Hi guys! Here I am, with a brand spanking new chapter for you all! You know the drill, I don't own Type-Moon or MHA, read, review, moo, yodelayheehoo!

Many thanks to Santo (SB), Swiftest(SB) and Old Man of the Mountain (Discord) for betaing!

BONG!

He hears it with the utmost clarity.

He, who had secluded himself in his solar in the last years of his life and devoted the entirety of his being to the scriptures, hears the familiar ringing which so many of his enemies had heard.

It was absolute. It was finality. The will of the divine manifesting itself for scant moments, leaving a deep echo in its wake.

The time has come. Allah is calling for him.

BONG!

The last breath in his lungs leaves his frail body. The final vestiges of strength and consciousness flicker out like a dying candle.

His eyes close.

Immediately, two hooded faithful enter the solar. They gaze at the body, their heads hanging low. Shrouding his body with dark cloth, they pick him up by the head and legs and begin walking down the stairs.

BONG!

Into a room filled with water, they enter. With careful hands, they lower him and wash him. On a table, there is a silk sheet of pure white. A color fitting for the holiest of men. With nary a tremble in their hands, they drape it over his now-clean form. Onto a palanquin, he is lowered and hoisted on their shoulders.

BONG!

As they traverse the fortress, more followers walk out of their rooms, their heads bowed and fingers tracing the sheet. When the men arrive at the central chamber, everyone has gathered, their position irrelevant; servant, warrior, scholar, and fid'ai, all have come to witness.

The men lay the body on the floor and stand aside, so that all of the faithful may gaze upon it before the maqam is revealed. And with a mournful cry, they call out to the heavens:

"Mat muasisuna almawlaa Hasan Alsabahi! Marat fi hidn Mllahi! Sabihuu asmah muhamad wallah!"

BONG!

A great cry rises from the gathered crowd, prayers and chants reverberating throughout the stone structure.

And thus, was written in the book of life: Hassan-i Sabbah, scholar, priest, and teacher above all, has passed away.

BONG!

…

…

…

Darkness. Light. Shadow. Fire. The soft breath of the wind. The distant fluttering of wings.

A cold wisp drifts away from his masked visage.

The world before him…is different. Black, blue and white blend together, swirling in a kaleidoscope of discord. Yet he sees, understands it all. His form is in his prime, no longer the decaying corpse he was seemingly moments prior.

Above all, the sword in his hand, naught but a weathered iron slab…there is a sharpness to it that seemingly no man could replicate.

As he gazes upwards unto the heavens, the answer descends upon him:

Allah has recognized his loyal servant's efforts. This is his reward.

He would be elevated beyond Jannah. Fused with one of His mightiest servants, his blade shall end those beyond humanity and his people, seeking to do them harm.

For a moment, it seems as though he might weep.

The shadows morph and a familiar sight reveals itself: the chamber where had begun to instill his legacy. Flanked by torches and darkness, fid'ai bow before one of their own, hooded and cloaked.

The disciple raises his head, the bone-white mask seemingly glowing with zealous fire.

Ah…yes.

His legacy.

The Hashashin will endure. Hassan-i Sabbah, once a simple scholar of Qom might have perished, buried underneath stone and earth, but the Shayk al-Jabal, the Old Man of the Mountain, shall live on.

So he watched. Watched as the one who inherited his name carry on his will, serving as the tip of the blade that was the Order. His skill as sharp as the day he blessed, his youth merely improving upon it. Yet, as the years pass, and the youth makes the path his own…

…drowning out the songs of the Valley, he cannot help the tingling of doubt whispering in his ear.

This isn't my first time doing a scouting mission, far from it.

I look at the ornate house while leaning on a nearby tree, idly noting the bush beside me.

And the location is far more preferable compared to the other hellholes I've been to. Clean, and maintained, it even has a Zen sort of feel to it. Not counting the little garden in the back of course.

Then why do I feel like a creep?

'I do not see the reason for thy complaints, contractor. Were thou not the one who suggested this endeavor?'

'Yeah, but I didn't expect it to feel this weird!'

'Perhaps it is because thou art not seeing her as a true target. If thou truly wish to proceed with this, change thy outlook. Or wouldst thou prefer to be in thy domicile doing nothing but wasting thy mind away?'

Ignoring the jab at my favorite digital pastime, I sigh. 'Yeah, I know. But aren't you curious as well? I remember you sounding worried when we talked about it.'

