The aides around the President scrambled as they attempted to make heads or tails of what had happened. In an instant, Gecko's line had been cut, and a response team was sent out to investigate. They found nothing but a wasteland. The area was scorched, with everything caked in a thick layer of radioactive dust. If they were right in the wind's direction, then radioactive dust would begin appearing in Greece in a week. It wouldn't be long before news spread, so every employee they had was called up.
Techno was busy censoring stories and rumored photos of the events. Ocelot was sent to Africa to track the Tyrant down. And Night Owl was doing some experiment as always. Just as she was about to order another group of heroes into the continent, her phone rang. She checked the number, finding it to be an unknown. Considering the circumstance, she already knew who it was.
"So glad you picked up," the Tyrant began, as the President answered the call, "I was worried I would have to use another."
"What do you want, you sick fuck." the President demanded. One nuke was already enough, and he said he had a dozen. No further detonations had been heard around the globe, so it meant this one was a message.
"I'm a simple man madam President, all I want, is the HPSC out of Africa." the Tyrant replied over the line, a group of aides beginning to trace the call.
"That means every hero, representative, and mercenary you've hired needs to be gone within forty-eight hours. Or the public finding out about one nuke will be the least of your worries."
The line went dead, and the President looked over to the nearby aides. They had traced the signal and were already showing the destination. And the President froze. For the first time in decades, she froze in terror at what she saw. It was a massive complex of missile silos, surrounded by bunkers, tanks, artillery guns, MLRSs, and enough helicopters to blot out the sun.
It was a fortress, one that would require thousands of heroes to take. But that would take too long, far too long to do. To assemble them all, to brief them, to get them to Africa. By then the Tyrant would have spotted them and launched another nuke. She considered using the HPSC's contacts in governments with nukes, but the radar stations made her think otherwise. A counterstrike would be detected and lead to him launching another.
There was nothing she could do here, nothing except call her heroes back.
All For One had assumed this would be a normal day. He was mistaken. For one of his subordinates had brought forth news he couldn't believe.
"A nuke was detonated in Nigeria, master."
He kept a calm appearance as his subordinate talked, but deep down he felt nothing but rage. Some upstart had decided to show him up, whether consciously or unconsciously doing so. All For One always knew the biggest threat to his plans was not the blond buffoon. It was other villains, specifically those working with the HPSC. So to hear one of those villains got their hands on a nuke, and actually used it, it made him furious.
"Do you have an identity on the man responsible?" he asked calmly, keeping the facade he had put on.
"We do, they call him the Congo Tyrant. He's a warlord that controls vast swaths of Africa."
"What of his quirk?" All For One asked. For a man to accomplish this so easily, it must have been horrendously powerful. And he wanted it. It had to be something good, maybe mind control. That would explain how he convinced the HPSC to fund him. Then again it could easily be something that induced pure fear.
"It's um… a minor strength enhancement…"
That made him pause for a moment, as he contemplated the words that had been said.
"Define, minor strength enhancement," he ordered the pawn in front of him shaking in fear.
"He's uh… slightly stronger than the average human. As in maybe a hundred pounds more."
"You mean to tell me, some upstart with an almost worthless quirk MANAGED TO DETONATE A NUKE IN AFRICA!?" All For One shouted, his facade falling quickly. He didn't exactly care that it did, he was instead far too furious. The man had the most powerful quirks in the world and was the most powerful being in the world. And some upstart had managed to show him up.
He would find this Tyrant, and rip the quirk from his body! He would leave him a small debilitating husk forever daring to surpass the great All For One! He would-
"Sir! We appear to be under attack!"
He angrily looked back up to find the buffoon on the security cameras. He was rushing past every defense he had. At least he had something to vent his frustrations on, that being All Might's skull.
Ocelot rushed into Nezu's office, ignoring the looks all the heroes gave him. He slammed into the door startling Nezu, but he didn't show it. Nearly out of breath, Ocelot stumbled over to him.
"Ocelot, a pleasure to-"
"No time for that, the Tyrant detonated a nuke!"
The statement shut Nezu up almost instantly. He turned and lowered his office's shutters, keeping all prying eyes away. Ocelot for his part closed the door and quickly took a seat. He placed a codec on the desk and called Snake, beginning the meeting.
"So," Nezu began, "he did it."
"He did," Snake confirmed, the call starting on his end, "We could see it from our base."
"I've already got his demands from the President, he wants all HPSC personnel out of Africa in forty-eight hours."
"Well, that's quite a long list of people he wants gone," Nezu noted.
"The HPSC can't keep this hidden for long. Sooner or later radiation deaths are going to start showing up," Snake commented.
"True, but that's why they're changing the narrative as quickly as possible. I got word that seven prisoners with radioactive quirks were just released." Ocelot told him.
"So they're taking the fall it seems."
"Still, this is a nuclear explosion we're talking about, they won't be able to cover everything up," Snake stated.
"They won't have to, Nigeria is thousands of miles from any first-world nation. No one's going to care unless it's in their own backyard, all they need is some half-baked excuse." Nagant piped up then.
"As much as I hate to admit it, she's right." Nezu conceded.
"Then what now?" Snake asked. From what Ocelot knew the Tyrant had twelve active nukes still available. That didn't include the factories and mines they didn't know about building more. That meant twelve targets for him to choose from. Targets that could range anywhere from New York to Beijing.
