could have very well torn the heavens and earth asunder.
Standing among his three fellow Heroes, Nikolay cried out with all his rage and emotion tearing out of him in an intensity that would have even left Bakugo shocked silent: [[YOU VILE, HEARTLESS, WRETCHED PIECE OF F-ING SHIT!]]
And there you all have it, everyone, one of my personal favorite cliffhanger endings I've done so far, and one of the hardest creative decisions I've made as well. I really hope this has left you all super excited to see what's to come next week!
Please read and review to let me know what you think, and I hope you all have a great rest of your week, and I will see you all with the next chapter on 07/09!