No response. Point to me. Better cherish it while I can.

I look again at the house. I notice a couple of women moving through an open-walled hallway; from the way they were dressed, probably maids. Not the kinky French version, but like the old daimyo style I saw a few times in History class.

A shiver idly goes up my spine; yeah, just as I thought, Makoto-sensei wasn't too happy with me ditching a school day. But she didn't yell, nor call me to her desk. No, she had that calm gaze that promised a sudden and painful retaliation sometime in the future. Kind of like what Mawla promises if I don't take my training seriously, only a billion times more menacing.

How is it that my homeroom teacher felt far more dangerous than the founder of Assassins himself!?

Mawla, of course, said nothing. He knows something. He always does.

Anyway, since then I try to keep any missions to the weekends. I'll probably renege on that promise but it eases my conscience. Somewhat.

Wait.

There.

Walking through that open walkway, wearing a dark-blue yukata, was her. The person who, out of all of the potential targets I could've scouted today, piqued my interest.

Shiki Ryougi.

As she enters a separate section of the building, I tread forward, making sure to stay out of her line of sight.

Why her? It's not because she killed a criminal; again, I'm avoiding hypocrisy as much as I can. The best way to put it is…there's something off about her.

She goes through a pair of sliding doors. Instead of following her in, I circle around and peek through wooden-barred windows inside. Mats of tatami cover the floor and a set of kendo gear leans against one of the walls. This must be the dojo. She walks in and bows before an older man. Probably a family member or a teacher. They both go to a rack and each pick off a sword. Not a shinai or a bokken, but an actual katana. Unsheathing the blades, they bow to each other again and take a stance. With not even a cue, the man moves first.

I'm not just talking about the fact that she can see through my Concealment or, if what Mawla says is true (not that I think he's lying, it's just it sounds a little too far-fetched, even considering his…circumstances), somehow warp the veil between life and death. I could've settled on those two reasons alone and eased my mind.

Clangs of metal fill the air as the two spar. She is utterly focused, never taking her eyes off the man. He slashes upwards, she pushes sideways. She thrusts forward, so does he. He advances forward, she goes down and swings high. It's like what Mawla always says: make not a single wasted movement. And the speed at which she moves…

Another possible reason for caution. But it's not the main one. I just hope that Mawla isn't listening in. Why?

Because I wouldn't know what to answer.

She pushes forward with her attacks, her calm expression giving way to one with a hint of frustration. Why does it feel so out of place?

Too late.

The man pivots to the side and knocks the blade out of her hand. With a crack from the hilt, she falls to the floor. The blade is pointed at her before she can react.

I lightly crouch as I bite my lip. No, not now. Making sure to keep my head low – Concealment or no, I am not getting caught by her thrice – I peek over the window's edge. Apart from a slight huff, so faint that without my Quirk I probably wouldn't have heard it, she gets up and bows to the man before placing the sword back in the rack.

'Impressive. Nearly flawless form, even more so than her sire.'

'That was her dad?' Makes sense. 'You know kenjutsu or kendo?'

'No, but I have seen many swordsmen, both crusader and Muslim perform their art. The finer details may be different, but there are many similarities, especially in regards to the latter. And I can say for certain that if not for her gender, she would've been made an elite fighter in any army of my time.'

'You got all that from one spar?'

'Who between us has been teaching others for two centuries?'

'Point.'

She heads out of the dojo and I follow. She steps out into the garden and sits on a stone bench in front of a clear pond. She closes her eyes and begins taking deep breaths. Hiding behind the trunk of a nearby tree, I watch.

'Hmm…unusual.'

'Oh? As in, 'like that time' unusual?'

'The opposite. I cannot sense anything from her. Looking at her now, I would have thought her a simply exceptional warrior and nothing more if we did not know otherwise.'

'Maybe whatever she has is like a Quirk? It has to be activated or something?'

'Possibly. The more important question is, what are thy plans now? Unless thou art planning on observing her entire routine today, I have failed to understand thy objective for this excursion.'

I frown. 'Didn't you hear my thoughts?'

'While it may seem like it to thee, I do not ruminate on every thought that passes through thy brain, for both our sakes.'

