It was hard to process, standing so close to Destro, the real, living Chikara that he could reach out and touch with his own two hands that he actually owned, hands he had not merely borrowed from another's history. He had never imagined it, never imagined meeting his friend outside an inherited vision. One of Izuku's hands reached forward without thought--no. No, he couldn't think of Destro as Chikara, or Chris, much as he might like to. Destro didn't know Izuku. They weren't friends. In Destro's view they weren't even allies.
Strangers.
For some reason that thought ached like a stab wound, nearly overwhelming the elation.
Destro stared at Shigaraki with an expression usually reserved for rotting fruit. Izuku was so accustomed to Shigaraki's absurd... clothing choices... which more often than not included at least a few taxidermy hands, that it had ceased to disturb him. The PLF leader was in full regalia tonight, complete with a hand masking his face. Destro, seeing the psychotic spectacle for the first time, curled his lip in revulsion.
Destro took in the rest of the room, the haphazard construction materials, the growling machinery, the uniformed guards, then turned towards the doctor. "Garaki Kyudai?" Destro narrowed his eyes, scrutenizing the hunched form. "You look terrible. What have you done to yourself this time?"
They knew each other. Right. Kuma didn't know the name of All For One's doctor friend, or didn't remember, but Destro did, or did he? Did he actually know this man was an ally of All For One or
had the two met in some other context? Hopefully it was the former. That would make the situation so much easier to explain.
"You will tell me who you are!" Shigaraki repeated his demand, practically foaming at the mouth, as both of his gloves fluttered to the floor like dead leaves. "What have you done?" he waved an accusing finger at Fossa who couldn't quite resist the urge to smirk.
Destro raised an eyebrow at this display, glancing about the room to read everyone's expression in turn. Stain clearly knew who had just appeared like magic in the PLF's secret basement. The assassin's eyes were wide with shock. If Izuku had to lay a wager, about half of the people in the room recognized Destro on sight, a quarter knew him from somewhere but couldn't place him, and a quarter were clueless.
Destro's eyes fixed on Izuho where he shakily stood less than two meters away. What expression did the leader of the MLA see on Izuku's face? Relief? Awe? Longing? "You certainly know me," Destro said.
"Yes, general Destro," he replied automatically, the shock of Chikara actually speaking to Izuku not enough to break Fossa's discipline.
"Destro?" a bewildered voice hissed from somewhere behind Izuku and to his left. The doctor gestured frantically for Shigaraki to step towards him. All For One's protegee, after some hesitation, complied. They began to whisper to each other. There wasn't any way for Fossa to stop them much as he didn't like giving them the chance to collude.
"You're very happy to see me," Destro continued to Izuku, every word feeling like a freely offered bar of gold. Destro still took in the room even as he spoke, assessing every threat and every potential exit. "You were expecting me. You're the only one who was expecting me. Who are you?"
What should he say? This was... how could he possibly explain any of this? He hadn't had the time to think anything through! He'd had seconds to act and it was astounding that he'd made it this far. It was a miracle Fossa wasn't dead right now. "I was a Switchblade," Izuku said, trying to pack as much meaning as he could into a few sentences before Shigaraki lost his patience and the situation deteriorated, "it was a good experience. We did a lot of damage to All For One."
"Switchblade," Stain repeated to himself, narrowing his eyes. "You!" the Hero Killer roared, lunging forward like a missile as he finally, finally, recognized Fossa. "You should be dead!"
Destro growled, the calligraphy of mask-like marks across his face darkening to black with his anger. The emotion manifested around him into a massive, ethereal-paw of tar and ruby that batted Stain across the room at the swipe of Chikara's hand. Stain crashed into a cargo crate with a splintering crunch, groaned, and fell silent.
