"I'm being reassigned?" Nagant asked Snake, watching as a helicopter landed. Its side doors opened and out stepped her replacement, a lower-ranking General. She didn't like being forced to leave Africa so soon. There was still work that needed to be done, but Snake had other matters.

"Effective immediately, yes. We've got a new contract out in Belarus. The Polish Government wants us to eliminate a human trafficking organization in the area." Snake told her, "This isn't a large operation, however. Only you and me."

With a sigh, Nagant saw the helicopter's pilot waiting for her. So, she held up a finger, informing the pilot to wait for a moment. With that, she turned around and walked back into her small FOB.

"Specifics on the job?" Nagant asked again, before arriving at the base's armory. Looking around she eyed up the weapons present.

"This group calls themselves The Showstoppers. That's all the intel we've been given. No size estimates, leadership, associates, nothing. Just a name, and where they guess is their main base. The mission starts in two days." Snake replied to which Nagant paused for a moment.

"That's it?"

"That's it. I don't know if there simply hiding something, or if they truly have no intel on this group other than the fact they exist."

"So be on the lookout. Got it," Nagant surmised. As she did so she carefully picked up M24 Remington. Inspecting it for any faults, she asked over the codec, "What's the AOE like?"

"Urban. Lots of tall buildings, and civilians." Snake answered. Nagant pondered her choices then. It was never said, but she inferred Snake wanted this op quiet. So, the Remington might suffice. Might.

"The enemy?"

"Just a vague location, on a building with fifteen stories. Could have guards on every floor."

She set the Remington down then, before turning to her second choice the M110. With an unknown number of enemies, firing speed meant everything. So, with the semi-auto sniper in hand, she walked back out. Finding the helicopter, she hopped in and watched as they took off.


"Can you turn your arm to the left?" Soul asked, watching as the soldier turned his arm to the left. The prosthetic was working well, reacting to the soldier's movements like it was his original arm. With the soldier having completed the task, Soul took note of the first success.

"Great, now open your hand."

And the soldier opened his hand, although with a bit of a delay. The index and middle fingers opened up together, but the ring and pinky took a little longer. The thumb didn't move at all, however. A bit worrying, but the technology was still under development. At least that's the excuse he wanted to use.

In reality, the truth was far more complicated. See humanity had created fully functioning prosthetics, and they were true wonders, being almost indistinguishable from real limbs. That was over a century ago. Over the years nothing has changed in the design. Which honestly bugged Soul. Technology like this should have reached the civilian market years ago. Instead, it would cost both your other limbs just to replace the one you lost.

That or dealing with a shady backroom deal, and hoping that if you wake up, the doctor didn't steal your kidneys. That wouldn't work with the MSF. By the world's standards, they were still a small army. Even if their reputation said otherwise. But that meant every soldier in their ranks was valuable. Every loss was of a skilled pilot or tanker, an esteemed doctor or engineer, a veteran infantryman or sailor.

So, when dozens of men were taken off the field due to missing limbs, a problem began to form. Snake had of course turned to the R&D team to see if something could be made, to which R&D began scavenging the world. Only to find blueprints that would cost up to forty-eight million. They needed a cheaper alternative, so they turned to making one from scratch. This one specifically was made of a polymer plastic, with an aluminum frame.

Some of the project's scientists worried about the prototype's structural integrity, but it seemed to be working fine. The real issue was getting the fluid motion of a normal arm. The wrist was on a hydraulic ball joint, to move the wrist better. But it still moved slowly and robotically. For the next test, Soul placed an apple on the table next to the soldier.

"Can you pick it up?" Soul asked, before adjusting the thumb into position.

"Sure," the soldier replied, turning over to the apple. Slowly, the soldier moved the arm into place. The first few fingers wrapped around the fruit, and the soldier lifted it up. But the fingers didn't stop, instead closing tighter until the apple was crushed in the soldier's palm.

The soldier gave Soul a sheepish look and then, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Soul replied, as he took out a screwdriver, "We are still in the testing phase. Bugs are this are expected to occur."

He then adjusted some of the screws on the arm, before opening up the arm's inner shell. On the indeed were the main mechanisms, a section for batteries, and the most important part, a small computer. Its purpose with some of Strangelove's assistance, would link to the nerves of the body. The electrical signals sent by the brain would be read by the computer and move the arm.