I shudder. Yeah, some thoughts should definitely remain private. I look down at the grass, swaying in the breeze. 'I just want to see what's so odd about her. From the way you described it, messing with the…veil of life and death – can't believe I'm saying that in a real-life context by the way – isn't something we can just ignore. That, and Dabi doesn't have anything new for me. He says everyone down in the gutters have gone quiet since the USJ failure.'

'So, thy reason is boredom?'

I try and fight down the heat rising through my body, to no avail '…maybe a little.'

What? Is it a crime to do a little productive task on the weekend? (I would normally say 'yes', but something had made me restless).

I had to get out of the house, and I needed something to keep my brain occupied. Another one of those dreams happened. Dreams that I've had infrequently since that first night when I was given the mask. They always leave me with a cold sweat when I wake up.

Mawla's life…his deeds, his legacy…and his death. That one made me feel more hollow than any splatter of blood I saw and felt there. I didn't dare ask him about any of the dreams, even more so this one. How do you even talk to someone about their own death?

And it's not just all of that…I really, really don't know how to say it. A gut feeling?

'And have thou learnt anything new from this venture up till now?'

'Oh yeah. Looks like I've got a bit of catching up to do right?'

No answer. 'Mawla?'

The grass shifts. I look up and see her getting up and –

She turns around.

I quickly shift my body further into the shade. Concealment? On. From the angle she was sitting, there was no way she could've seen me. I didn't let out a peep when talking to Mawla.

She walks closer to the tree and I tense up. The bamboo grove's right next to me. I'll be able to make a break for it. Damn it, I should've stayed in that corridor.

*Cheep*

I blink. Right above me, perched on a branch, is a bird. A small little thing, with a white belly.

I dare a peek from around the trunk. Did she just…sure enough, she's staring at the feathered critter. She's even tilting her head.

Okay, first off, thank you little bird. Now, assuming that she can see me regardless of my Concealment, I'm gonna have to book it right into the grove. Carefully, I line up my foot and get ready to sprint like mad. Three, two –

Thwack

I freeze as metal becomes embedded in the tree trunk ten centimeters away from my head.

Haltingly, I turn my head. There she is, her arm crossed over her face, indicative of the weapon she had just thrown and eyes narrow.

Oh fuck.

For what seems like ages – but was most likely a few seconds – I lied there, not daring to move the slightest centimeter. My mind runs on overdrive, trying to figure out the best way out of this mess. Talk? What the hell do I even say? Run into the grove as originally planned? Maybe. I'd have to ward her off without hurting her, but I don't know –

"I know you're there."

Eh?

"Come out."

She can't see me? What the fuck is happening?

"I can see you pressing the grass down."

Oh. Well, that answers another question. But still, why is it she can't see me now?

"If you don't show yourself in three seconds, I'll call the police and tell them everything."

…I should've stayed at home.

'Contractor, I must protest against this course of action.'

Sorry, Mawla. I don't like it either, but she isn't some two-bit scumbag I can off. I really wanna avoid escalating this situation, for both our sakes.

With a silent sigh, I rise and deactivate my Concealment.

She lowers her arm, but her narrow stare doesn't falter.

Again, silence ensues between us. I wanna say something, anything to help me regain my footing

She sharply looks around. "Follow me. It's too open out here." With that, she heads into the grove before I have a chance to respond.

I blink and then grumble. I could just take off right now…no, I could not assume she was bluffing. Pushing past tall stalks, I arrive at a small clearing bare of any grass. Ryougi stands in the center, her back slightly turned to me and her arms at her side.

"What are you doing here?"

I bite my lip. The first thing that comes to mind is to make up something, like that one of the people she's killed has a friend or relative trying to track her down. Simple and believable.

But I don't feel like it could work. If she's as careful as I believe her to be, it's unlikely she'll believe that someone managed to find a clue after the body count she's racked up. Not anywhere close to mine (at least according to the papers), but still enough to get the cops scouring the city like crazy.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to try. Better than the real explanation.

"I have an ear to the ground. I overheard that one of your victim's friends is scouring the crime scenes from your…encounters. I figured I should take a look to see that you haven't run into him."

She gives me a momentary side-glance. "I have not encountered anyone unusual."

I nod. Hooray for the mask. "That's good."

More silence ensues. Come on Ritsu, it can't be this fucking hard to talk to other people, you've done it enough times! Then again, you weren't exactly stalking them.

Maybe she wants to ask something else? No, she's just looking at the sky.