That was... Why was Destro willing to defend Fossa just like that? Fossa had expected to be in a fight to the death with Stain in moments, forced to let Destro come to his own conclusions about the situation. After all, how could Destro know whose side the spy was on without further context? Was Izuku's assertion that he was a loyal Switchblade and Stain's repetition of the term prior to his attack enough to convince Destro Izuku was on his side or was this merely a show of force, the general's way of communicating clearly to the room that he was powerful and dangerous and they ought not start anything just yet, the martial equivalent of shouting, "let's not be hasty!" The later seemed more likely.
"Where's your boss, Garaki?" Destro asked, arms crossed. "I don't like dealing with cannon
fodder." Izuku couldn't help but snigger at the expression on Shigaraki's face, but something in Destro's tone... Chikara was scared, not enough to let it show to anyone who didn't know him, but quite frightened and rightly so. He had just been snatched out of thin air, no warning, no possibility for rescue or backup, and dumped into a creepy factory full of hostile soldiers. Worse still, he believed All For One was here. Chikara's only potential ally in the room was Fossa, the one who seemed to be responsible for summoning Destro to this objectively bad situation in the first place.
Wow. Izuku really could have made a better first impression if he'd had a few minutes to think this through.
"Boss?" Shigaraki hissed, "I am Shigaraki Tomura. I am the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front. I'm Kyudai's boss! I'm everyone's boss!"
"Your boss, then, All For One," Destro waved his hand dismissively.
Shigaraki's eyes bulged. "I am in charge here you miserable failure, you--you irrelevant piece of history! Now get back into that light," Shigaraki snarled, gesturing to the paradox field which Destro had subtly stepped away from as he spoke, "and you," the PLF's leader pointed at Fossa as the spy felt the barrels of a dozen guns finally level themselves at his chest, "will concentrate like you did before and send him right back where he came from!"
Destro quirked an incredulous eyebrow. "You don't seem to be very smart," he began. Wow. Izuku hadn't realized it was possible for a face to twist like that, regardless of its owner's fury. Shigaraki looked as if he had a crocodile mutation. "But just because you aren't very smart doesn't mean you can assume everyone around you is an idiot." Ah... Izuku got to hear a bit of this trash-talk in Switcher's memories but it was so deliciously special to witness in person. "The only thing I know about you is that you are an ally of my enemy. I'm not inclined to do anything you tell me to, rather the opposite honestly."
"You... you relic!" Shigaraki snarled, lunging forward but stopping himself when Kyudai pulled pleadingly on his sleeve.
"You'll break the machine!" the doctor warned. "We need it for--" he cut himself off abruptly.
"This machine?" Destro asked, assessing the steel and concrete behemoth and balking in disgust at the tanks of nomu required to power it. "For what?"
"To resurrect All For One," Izuku told his leader.
Destro actually spluttered. "What?" It must sound insane out of context.
"It's a time-travel device," Izuku filled in as quickly as he could.
"Shut it!" Shigaraki screamed at him but Izuku continued, undeterred.
"All For One is dead now, but they were trying to change that with the machine--"
"Shoot him!" Shigaraki snarled. Destro's mask darkened further and a whip of solid emotion, icy- blue protectiveness, purple curiosity and a hint of silvery fear, swirled around Izuku in a weightless cloak, shielding him from the barrage. The bullets bounced back like skipping stones rippling off the surface of a pond.
Izuku stepped closer to Chris, unable to stay away even as he forced himself not to reach out and touch the man he could never truly claim as a friend.
"I changed the time-travel coordinates at the last minute," the spy shouted to be heard over the explosive rings of automatic weapon fire. "You were the only one I could think of who might be able to stop Shigaraki! He's crazy and obsessed with All For One and he can kill with a touch!"
"Shoot them both!" Shigaraki shrieked, voice nearly cracking.
Some hesitated. Others shot futilely. The storm of bullets lasted only a handful of seconds as Dr. Kyudai screeched warnings and tried to calm Shigaraki.