It was essentially an artificial nerve, as the arm could also return an electrical current. At least that was the plan. Like the rest of the arm, they had yet to test this feature, and frying the brain of an amputeed veteran didn't sound all that appealing. Currently, however, Soul couldn't tell if the arm was having programming issues, or if the hydraulics were the problem. If it was the hydraulics, then he could fix it. But if it was the programming then he was going to have to wait for Strangelove to get back.

He couldn't blame her though; every parent could understand celebrating their kid's birthday. So, for the moment, he loosened the hydraulics, hoping that would solve the issue.

"Alright, now try again." Soul told the soldier. He set down another apple and the soldier moved to pick it up. Just like the first time, the fingers wrapped around the apple and the soldier lifted it off the table. And just like the first time, the fingers continued before crushing the apple. With a sigh, Soul returned to his notes, planning the next test.


This was truly fascinating to Nezu. While the MSF didn't have much, he was still given a considerable amount of information. His personnel computer alone had documents dating all the way from 2035. It was such a pain how long it had taken everything to load. But it was here now, and he wouldn't waste a second more. So, with a freshly prepared cup of tea, he opened the first report… and was forced to stop when Aizawa tiredly entered the room. A shame, and he had been so excited about this.

"An HPSC rep is here to see you," Aizawa told him. That struck Nezu as odd. Ocelot would have informed him of a meeting, and the cameras would have alerted him to his presence. Checking over the cameras, he said to Aizawa, "Please, send them in."

As he did so, nothing showed up on the cameras. Now Nezu very rarely was surprised, his intelligence normally allowed him to predict and quickly analyze situations. Yet this was something worrying. This only got worse when he saw who walked in.

"Principal Nezu, a pleasure to finally meet you," the man said, his eyes boring deep into the rodent. His face had a wide smile plastered on it, one that was too wide to be friendly and had an air of smugness to it.

"Xavier Philips," Night Owl introduced taking a seat in a nearby chair. Somehow, Night Owl knew, and Nezu recognized this. But the act needed to continue, as the two smiled at each other. Aizawa, sensing the malicious mood both of them had, decided it wise to vacate the premises. Leaving the two alone.

"I hear you've been making friends," Night Owl remarked, "Tell me, how is Snake doing currently?"

"I don't know what you're talking about I'm afraid, that is unless you're referring to our latest student?"

"Depends, do they have an eye patch and a mastery in firearms?"

"No,"

"Hehe, then as much as I would enjoy another hour of us doing this little game, I think we should cut to the chase." Night Owl told Nezu, to which the rodent nodded.

"Agreed, why are you here?"

"Oh, it's simple really, Madam President assigned Ocelot to a new mission and sent me to 'continue discussions'." Night Owl answered, his hands mimicking air quotes for the end. That statement alone was alarming. Did the HPSC already know of his involvement with the MSF? Did they know about Ocelot? These questions echoed around Nezu's mind, as he kept his stone-faced smile.

"Of course, I know this isn't going to end up anywhere," Night Owl commented, before lounging back into his chair, kicking his feet up on Nezu's desk.

"But you know the drill. Renounce UA's international entity status, or else there will be consequences."

"Is that your demands, or the President's?"

"Hers. I couldn't care less about this school, regardless of how much I want it burnt to the ground," Night Owl commented, before his smile widened further, "Oops, did I say that out loud. Still, that does bring a few thoughts to mind, some very creative thoughts."

Nezu's face shifted, the calm smile, being replaced with calm anger. He could see why the MSF had made Night Owl their number-one target. This man was nothing but an enigma. He colluded with villains around the world, but actively assisted the HPSC. It made no logical sense, outside of him being insane.

"I thought you couldn't care less."

"I really couldn't though, it's like caring over an ant. You don't fear or fret over the ant, but that doesn't stop you from crushing it."

The comparison gave Nezu some information, but not much. It was vague and all-encompassing. Was UA the ant, or was it heroes in general? Maybe he meant everyone, not just heroes. He couldn't tell.