"I saw you in the dojo." This time, she turns to face me again. "You're good."

If she was bothered by the fact that I also spied on her training, she didn't let it break her impassive stare. She then nods. "Thank you. My father spars often with me."

With the speed she showed, 'often' is very much a good way to describe it.

"Do you want to spar?"

What?

She points at my belt. "Those knives. You know how to use them." In the blink of an eye, another knife now rested in her grip. Where is she keeping them? "I want to fight you."

This…is not what I was expecting at all. "Why?"

Her only reply is to raise the knife to her eye level.

…I'm not gonna get out of this without a fight, am I?

'Boy, thou art acting reckless again! Cease this charade at once and leave!'

'Do you really wanna take the risk that she might actually tell the cops?' I shoot back, even as my hand draws the antique dagger.

'Then just –' he pauses. Then I hear a deep exhale with what most certainly seems like a growl. '…do what thou must.'

A minute twitch of her leg was all the warning I received before she was in front of me, her blade glinting as its point dove for my eye.

I barely raise my arm and parry her thrust, but then she moves and sweeps. With a grunt, I push her, but she's already aiming for my sides.

A pivot and a downwards stab. Dirt flies as I heave myself away.

I jump away and throw my blade. But to my shock, she swerves to the side and dashes forward, even as I recall my weapon.

She's a lot faster than I thought.

I grab the flying knife and thrust it down again, but then she jabs my arm with her own knife's hilt and pushes me back a few good inches. My boot scrapes against the earth as I fight the jolt traveling through my arm.

She raises the knife in front of her face again, and I do the same.

Another beat. She charges again.

This time, just before she takes the final step to bring herself into range, I leap to the side, far from her reach. Momentarily savoring the glint of surprise on her face, I charge right at her. She quickly pivots and prepares to slash. Too bad for her. I duck under the swing and ram into her. She's sent flying, but she twists and lands hand first on the ground. With a flip and a leap so elegant it looked effortless, she lands gently on the ground in her preferred fighting stance.

Talk about cat-like reflexes.

We both stop, assessing each other for weakness, a shift of my foot causes a minute adjustment of her stance, a twitch of her arm causes the same in my leg. We initiate and abort a dozen attacks and counters as we each seek to gain an advantage. An animal skitters nearby, and her eyes flicker in the direction of the sound for the merest instant. I charge.

It gets blurry after that. Push and pull, strike and dodge. A shove here, a jab there. Our blades hit air and earth, but never flesh.

A chaotic mix of contradictions boils in my gut. Drawn-out fights are not my thing, and they're something Mawla has constantly lectured me on avoiding. And she's no pushover, unlike most of the scum I've killed.

I lightly pant as I pull my blade from the ground. Ryougi stands there, this time her knife is lowered, but I do not mistake that for carelessness. This bout is taking more from me than I thought it would.

Then why, despite all this, do I feel excited?

I dash forward, this time I'm prepared to throw a second knife -

She slides. The force of her body knocks my unprepared leg into the air.

I barely manage to twist myself upwards, just in time to stop her from swinging down on my torso. A snarl escapes my lips and with a heave, I push her off and get ready to charge again. But then I take another look at her face.

Her focused gaze is still there, but her head is tilted to the side. For a moment I picture a cat looking at a mouse scurrying all around. Heh, it's like she's -

Oh. Oh, no.

She had better not be thinking that.

I feel my grip tighten around my dagger's hilt. So if that's what she wants, then that's what she'll get.

I dash forward again, but when she moves to counter…I turn on my Concealment.

The widening of her eyes tells me everything I need to know. I don't know how exactly she was able to see me before during those nights, but whatever it is, it's not a passive ability. And she didn't have it on when she cornered me by that tree.

I sidestep and with a swing of my free hand, I knock the knife from her hand and grab her outstretched arm. With a heave, I pull her towards me and knee her in the chest. She grunts in pain and I turn off my Concealment, holding the dagger under her chin.

She looks up and our eyes meet again. I can feel her ever-so-slightly shift her arm, but I hold my stance. One push is all I need. And judging by the stare she's giving me, she knows that too.

Another second passes. Then five. Then ten.

Finally, she closes her eyes. "I give."

I pull the blade away while keeping a sharp eye on her, then remove my grip from her arm. I take a tentative step back as I watch her slowly rise up and open her eyes again. The strange girl looks over to her knife, lying there on the ground, but makes no move to retrieve it.

