"Do you have any idea what may have become of your squadmate Arashiro?" The man hadn't introduced himself; he was just some anonymous MP with ridiculous hair and a truth quirk. It was just another interrogation like any other...
Izuho shook his head. "I haven't seen her since we had a stupid, pointless argument the night after the... escape? Attack?" He wasn't quite sure how to refer to the event.
"Do you believe she was loyal to the PLF?"
"What? Yes! Of course. What are you--sorry sir." The man raised an eyebrow. Izuho, after all, was not to ask questions here.
"Are you loyal to the PLF?"
"Of course! And so wa--is Arashiro," he couldn't refer to her in past tense, not until he knew for sure what had become of her. Even if he was fairly sure she was dead, fairly sure was not certain.
"Did anything unusual happen in the days before she disappeared, other than the obvious?"
Had anything unusual happened? "I... I don't think so. She was really upset about Wakiya, our squadmate who died, but we both were and that's not weird, is it?"
The MP hummed, nodded, and after brief consideration dismissed Izuho with a wave.
Izuku put Izuho's face aside as he returned to the room he now shared only with Nishida. The spy collapsed back onto his bunk with a sigh, lightly tossing Arashio's prison from palm to palm. Hopefully she was still dead to the world.
It was so easy, lying like that. Had it been this easy for Influx, putting on faces and names the same way people changed clothes, before the lies and manipulations became truths and, inevitably, sealed her doom? So easy... yet he couldn't stand the idea of doing it even one more day. He'd have to, though.
It wasn't over yet. Not quite.
A blue-white cube of light now formed in front of the machine on level D when Kyudai activated the systems for testing. That couldn't be good. The cube, like an opalescent volcano, cast an eerie glow, the light of some hell that had disguised itself superficially by stealing the shades most often associated with the heavens. The whole room reeked now, the air heavy with ozone and iron, and the systems whirred and grumbled loudly enough to muffle voices sometimes.
"Alright. You think it will work now?" Shigaraki growled as Izuho walked only a few meters above him on the latest of the patrol catwalks. If Fossa shot Shigaraki right now, what would happen? Chances were Shigaraki would walk it off--stupid healing factor--but if Fossa put several bullets through the man-child's brain... would that do him in? Would it be worth it to try?
"I believe we have this subsystem integrated correctly now," the doctor nodded as techs swarmed around him, worker bees attending the queen.
Shigaraki stepped into the cube, instantly illuminated in zombie shades as the blue tint contrasted messily with gray skin. The man squeezed his eyes shut, probably trying to visualize the proper "scene" again, with limited success. Would he still be at it when Izuho got back?
Yes, actually. When Izuho returned to the room, hurrying his patrol as usual, Shigaraki stood in the exact same place, but his patience seemed to be at its end.
"I can't decide," Shigaraki snarled, beginning to pace back and forth as he scratched at his neck, "whether I should resign myself to try again later or disintegrate this entire stupid thing and start from scratch!"
What in the world was that swirling in the sick, blue light? It was as if Shigaraki had an extra shadow... "Woah!" Izuho yelled despite himself. There were two Shigarakis. What could be worse? One had pulled off a glove and seemed ready to disintegrate the machine after all whereas the
other had turned to walk back to Kyudai's side, shoulders hunched in resignation.
"Emergency stop!" Dr. Kyudai yelled, one of the techs across the room slamming his hand down on a big, red button without hesitation.
The two Shigaraki's vanished, replaced by their average. The PLF's reintegrated leader whirled in one direction, then the other. "What in the world?" Shigaraki demanded, beside himself figuratively now rather than literally.
"Well," Dr. Kyudai said mildly, "that was an unexpected side effect. In the future, make sure to decide exactly what you intend to do before stepping into the permissive paradox field, and especially do not visualize the possible outcomes of the decision you are making." Permissive paradox field... so that was what they had decided to call the blue light? What in the world were they doing with this thing? Permissive paradox field... well, it certainly sounded like the kind of phenomenon that would allow someone to be in two places at once. "You!" the doctor pointed to Izuho where he perched on the catwalk before singling out a number of other non-Krypteia guards, "not a word about what you have seen here this evening."
"No sir, never sir," Izuho barked as he would reply to any superior's orders, despite the fact that Kyudai did not hold a formal rank. Three other voices echoed him.
"Back to your patrol," Shigaraki waved Fossa on. Izuho nodded, made appropriate noises of fealty, and turned on his heel.
This wasn't just some simple teleportation device. Izuku couldn't guess exactly what their end game was but whatever Shigaraki and Kyudai were doing down there, it absolutely had to be stopped. Fossa just didn't have a good idea of how to achieve that particular end, especially given the time crunch. The trend suggested they might have the full machine operational within days. There was so little time and so many complications...