"You are correct however, I will not renounce my school's status," Nezu stated. He took a small sip from his teacup, his eyes never leaving Night Owl.

"A shame, at least I tried my best." Night Owl replied sarcastically, before passing a small document to Nezu. He assumed it was some sort of blackmail at first, or even a bribe. Yet its contents were far different.

"The President wanted to try the kind approach one last time," Night Owl explained. The document was a letter from the UN. It was signed by almost a hundred different countries, all repealing UA's immunity. Nezu didn't let that shock him, he expected this sooner or later. But now he carefully planned his next move.

"You know, I find it funny," Night Owl rambled, before standing up. He turned and walked back over to the door, "Sixty thousand heroes entered Nigeria, and thousands of them died. Tell me, how many went to UA?"

Nezu kept a calm face, trying his best to ignore Night Owl's words. But his paws clenched into fists, straining the paper he held. Seeing he got the reaction he wanted, Night Owl stepped out of the office, walking away.


"It is why today; we celebrate the sacrifices of those lost." Madam President began, addressing the large crowd of civilians and reporters standing in front of her. She had her aides rush out a fresh speech, once the media shifted away from the WHA and instead to their local HPSCs. And it had been difficult to spin the narrative once they were put in a corner. For the moment, they claimed the coalition had been fighting a group of villains in the area.

The villains were well-trained, but "defeated" in three short days. It was, however, at a high cost. Of course, none of this was true. Their children, parents, husbands, and wives, had in truth died for nothing. And this lie was the only thing keeping the pandemonium of that revelation in check.

"It is why today; we remember who they are. For they have given more than we could ever hope to pay back. And we may never fully pay them back, but we start today." the President stated, a hint of sadness in her voice. She added fake tears to reinforce the mask she had created, hiding the anger still looming underneath. Turning over to the aides behind her, she gave a small nod.

The aides moved quickly and a small monument behind them was unveiled. It was a rushed job, but no one would ever know. Its main body was made of white marble, with a name inscribed on every surface. It was the cheapest option they could find. It had the people convinced the HPSC cared and kept the President's pocketbook safe. Yet the crowd seemed pleased with it. Throughout the crowd, the President could see dozens of saddened faces.

They wore the merch of fallen heroes, or of their deceased relatives. She could even spot the faces of heroes forced into retirement, the battle injuring them too gravely. Soon though, she spotted a new face in the crowd. A blonde almost skeletal man, one she would have barely recognized before. Even from this distance, she could see the fury behind his eyes, something she knew she was going to have to deal with.

So as the ceremony came to a close, the weakened figure of All Might walked up to the President, as the crowd began to filter away.

"All Might," she greeted him quietly. It still felt strange to look at what was once a mountain of a man, and now see this. She didn't know all the facts, All Might simply wouldn't share them, but the HPSC has lost a lot of capital the day he asked them for a favor. But that did little to stem his fury.

"Why wasn't I told of this?" All Might demanded, the anger clear in his words.

"There was no time, and taking any longer would have given the villains prep time," The President lied.

"I still could have helped." All Might countered, "I should have been there."

"It wouldn't have mattered, by the time you would have arrived, the mission would have been over." the President told him. And even then, they never wanted him there. The mission could only be done by the more… cannon-fodder heroes. The more famous and experienced ones might question what was going on. However, it seemed to convince All Might for the moment.

"Fine, but the next time something big is happening I better get a call." All Might told her, before walking off. It was a shame the HPSC still had yet to find a suitable replacement for the buffoon. Hawks's training was coming along well, but he couldn't replace All Might. The blonde was simply too caring. He was unable to comprehend the madness that kept society together. But somehow, she knew his time was coming to an end.

It worried the President; All Might was the only thing keeping this system stable. But as she watched him walk away, she felt her phone begin to ring in her pocket. Taking it out, she found Techno calling her.

"I hope I'm not intruding Madam President, but Representative Uchiyama is dead," Techno explained, leaving the President frozen in shock.

"How?" the President asked.

"We're not entirely sure, but we're checking his blood for traces of poison at the moment. It shouldn't take long for the reports to arrive." Techno explained. It did little to end the President's worries. This was the third representative killed in the span of a few days, and most importantly, the third death of a vice presidential candidate. There still was no clue as to why it was happening, but it was becoming far too frequent.