She barely looks winded. And neither am I, at least not to the level I was expecting, but there are a couple of spots on my limbs and torso that throb in protest at my slight probing.

"You're good too."

I blink at the compliment. She keeps her gaze on the knife. "That was an interesting trick you did there."

Ah, the mid-attack Concealment. It…came to me. "Thanks."

She raises a hand and idly rubs her arm. "Back when we ran that night, I asked you something."

She asked me…oh, right.

"Do you enjoy killing?"

"Yeah, I remember."

She replies with silence once more, and so do I. To be honest, I haven't thought about it much. Mawla never brought it up either.

"Hm."

Huh? What did she say?

I must've given away something because I see the corner of her lips twitch. "Is something funny?"

She shakes her head. "No. Just…enlightening. Thank you."

Okay, now I'm confused.

She goes over to the knife and picks it up. "Father is probably wondering where I am."

Well, that's my cue then. I turn around and start to leave, but then she speaks again. "There's a small break in the wall to your left, at the edge of the grove. Take that next time."

I quickly turn around, but she's already moving back in the mansion's direction. She stops near a thick bamboo shoot and throws another glance my way. It seems familiar.

"Don't rust."

And with that, she's gone. Leaving me alone under a canopy of green.

I barely pay attention to where I walk as I make my way through the foliage. Did she just invite me to her house after I basically stalked her?

Yeesh, talk about a weird day. I still don't know whether or not to regret leaving the house.

I soon reach the garden wall and sure enough, there's a large crack in its white structure that serves as a nice foothold. With a grunt, I scale the short wall (a head or two taller than me) and jump down on the sidewalk.

No one is out. Right, still the weekend. Time to head on -

OW!

I wince at that horrid sensation traveling from my skull. 'What the hell, Mawla!?'

'Conceal thyself, boy. Thou art a sitting duck out here.'

…Ah, I knew I forgot something.

Quickly applying the Concealment, I head down the sidewalk. He sounds pissed.

'So, did thou learn anything useful from this sorry excuse of a scouting?'

Scratch that, extremely pissed. 'Uh, listen Mawla, I know that this didn't exactly go according to plan-'

'Plans can fail and must be flexible, yes, that is what I have taught thee. But what happened back there was more than just that. With that little stunt, thou could have completely compromised our mission!' Mawla's tone had grown in intensity to the point where he was nearly roaring. Honestly, it's taking all of my self-control not to flinch. 'What was the point in accepting that challenge!? Thou had no idea what that girl was capable of! Thou saw only one training session with her father, and that was training! As thou clearly know, the battlefield is a completely different beast! Allah only knows what trick she might have that thou hasn't yet seen!'

I gulp as I feel the blood flowing from my face. He's right; I had placed myself in an incredibly dangerous position where I was at her mercy. And that was knowing that she could somehow see through my Concealment - a mystery that I still don't know the solution to.

But was this a waste of time?

'Actually Mawla, I think we've learnt quite a good deal here, and that spar revealed more than hours of spying.'

There is silence for an uncomfortable eternity that lasts ten entire, nerve-rattling seconds.

'Expand.'

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Good, maybe I can spare myself some of the upcoming pain.

'For one, while the exact nature of whatever means she has of seeing me is unknown, my hypothesis of it being an active ability seems close to whatever that truth is. Second, I have a much clearer insight into what she's capable of right now. That way if she does turn out bad and we do have to…get rid of her…I'll know what to expect.'

I silently hope it doesn't come to that. One thing I've managed to avoid so far is killing people who don't deserve it. While calling Ryougi 'innocent' is a bit of a stretch, she hasn't exactly done anything deserving of a Zabaniya or a knife in the back. Yet.

'Third,' I continue. 'And I hope you don't inflict too much agony upon me over this but, uh…she's given me an opportunity. As a sparring partner.'

That last part came to me in a flash. I need some way to further justify this mess (and spare me further suffering).

'Oh, pray tell.' The eyebrow rising is so audible it might as well be an avalanche.

'It'll help me get better at fighting opponents who aren't total amateurs. That, and I can use that as an excuse to learn whatever secret she's hiding instead of stalking her all the time. She hasn't asked much about what I do or why - other than that odd question - so I don't think there's a high risk of her finding out anything important.'