In the lull that followed the second barrage of explosions and whistling steel, when only the whirring of the machine and humming of the floodlights remained, one brave voice shouted, "Shoot him? Are you mad? I'm not going to shoot him; he's Destro. " A guard from one of Izuho's sister units, a woman tall and thin as a pencil, continued, " he's the leader of the MLA and I joined the MLA before it became the PLF. By my reckoning, he's my leader."
Was this woman there when Camie made her final speech? It would be nice if this little rebellion were part of Camie's legacy, if there were something left of her in this world that had so cruelly rejected her.
Shigaraki was going to explode any second. "You will die for that traitor! I am in charge here! The PLF, the MLA, they are all mine! All of you are mine! Either you're with me or you're with the Chain and you know what we do to Chain spies around here! That little cheater," he jabbed a finger at Fossa, "will find out soon enouch and now you'll go to the nomu labs with him. We'll put you to use like quirkless scum!" He gestured to a Krypteia agent to arrest the woman who had dared to speak up. Nobody in the Krypteia was swayed by the appearance of Destro; all of the Krypteia were handpicked, loyal to Shigaraki and Shigaraki alone. The others, however... some had doubts.
"Quirkless scum," Destro whispered under his breath, searching the words for meaning. Chikara's eyes flicked back and forth rapidly as if he were speed reading an intelligence report. The term "quirked" and its counterpart "quirkless" hadn't been in common use in Destro's time, with "meta human" and "non-meta" or "gen" being far more common, but Destro understood all too well what the man claiming to lead the MLA had just asserted. The emotional shield he held about him darkened, scarlet and black bleeding through it as Chris put the pieces together.
"Time travel? Really?" the general asked Izuku, only a hint of incredulity remaining in his voice.
"Yes, general. You see how old the doctor is now," Izuku whispered back. "I can't prove it to you, not really, but for what it's worth I inherited some of Switcher's memories. I remember him meeting you for the first time on the stone arch bridge over the Mississippi." There were probably so many better facts he could bring up to try to prove himself, but somehow this one, one of the very oldest, was the only memory that came to mind.
"Even I barely remember that," Destro muttered.
Destro took an assertive step towards the woman who had spoken up and the Krypteia agents approaching her hesitated. "You joined the MLA? Before it became the PLF... led by a minion of All For One?" Destro clarified, his lip curling.
"Yes, general," the guard snapped to attention much as Izuku had earlier.
"It's not your MLA, Destro," Izuku said quietly. "They don't remember you, not really, only a twisted icon. Saint Destro, not Yotsubashi Chikara or Chris." If Destro was startled to hear his American alias he didn't show it. "They're meta human supremacists and the PLF are war criminals. They've killed countless non-metas for the crime of existing."
Destro sighed deeply, but his face had blanked as if this were no real surprise to him, and of course it wasn't. He'd seen all of this before, after all. Little girls thrown into pit mines... atrocities were eternal. "But not you."
"I'm Switcher's man," Izuku replied honestly. Switcher might not know Izuku was his man but that made little difference. "He still remembers you, and so do I."
"So you're a spy and a traitor," Destro spelled it out.
"Proudly," and, despite everything, despite Wakiya and Dark Shadow and Arashiro and Camie, despite every horror along the way, it was the truth.
More softly, almost hesitant, Destro asked, "and All For One is really dead?"
"Yes, general. He was executed." Izuku made no attempt to hide his glee. All For One was dead
and he was going to stay that way damn it, if it were the very last thing Fossa did.
Destro believed him. It was obvious because the silvery fright faded from the field of emotions wrapped around him. If All For One were not around anymore... Destro was confident he could handle the rest of this mess.
"What's your endgame here?" Destro asked Fossa bluntly.
"Enough of this!" Shigaraki snarled. "Kill them all! Destro, the green haired one, the other traitor. We can make nomu of all of them afterward!"
"Shigaraki wait!" the doctor tried to protest, but the man child's patience had run out.