"I have the location of the Tyrant, and possibly the other nukes." Ocelot shared, uploading the data into the Idroid. He pulled up the fortress then, and Nezu studied it carefully.
"I see at least fifteen S400s and another fifty different missile systems." Nezu shared, as he marked down more targets. Snake couldn't help but gawk at the level of ordinance. And then the plans were quickly eliminated. Missile strikes would result in a counterstrike. A ground assault would do the same. As would bombing campaigns, the use of drones, and anything else Snake could think of.
"What does the HPSC plan to do about this?" Nagant asked, looking over the silos carefully.
"As of right now, the President is listening to the Tyrant's demands."
"So we're it then," Snake deduced. The HPSC couldn't stop them, and the rest of the world knew nothing. It was odd how common missions like these had become, the world on the balance with no one the wiser. Soon enough Snake made his final thoughts. The radar's surrounding the silos meant no aircraft could get close. That meant he was going on foot.
Nezu was right, try as the HPSC might, they could not cover up everything. Sure they did a damn good job at it, but there were always slivers of information they missed. That didn't mean the HPSC worried about it, no. The information that escaped them always fell into the hands, of nutjobs. Conspiracy theorists, those with too much time on their hands stumbling onto random web forums at three AM.
The majority of people didn't believe the stuff on them, writing it off as the ramblings of someone who'd gone insane. And the majority of people were right, especially after the fifth conspiracy theory that all birds were the creation of someone's quirk. But this wasn't one of those cases. A rumor had arrived from somewhere, of a nuke being detonated in Africa.
The majority of people wrote it off as another nutcase, but those that didn't, found out they should be afraid. After all, the villains, the true villains of the world, already knew what had happened. And they had been emboldened, seeing the cracks in the HPSC's hold. They smelt blood in the water, they were simply waiting to see what would happen.
But they found something else as well, for the stories of the nuke were linked with another. To a lone mutant, secluded in his home trying to ignore the world, he found the first ramblings of a legend. For a blood-drenched girl ducking into an alleyway, she heard the tales of an army made of criminals and heroes.
For the underbelly of society, looking for any form of solace, they found one name over and over. They found the name, of Big Boss. They didn't know who he was, but the name always arrived. But it was all they needed, as the rumors of a tyrant with nukes, continued to spread. And of his battle with Big Boss.
As the Tyrant looked over the map, he couldn't help but hold a smug grin. He knew the task he had given the HPSC was impossible, and that's what he wanted. The factory had simply been a demonstration, and now the twelve countries he chose as targets were lined up. The question was, which one should go first.
"I'm telling you, fuck the French." Night Owl stated, "They should be the first to go."
"But I like croissants, it'd be a shame to lose them so quickly." the Tyrant countered.
"Croissants are Austrian, I'm sure they'll be fine." Night Owl replied.
"If you say so, but why so much hate for the French? German, Russian, British even, I would expect. But the French?" the Tyrant asked him, as Night Owl moved a small flag on the map to Paris.
"It's their accents, it sounds so fucking atrocious. They could be giving the most elegant speech ever, professing their love to some beautiful damsel. Then it devolves into the squelching of pigs. And the accent just makes it so much worse." Night Owl ranted. Though he smiled continually, he looked as if he wanted to tear out his hair.
"Still, I'd rather keep the Palace of Versailles intact, I never got to visit it yet." the Tyrant told him, moving the flag away from Paris.
"Fine, nuke Marseille then." Night Owl conceded, and the Tyrant moved it over to Marseille.
"Now for my next target, I think we'll do Washington D.C." The Tyrant moved the next flag then.
"For fucks sake," Night Owl muttered.
"What's wrong with nuking Washington?" the Tyrant asked him, somewhat surprised. It was a sound strategic decision, what was there to oppose?
"It's because everyone tries to attack Washington. It's not original anymore. The same could be said for New York and Los Angeles." Night Owl replied as he held up a list detailing every attack in those cities. The Tyrant didn't know where he got the list, but he didn't want to ask.
"But that's where the government is situated." he countered.
"That's why they expect it, they expect the debilitating strike on Washington. Go for Chicago."
"Hell no, I'm keeping the deep-dish pizza capital alive."
"Deep-dish pizza!? Really!? The most overrated pizza in the world!?" Night Owl exclaimed then, shock becoming apparent on his face. The Tyrant gasped as the words were uttered.
"You bastard! Take that back!"
"It's nothing more than a glob of sauce and cheese!" Night Owl shouted.
"You just defined all pizza!" the Tyrant shouted back.
"No, pizza is an even amount of sauce and cheese! Not drowning in the amount of marinara!"
"You have no taste!"
"Of course, I don't! All I can taste is the marinara!"
"It is a symbol of fine cooking and of a strong culture! It's a symbolic gesture of finding something delicious within the sauce!"
"No it fucking isn't! They just put too much fucking sauce on it and turned the pizza into a bowl!"
"I refuse to nuke Chicago!"
"What then! You going to nuke Detroit!?"
They both paused for a moment as they took in what was said. Slowly the tension died down before both of them moved the flag to Detroit.
"What about Tokyo?" Night Owl asked.
"Eh, why not." the Tyrant agreed.