The room had permanent guards at all hours, mostly Krypteia now. Fossa might be able to temporarily sabotage the machine by sacrificing his life to empty a magazine into some of its
tender components, but they'd rebuild the thing good as new and Fossa would have died for nothing.
Unacceptable. He'd been willing to die to take out Nagant at the Battle of UA but he hadn't been willing to do so until he was sure his sacrifice, his part in the battle, could mean something. He might have lost everything that remained of his hope for the future since then, but that hadn't made him stupid. Objectively, Fossa was a valuable chess piece and his sacrifice would have to deal a devastating blow to the enemy or it would not be a fair transaction.
He needed a plan. Quickly. Or a new opportunity... It was too bad there wasn't another Dark Shadow to let loose on the building, this time with instructions to head downwards... not that he could survive another Dark Shadow episode with his sanity intact.
Now, assassinating Dr. Kyudai was an attractive option. Fossa was probably not capable of killing Shigaraki, not given the man's apparent healing factor. If War Dog and Dark Shadow couldn't take down the PLF's leader, there was little chance Fossa could... but Kyudai was the brains of this operation, likely irreplaceable, and he was not nearly as durable as Shigaraki--probably. "Kill Dr. Kyuadi when convenient" wasn't much of a plan but it was something. Fossa would wait for an opportunity, a moment where everyone's back was turned and he had a few seconds available to shoot both the man and machine. That would be the ticket. One of these days his number would finally come up.
Fifteen different people, mostly commanding officers, spoke at the mass funeral for the victims of Fossa's plot. Sprawling in a horseshoe about a central stage in the treeless, grassless dirt-pit that passed for a municipal park in the Citadel, the crowd crawled with MPs and Krypteia. None of them approached Fossa, though, so what did it matter? The spy was used to it by now, the constant existential threat of the vipers coiling about him. He cared only in the sense that being captured and killed now would ruin his plan to throw another spanner in the heart of the PLF's tender works.
Name after name... Wakiya was mentioned once, when they read off the full list of casualties into a feedback-prone microphone.
That was just... What right did Izuku have to be angry at the casual disregard lent to his tent-mate when Fossa himself was the cause of the man's death? Well, it didn't matter if he had the right to be angry because angry he was. It was another case where it didn't matter what was right or moral so much as what he was capable of. Izuku clenched his fists and ground his teeth and Nishida put a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, "easy."
"He deserved more than a footnote," Izuho whisper-hissed.
"I know," Nishida replied.
Had Izuku's funeral been like this? He must have had a service, but the confirmation of his death had occurred when the war was well underway, right? Chances were he had been honored along with many other dead. How many words had been afforded to Midoriya Izuku?
Would he get a second funeral when all of this was over and the truth of his undercover work came
to light? Hopefully not. His mother, Kacchan, every other friend... they'd all mourned him already. Why even tell them they had mourned prematurely? Let sleeping dogs lie and don't exhume a grave just to put on the pomp of a second burial.
Shigaraki stepped up to the podium at last. "These have been troubling times for our movement," he acknowledged as thousands hung on his every word. "Many good soldiers lost their lives. My close friend Re-Destro was badly injured." That was one way to say "killed." "This underhanded terrorist attack was unprecedented, and rest assured that the culprit has been found and dealt with." Well, that whole sentence was a string of lies. Terrorism? This was war. Sabotage was a part of war. Shigaraki clearly understood that when it was his side doing the sabotage, and that claim of finding and dealing with the culprit was an even more blatant fabrication. Izuku would know if Fossa had been dealt with.
"The death and suffering of our comrades has not been in vain. These are the final days of the war, my friends." Friends. Sure. "The hour of our final victory is approaching at speed." The gray- skinned man grinned rather nastily. "While the Chain have wasted away, trying to chip at our defenses like insects, we've been busy thinking up a definite way to put a stop to their schemes once and for all. It may be a grim day now, but you can rejoice, for it will be one of the last grim days, this I promise to you. Tomorrow we will be victorious like never before."
That wasn't ominous at all. Alright. Fossa had to destroy that basement machine now. The more hints he heard about its purpose, the less he liked how his imagination filled in the blanks.
"Influx and Epona sitting on a boat... it doesn't rhyme... uh, trying really hard to stay afloat," Kuma abandoned her attempt to mock their kissing comrades.
"I don't think they heard you." No, those two were far too preoccupied with each other to pay attention to the generals who remained on the lake shore, well Dorieann was at least. Influx tended to keep a wary eye out regardless of what she might be doing with her tongue. They ought, perhaps, to pay some attention to Alexey who was headed towards them on a ramming speed canoe.