The MLA leader finally remembered his bowling ball. "Here, hold this," he handed it to Izuku. Shigaraki sprinted towards them in a gray blur. Chikara growled low in his throat, righteous rage and vengeful hatred filling the air about him in a wave of red and black like mottled lava, a power that manifested both as force and induced emotions wickedly tearing into one's chest and skull so that everyone both saw and felt how furious Destro was. Destro unwound his power into a gargoyle that towered half way to the ceiling, the man in control barely visible beneath the volcanic glow, white-scarlet whips crackling in lightning arcs from taloned, spectral hands. Like Typhon returning to kill the gods, Destro roared with the voice of a thunderstorm, lights throughout the room flickering at the force.
That war cry was even more amazing in person... enemies on the field used to freeze in terror when they heard it. Some froze now, too.
Shigaraki snarled and sped forward, striking Destro's extended form with the force of a bomb, the hit solid enough to draw a grunt and force Chikara to take a step back. That would probably bruise.
What was Izuku thinking just standing here? Was he insane?
Fossa dived for cover behind a pile of bags of concrete, half of which were open. A cloud of dust rose in his wake, but that was nothing compared to the dust falling from the ceiling as one of Destro's rage-whips licked up against a support beam. The beam in question was dangerously close to the time-travel device.
"Don't break the machine yet! Don't break the machine yet! I have to send you back after!" Fossa screamed above the sudden cacophony of two of the most powerful quirked individuals ever to live dueling to the death in a confined space while a handful of scientists fled like rats from a sinking ship and two dozen guards weighed their loyalties very seriously before deciding whether to shoot
each other.
Destro pulled his emotional cage more tightly about himself, the gargoyle shrinking and all the colors growing more intense, the red bright as a star and the black darker than empty space. Tucked in close like this, Destro's power could block nearly any physical attack and many quirks as well. Spread to its furthest reach, it became more of a three dimensional grid, solid only on the lines and nothing but mist in between. Shigaraki threw himself against Destro, fingers groping for purchase on a field of force and finding nothing to disintegrate. Shigaraki did land another nasty kick, knocking Destro back a few feet.
The MLA leader slashed a ruby whip towards Shigaraki's face, singeing across his hand-mask and only narrowly missing an eye. The man-child shrieked, staggering back and very nearly losing his head as Destro allowed his manifestation to quadruple in size, giving him a terrifying reach and thirty centimeter talons. The swipe drew further blood, but Shigaraki was fast enough to keep his neck intact. A barrage of bullets and emitter quirks from Krypteia agents forced Destro to duck and pull his field in closely again.
"Oh you're going to get it!" Shigaraki screamed in rage and lunged. The two titans tumbled to the ground, grappling for a moment before Destro threw his assailant off and a brief, rapid series of jabs, evasions, and whip-cracks followed.
Despite Shigaraki's healing factor, bruising strength, and allegedly deadly touch, the MLA's leader was not impressed. Chikara had fought many people with kill-on-touch quirks before. He knew what he was doing.
"Why won't you just die already?" Shigaraki snarled, reaching for a support beam that held up one of the rooms original, heavier catwalks. The beam rusted through a thousand years in seconds and the whole structure plummeted, several guards and a half ton of steel careening towards Destro's head.
Chikara sidestepped, shaking off small pieces of debris without comment, and snapped a whip towards Shigaraki's ankle.
Izuku's jaw was hanging open. How long had he been staring at the spectacle like this? His heart beat in his throat, fed by adrenaline but not fear. Destro would never lose a fight like this and oh how Izuku wanted to savor every little piece of it, wanted to watch and cheer as Shigaraki finally got what he deserved, as all of Izuku's own struggles and the struggles of his generals paid off, as Destro sent the last pieces of the Soulstealer's legacy to their doom--wait. What was Fossa thinking zoning out like this? Destro wouldn't lose, but if Fossa were killed who would send the MLA leader home again? And where was the doctor? He might be the bigger threat here. What if the machine's effect could be reversed another way?