"Until I say otherwise, none of this information is to reach the press." She ordered. The last thing they needed after the Africa disaster, was the sudden deaths of top political figures making headlines.

"And assign the candidates more security. We need a replacement vice president, and we need one now."

"I will mam."


The sound of power tools echoed around Night Owl as he watched the yakuza members work away. To mask the noise the entire warehouse had been soundproofed, and the surrounding block had been bought out by the Ninth Circle. And this operation was now in full swing. They welded outdated L-90s onto cheap pickup trucks, and Type 96 grenade launchers on civilian helicopters.

Several 155mm howitzers were placed onto large trailers and disguised with semi-trucks, along with MLRS launchers. Komatsu LAVS were modified and disguised as civilian vehicles, with the mounted machine guns hidden behind any number of objects. Kayaks, strapped-down boxes, mattresses, and objects that hid away the weapons. It was a glorious effort, one that had completely emptied the JSDF depot.

"I told you it would be worth it," Night Owl stated, turning over to his guest. Well, it would be more accurate to say host now, after all, Reaper was the one who brought him along. Reaper said nothing of course, instead inspecting the warehouse around him. Slowly he nodded though, as Night Owl let out a chuckle.

"By the way, are preparations coming along nicely?" Night Owl asked. To which Reaper yet again nodded, before snapping his fingers. In a flash, a new sight had been brought forward. With a segment of industrial cranes in the warehouse, the chassis of a train was moved in front of them. Its exterior fell away reviling a large segment of anti-ship missile launchers. To which Night Owl laughed in shock.

"Holy shit," he breathed between chuckles, "You truly spared no expense. To think I let you get the first pick."

While Night Owl couldn't see under Reaper's mask, he was sure the Yakuza leader was currently smirking. And Night Owl couldn't blame him. Oh, what fun he was going to have, it was only a shame he had to wait a bit longer. Still, no time like the present to prepare. Standing up, he walked over to a door leading out of the warehouse.

"Mind if I check with your men? I want to see how much work needs to be done." Night Owl asked to which Reaper silently nodded. With Reaper following him, the two walked out of the warehouse, and into a next-door apartment complex. Now it looked innocent on the outside, but the inside was completely different. Like the warehouse, it had been soundproofed and had been renovated extensively. Apartment walls were torn down for more space and were turned into armories, gun ranges, living quarters, and surveillance hubs with hundreds of cameras.

It was so easy to get away with too, it only took a little bit of bribing and the Ninth Circle having a guy with a pocket dimension quirk. They simply called him up and transported the arms with his quirk. And the HPSC didn't know a thing. When Night Owl entered the first apartment entrance, he found it connected to three other apartments. Inside a group of yakuza were inspecting the weapons they had been given.

Four of them were taking apart and cleaning the Type 20s or Type 89s they had been given. Two were firing MINIMIs or Type 62s at the gun range. And a final four were loading Remington 870 shotguns. Surprisingly enough the Remingtons were the only guns Night Owl had given the Ninth Circle. Everything else had been acquired from the JSDF depot. All of them looked over their weapons carefully, before they snapped their heads up to the sight of Reaper.

"Praise be to Reaper," they stated, clasping their arms against their chests and bowing. They only got back to work when Reaper raised his hand. Wordlessly Reaper looked at one yakuza member, who somehow knew what was being asked.

"Preparations go well. Two hundred men are ready for your call, Great Reaper."

Now with all his dealings with the Ninth Circle, Night Owl could best describe them, as a cult. They masqueraded as a yakuza, doing what one would expect a yakuza to do. But they held a revered loyalty to Reaper. One would suspect a quirk, what with how all the Ninth Circles members were so gung-ho to die for him. Except Reaper's quirk was Spectral Chains. A pair of ghostly purple translucent chains wrapped around his forearms.

Night Owl didn't really know what it was, but who was he to question his host's abilities. Maybe the entire group was made of nothing but edge lords, he couldn't tell. Still, a man with an assault rifle, was dangerous no matter how dumb they seemed. So, Night Owl watched as Reaper simply nodded, before the yakuza lined up at the firing range. Swiftly, they all set up targets and aimed.