"Do you think we should get a canoe?" Chikara asked, bouncing a flat stone from hand to hand. "This should skip..."
Indeed, the stone skittered across the surface of the water, defying logic and gravity four times before finally plunging beneath the surface never to return, a cloud of silt stirring in its wake. Izuku could relate to that stone. "I don't know? Do you want a boat? I think Xavier and Valentin may be having more fun without one." Indeed, Fractal and Cloud Viper had managed to set up a swing at a prime location.
"Jump! Jump!" Valentin yelled. Xavier gave him an unimpressed look.
"What happened to Miranda?" Kuma asked, suddenly noting the telepath's absence. "Sleeping in a hammock," Chikara shrugged. "She may have the right idea..."
"I mean, we all have the right idea," Izuku pointed out, leaning back against the warm shore and likely saturating his hair in sand. Whatever. "Just taking a break... even if only for a day... is the right idea."
A broad winged vulture drifted by. In the distance, a vague V of geese spotted the lake and began a lazy approach, their distorted voices blowing in on an errant breeze.
Izuku breathed in the minty, clean scent of pine and considered closing his eyes, then thought better of it.
"Ramming speed, ladies!" Arch yelled, finally attracting Epona's attention, although Influx must indeed have known of the threat given how quickly she reached for her paddle to push Arch away, shouting very unladylike things all the while.
"Well, I want no part in that drama. I could use a hammock," Izuku decided. "Or is it warm enough to swim?"
"No," Arch yelled from halfway across the lake. How exactly he had heard Izuku's musing was unclear. "It is never warm enough to swim in a lake like this."
"Oh well. Hammock then."
"I might want to get in on this swing," Kuma decided, getting to her feet.
Chikara shrugged and began rummaging for additional skipping stones.
It would be nice if it could last forever, this perfect afternoon. Even the mosquitoes kept their distance, as if they had been specifically asked not to spoil the mood.
Influx and Epona made good progress escaping from Arch. Kuma threatened Cloud Viper into surrendering his swing. Chikara failed to skip his second stone. "Terrible, that one," their leader muttered, but smiled none the less. How long had it been since Izuku saw him smile like that? Like everything was right in the world... or everything save the concerning lack of proper skipping stones, anyway.
If only it could last forever, this one moment where everyone was happy. If only he could end it here rather than hang on to see the darkness at the end of the tunnel.
"Oh come on," Izuku complained as an alarm woke him. "I never even got to the hammock. Same as I never got to finish bowling with Arch."
"What?" Oh. Nishida was here, and awake, too. Right.
"I was having a really great dream," Izuho sighed, rolling out of his bunk and fetching a uniform. "I think dreams have been the nicest part of this whole year."
"It will get better," Nishida promised.
Izuho raised an eyebrow. "I know you read between the lines of the news same as I do, Nishida," maybe not as much as Izuku, but still. "You know things are not looking up at all." The PLF had taken a beating on the battlefields in the last week. A number of factors had contributed to the loss of ground and troops, including increasing resistance in occupied territory, another raid by Isomorph and War Dog getting up to some of her old tricks, but perhaps the most important influence had been Lemillion returning to field and being really mad, far angrier than Izuku could have previously imagined. Reading between those lines, it seemed pretty clear that Lemillion's friend Suneater had been killed by Shigaraki at the Battle of UA. People like Aizawa and Lemillion... the PLF's most dangerous foes were the ones that went into battle thinking of companions who died at Shigaraki's hand. Izuku was one of those dead companions, wasn't he? Yeah, probably for several different people at that.
Nishida shook his head, trying to instill optimism he did not feel in an effort to cheer poor Izuho out of his slump. "You heard Shigaraki yesterday. He has something up his sleeve, I'm sure."
"Maybe," Izuho replied. Hopefully not.
Lakes in Canada and raid parties turned into bowling parties... Even in the heart of their war the MLA generals found a few moments of joy.
"What I wouldn't give to go bowling with some friends right now," Izuku sighed. "Just one last time." Hopefully Nishida hadn't heard that part.
Izuho stepped out onto the familiar catwalk, dragging his feet and dreaming about the late night snack in store for him as soon as his shift finally ended.
"Well, I never," Kyudai said, stunned. Izuho froze, watching the static on the screen begin to take a definite shape. Shigaraki covered his eyes with his hands, breathing deeply, humming to himself from time to time. Fossa halted his patrol, somehow sure he needed to be here now regardless of any potential consequences. Transfixed by the drama in the paradox field, nobody paid Fossa any mind. A minute passed... two... five... The static on the screen faded, a definite image taking form.