Dr. Kyudai had tottered his way to the main control panel for the time-machine--his usual post-- and begun frantically adjusting dials. That couldn't be good. Fossa set the bowling ball aside and charged, head down, praying not to catch a stray bullet. The spy tackled the elderly man to the ground. "You--you madman!" Kyudai snarled at him. "Who knows what effect this will have on the timeline! We were careful with All For One, fetching him from his last moment where nothing could be changed--what have you done?"
"Stopped you," Fossa snarled in reply. "What else matters? I'll send Destro back when he's through setting things right!"
"Shigaraki will kill him," Kyudai said as Fossa dragged the both of them behind a crate to get some cover from a plasma-cutter quirk that had swung in their direction as a result of a mishap in a fight
between an MLA-loyalist guard and two Krypteia agents. "Everything will change! You've no idea what this will do to the world, the universe!"
Fossa laughed. "Destro won't lose. You think Shigaraki has a chance? Have you forgotten the MLA war? Shigaraki's scary, sure, but he's also a spoiled brat with no patience and no creativity. He's no Arkady."
As if on cue, Shigaraki snarled, "you cheater! Cheater! Stop it!" after barely escaping one of Destro's terrible, taloned paws.
A Krypteia agent careened over the crate and Fossa, finger on the trigger of his weapon before he even registered the attack, sent a hail of bullets into the man's body armor. "Oof," his opponent snarled and then Fossa was forced to leap forward, headbutting the attacker in the unyielding chest while dodging a knife.
A bullet struck Fossa square in the back--stopped by his own body armor--with enough force to take the breath from his lungs and knock both him and his Krypteia opponent to the ground. Somewhere in the distance the roar of collapsing masonry drowned out Shigaraki's swearing.
Fossa found himself pinned to the ground with clawed hands at his throat--so fast--but he knew how to escape this with a throw and did so without thought for the shallow cuts around his neck and shoulders.
The Krypteia agent rolled to his feet, snarling and ready for another round--a bullet ripped through his neck. From clear across the chaos, the guard after Camie's heart threw Fossa a salute.
Destro took control of the fight, pushing Shigaraki steadily backwards towards the north-west corner, relentlessly jabbing and slashing and mostly putting the whipping tendrils of emotion to deadly work. That half of the room was an unrecognizable heap of disintegration dust and twisted metal, large chunks of the ceiling and walls strewn about like playing cards. The dueling titans had kept well clear of the machine so far... although it had definitely been caught by a stray bullet or two. Damn it. Damn it. What was Fossa going to do if Destro ended up stuck here? It had seemed, in his memory of the bowling alley incident, like a closed time loop. As far as he knew, Destro arrived in the future, stayed for a few minutes, and was promptly sent home, but did it have to happen like that? Did the loop have to close or would a different outcome result in the formation of a new timeline, a new reality?
What happened to the old reality if the loop didn't close? Did that world cease to exist? Was Kyudai right about the peril Izuku had unleashed on the universe?
Time-travel wasn't even supposed to be a real thing, was it? He'd never heard of a quirk that could do this! How the hell should anybody, let alone Izuku, know how it was supposed to work? How should anybody know what was and wasn't safe?
The machine hissed steam from some buried system, hopefully nothing too important. Weapon fire and quirk-fire roasted through dust-thick air which noticeably increased in temperature.
Where was Kyudai now? Fossa couldn't see him anywhere. Damn it, damn it, he'd slipped away, probably out that narrow hallway to the secondary incinerator and Fossa dared not follow him, not with the situation out here so precarious.
"No!" Shigaraki screamed, staring at what must have been one of his favorite Krypteia guards, now an unrecognizable heap following an encounter with Destro's whips. "Oh, you'll pay for that! You'll pay! Pay! It doesn't matter," the PLF's leader landed a blow powerful enough to send
Destro sprawling back, all be it the leader of the MLA was back on his feet in an instant. "I'll kill you and the little traitor bitch then I'll get my Sensei and my guards from the machine. Maybe then I'll summon you back to life just to torture you to death again. Or maybe I'll just make you a nomu. Wouldn't that be good for morale? The old leader returns to the battlefields once more!"