They fired quickly, not stopping until every gun clicked empty. Once done Night Owl inspected the results. They were decent shots, not as well trained as a soldier, but good enough. Besides, they had plenty of time to prepare.


"You ready?" Snake asked as Midoriya checked over the last of his gear.

"Flashlight, MRE, night vision, 1911, M24, knife, Idroid…" Midoriya listed out loud, before turning over to Snake, "Yep!"

With a small smile, Snake watched as Pequod flew in close. The contract for the mission wasn't for another day, so Snake decided to take Midoriya on another trip. Something he was all too happy for. With DD standing beside him, and the door to the helicopter opening, Midoriya stepped inside. There he went up and sat in the copilot's seat, where Pequod looked at him.

"Hey, kid! How you been?" Pequod asked, ruffling Midoriya's hair. Midoriya simply smiled before he saw DD resting on the chairs behind him. Snake, meanwhile, laid back on the farthermost spot after closing the doors to the helicopter. Giving Pequod confirmation, the pilot soon lifted the helicopter back off. All the while Take On Me echoed through the vehicle's speakers. It gave Midoriya something to enjoy, aside from watching the waves clash below them.

Well, that and discussing quirks with Pequod.

"It still doesn't make sense though. How does an engine grow from a human body?" Pequod asked.

"I think it's due to the traces of iron already in the body," Midoriya replied, with his notebook in hand. He held it out displaying it to Pequod for a moment.

"Over the years it started as a metal quirk, but it changed when it was passed down, becoming more complex."

"But where does the fuel come from… actually never mind I think I can guess," Pequod commented, looking away from the notebook. The pilot didn't think he would ever understand quirks, and he was being proven right day by day.

"It might depend on the engine." Midoriya told him, "Some could possibly be an electric engine, using the body's natural electricity to power it."

As the words left his mouth he began to think deeper on the topic, turning to a different page in his notebook.

"By that line of logic, it would make it a combination quirk. Both a mechanical mutation along with an electrical type of quirk. If it's electric though maybe it could power other things, but to what extent. If it was powerful enough, could it be used for a car? It might be able to if correctly applied. It could do good in hero work, maybe acting as an emergency generator for buildings or vehicles." Midoriya rambled on, not realizing he had entered a long mumble spree. Pequod, however, did not snap him out of it. Cautiously looking at Midoriya he decided to see how long he would be stuck in his head.

"It could also be a radioactive quirk if the engine was instead nuclear powered, but would that immediately harmful rays as well? Then again nuclear reactors are normally large concrete structures, so it would be a very advanced engine quirk. Maybe it could be replicated elsewhere…" It was then that Midoriya looked up from his notes and found Pequod resting back in his chair. Looking out the window, he saw the helicopter had also landed.

"…Was I mumbling?" Midoriya asked.

"You were," Pequod replied calmly, as he lowered his helmet.

"For how long?"

"I'd say about five hours straight," Pequod answered to which Midoriya sheepishly chuckled. He turned over to Snake then, finding the man opening the helicopter's doors. Stretching for a quick moment, Midoriya stood up and walked over to him. Stepping out, he looked around at the wide mountainous terrain of Afghanistan. It was shocking how many times he had come here.

Soon enough though, they were off. Walking through the area Midoriya vigilantly watched the area. He saw DD do the same, the dog also sniffing the ground. Quietly Midoriya called out to Snake.

"What are we looking for again?" Midoriya asked before Snake had them come to a halt. They were perched on a small rock face, looking down at two bears on the bottom of the slope.

"Asiatic black bears," Snake replied, pointing at the creatures. He then crouched down, putting his rifle into position, with Midoriya doing the same.

"You aim for the left, I'll aim for the right," Snake told him. Midoriya silently nodded, before looking through the scope of his M24. Lining it up, he waited for a moment before pulling the trigger. The tranquilizer round knocked the bear out instantly, with Snake soon doing the same.

"Good job," Snake complimented patting Midoriya on the back. Seeing that no other animals were nearby, the two walked up to the unconscious bears. Midoriya watched as Snake carefully fastened the bears to the fultons, before watching as they drifted away. With two down, they both went back to searching the area.