"It's working!" Shigaraki crowed, finally opening his eyes to regard the fruits of his labor in the visualization screen which showed--
Izuku's chest froze, a breath left in limbo in his throat. Oh my god. That was All For One. How? He was dead. Had the HPSC lied about that? No. No... that chair... The Soulstealer was bound in place, fighting against his restrains almost desperately as a man in a white lab coat prepared a syringe--
This was All For One's execution. Oh it all made sense, why the PLF needed this weird paradox field, why this portal had taken months to build when pure teleportation seemed so easy for them, why Shigaraki and Dr. Kyudai were both so impatient, so desperate to get the thing to work as the
tide of war turned against them--
It wasn't a machine for reaching across space, it was a machine for reaching across time. That was why it had that weird, paradoxical side-effect of nearly splitting the time stream when Shigaraki changed his mind while standing in the permissive paradox field--because the entire machine was designed to create paradoxes, to allow someone to be stolen out of the past, snatched away from death and brought to this moment to live anew.
All For One turned his head towards the screen, somehow sensing the gazes upon him despite missing eyes of his own. A grin began to spread over the Soulstealer's shattered face, slow and sinister like rabies taking hold in the nerves and spreading towards the brainstem without raising a single alarm from the doomed host. In the paradox field energy crackled, turning to static and beginning to take the shadowy shape of a seated man.
Well. This was the moment Fossa had waited for, wasn't it? Forget assassinating Kyudai. If Shigaraki managed to summon All For One back from the dead... not only would that be a devastating blow against the Chain given the kind of things All For One could do, but it would be an intolerable insult to everything Izuku believed and fought for. The Soulstealer's death had settled something at least for the generals of the MLA who had died by All For One's hand. The death of Kuma's murderer would. Be. Final. The Soulstealer wouldn't get away this time.
Nobody was watching Fossa. The entire room stood stock-still and transfixed, gazing in awe as the static slowly solidified and began to move.
Fossa tiptoed forward until he was directly adjacent to the permissive paradox field then changed course and vaulted over the catwalk's flimsy guard rail. Time slowed as he drifted downwards, milking the element of surprise for all it was worth and kicking Shigaraki's head as hard as he could as he passed by.
Fossa fell to a rough landing as the PLF's grand commander staggered backwards out of the paradox field. Fossa wasn't instantly shot because it hadn't occurred to anyone to do so yet, but he had only seconds before Stain--yeah, that was Stain lurking behind a cart in the corner--or another Krypteia agent put a weapon to good use.
All For One vanished from the paradox field and the screen as if he had never been.
Izuku concentrated with all his mind and heart. It must be similar to how he used his quirk, summoning up not just the images of a specific place and time but the associated emotions as well. He reached for the childhood magic, for the films he'd watched a thousand times, trying to bring the scenes to life. All Might. He needed All Might from his prime. What day, what time? What version of All Might? He needed those things to solidify in his mind exactly to make the machine work, right? This technique had taken Shigaraki days, weeks, to learn and Fossa had seconds--he couldn't think of anything, couldn't visualize anything, and Shigaraki had tried so hard to learn to do this. How could Izuku expect to make it work on command--because he didn't have a choice. No choice. It had to work. He probably had a fraction of a second now. It just had to work or all of this was for nothing! His only chance at victory, the only way he could keep the PLF from rebuilding and trying again to resurrect All For One, was to use Kyudai's machine against them, summon an enemy from the past who could take on Shigaraki and win
The spiraling panic wasn't helping in the least. Calm down, think. He couldn't concentrate on a version of All Might to summon. There was no use trying to force it; it wasn't going to work, same as he hadn't been able to save Hawks with his quirk no matter how hard he tried. These emotions would not come on command. So, he couldn't concentrate on All Might. What could he concentrate on?
"What the hell are you doing?" Shigaraki snarled, getting to his feet and tugging off a glove with his teeth.
No visions of All Might came to mind. There was only one day that stuck out to him, only one place and time that Izuku felt he could reach out and touch. He saw it all so clearly. Tuesday... The scent of frying food, of wax, fresh rain and decidedly less fresh rain-soaked shoes, the whole alley echoing with a chorus of friendly, though wary, voices. Rivalries came to a head. Mind readers circumvented it all. Pins fell with a clatter and a man with fiery hair stood ready to take his turn at last, rolling his eyes at his generals' antics--
The building cacophony of angry shouting cut off with a chorus of gasps. Izuku blinked open his eyes and nearly fell to his knees. He forced himself to breathe, too afraid to think or feel lest he break the spell.
A bowling ball held casually in one hand, hair neatly pulled back into a sprawling pony tail, expression calm despite what must have been a huge shock, Destro remained in the center of the paradox field, eyes flicking rapidly from side to side as he took in the situation with blistering intelligence, rapidly calculating every possible outcome.
"And who the fuck are you?" Shigaraki yelled.