Destro's reply, short so as not to distract him from the fight, was, "and I thought the original was crazy." With an elegant feint and a sweep of a massive paw, Destro sent Shigaraki careening through a set of supports, a section of scaffolding collapsing on top of him in a screech of twisted steel.
More guards arrived, pouring through every available door, shouting and still more weapon fire adding to the cacophony of another structural collapse and then Shigaraki, bruised and bleeding but healing quickly, disintegrated the rubble around him and launched himself into the air, putting his superhuman strength and agility to good use to escape from the corner to which Destro had driven him. He ought to have put his back against the wall and fought to reclaim ground.
"That was stupid," Izuku whispered.
Once you've launched yourself like that, there's no way to correct course. When your opponent has a whip of any kind... Destro cocked his head. "Amateur," he might have said, although it was too loud to make out clearly.
A twisting whip of ruby lightning lashed out and caught Shigaraki out of mid air, coiling around him and holding him in place. Dozens of guns fired. Destro threw out a hand and a second whip. The catwalk where the majority of Chikara's attackers stood--one of only three remaining by that point--collapsed into a pile of twisted rubble with the lucky guards leaping clear and the rest being crushed.
Shigaraki squirmed, kicking and clawing and even biting. Destro winced at the force but did not relent, clutching tighter, his clenching hand mirroring the action of the emotional field. Destro drew Shigaraki closer and swiped at him with a dark paw, but the PLF leader still had a hand free and defended himself, punching and pushing back. Destro growled from within the center of his lava-glow storm, the marks across his face turning darker still and his power running more bloody red than black as he drew on every drop of fury to give him strength.
The hail of gunfire had ceased by then, even the hand to hand fights slowing to a halt as the sizeable crowd stared on in some awestruck mix of horror and wonder.
Shigaraki swore, gasping for breath as he struggled to break free. Destro panted, squeezing his fist tighter. Chikara swiped at Shigaraki again. Shigaraki managed another counter, but it was weaker, and Destro channeled the frustration of the failure into greater power still, actually screaming in wordless, bloodthirsty rage. Shigaraki threw back his head, choking, unable to draw a breath. The PLF leader squirmed ineffectually, screamed a half-audible cry for something, likely help. "Sen," he gasped.
One brave Krypteia agent tried to intervene, bull rushing the combatants. Destro killed her without even looking. A second agent raised a hand, telegraphing an imminent emitter quirk discharge. Fossa shot him in the throat without a thought.
This moment should not be interrupted. It was about the leader of the MLA and the leader of the PLF and everybody else should stay out of it.
Shigaraki's movements slowed. He twisted his head in all directions, bloodshot eyes seeking deliverance, some miracle, even as his gasps grew more desperate and madness shone in his eyes.
The PLF leader's gaze roved to Stain--unconscious--the machine's controls--abandoned--and then to Fossa. Shigaraki's eyes widened further still, some spark of recognition cutting through the madness.
Izuku met the monster's gaze dispassionately. All the pain, all the rage, all the horror Shigaraki had inflicted upon Izuku, upon his friends, his allies, his country... his enemies... all the pain All For One had caused before his protegee, a legacy of murder and havoc, of gleefully embracing the basest pieces of the human soul... a hundred year reign of terror came to an end today. Izuku had no feelings large enough to encompass it all. In this crushing silence as the entire world held its breath, there was no room for Izuku's passion.
"You," Shigaraki choked out. "Me," Izuku agreed.
Destro lashed out, aim true as a laser sight, and this time Shigaraki did not have the strength to counter, the PLF leader's single free hand grasping futilely for something to disintegrate.
Claws of emotion-born light struck flesh with an obscenely satisfying snick as of sharp scissors through crisp cardstock.
Shigaraki's head hit the ground.
Nobody dared breathe.
Destro uncoiled his whip and the rest of Shigaraki fell at his feet.