I can vaguely hear tapping. Then, he sighs.

'While I find certain…deficiencies…in thy arguments, thou do bring up certain points that cannot be ignored. And any Hashashin needs a number of connections outside his sanctuary, a subject I had intended to discuss with thee soon. Dabi was a good start, but not enough. Perhaps this suggestion of a training partner will impart certain lessons I need not bother with.'

I wince, but I feel my lips curl upwards

'But know this; whilst I shall give my blessing to this proposal of thine, know that I do so with great reluctance. This is thy journey to make, and I am naught but a humble teacher. But as thy teacher, I possess a responsibility towards thee. I will not have thee perish because thou art searching for phantoms in caves where they do not lie. Dost thou understand?'

Gulping again, I nod. The chill up my spine could have frozen fire.

'Good. Now, what are thy plans?'

…fuck this, I'm tired. 'Let's just head home and chill, okay? Besides, the UA Sports Festival is airing tomorrow. That's something you'll definitely wanna see.'

"Quite impressive for this year's crop, aren't they?"

The man idly looked up from the screen. "Hm?"

A sigh. "Young Tomura, I asked you to put that thing down. This is an excellent opportunity to gather intelligence on your foes, so do not squander it."

Grumbling, the pale-haired man nonetheless put down the controller and turned towards the TV. He was just about to start the level with the Maykr but if Sensei wanted him to pay attention, then he would. But how would he remember his level strategy?

The second monitor was showing those brats he had met from before all running like a fucking kaiju was on their tracks. A low snarl escaped his hand-covered lips as he remembered the sheer humiliation he had felt that day.

It was bad enough that he couldn't get the number of NPCs he wanted for the mission and the difficulty was raised to 'Extreme' (not that there ever was an Easy Mode), the ones that did come were all thrashed by those snot-nosed brats like they were worthless fodder. Which they were, but still!

And the crowd that cheered at every little thing they did, like mindless sheep…sometimes it made him almost disintegrate his controllers.

Sensei told him he wouldn't pay for any new ones so he, fortunately, managed to restrain himself.

He had to admit though, it wasn't all torture seeing this. "The Class 1-A brats, they look like they spec'd out right. That blonde one with the explosions though, heh, for a moment I thought he was a plant you sent in, Sensei."

The voice chuckles. "Yes, he does give off that impression. Perhaps I should mark him down as a potential recruit. He certainly has the right temperament."

There was a rush of wind and a black mist materialized into the dimly-lit room. "Ah, Kurogiri. I take it then you were successful?"

The yellow-eyed individual shook his head(?). Seriously, Shigaraki thought, other than the eyes, where was everything else? Even after years with him, he didn't know. And at this point, asking would make him look stupid.

"Unfortunately, not as much as I had hoped, Master."

"Hmm. I take it they were…reluctant to ally themselves to our cause, yes?"

"Quite frankly, I was surprised they did not refuse my offer straight away. But yes, I was turned down."

Sensei exhaled, a low and rasping noise that reverberated throughout the room. "A shame. I take it then it has to do with our embarrassment at the USJ?"

"Partially. The other reason, aside from doubts about our seriousness, is the same one we have been having trouble recruiting for the past few months now."

Sensei chuckled again. "Well then, it seems like Shinigami strikes again."

Another name that made Tomura Shigaraki scratch his neck furiously. Shinigami.

A character that rocked both the Hero world and the underworld with the public murder of a Pro Hero and the deaths of countless criminals. He was also the reason why so few Villains had joined him to raid the USJ.

Someone who did a better job in scaring the side of Evil than any Hero barring All Might (and maybe Endeavor). If he wasn't one of the sources of their troubles, Shigaraki would've thought it to be pretty funny.

"For someone who doesn't show his face, he's causing a lotta trouble for us Sensei," whined the pale-haired man. "If he hadn't shown up and terrorized the server, I could've gathered more NPCs and killed those brats, their hobo teacher, and All Might!"

He slammed his hand on the floor and grumbled under his breath. "Fucking cheat code…stealth characters are hacks…" He felt his fingers come away from his neck wet, this made him scratch harder.

"I am afraid that Tomura Shigaraki raises a good point, Master," said Kurogiri. "While our recruiting power was never high, it is undoubtedly worse now. Shinigami's existence has driven many possible sympathizers and supporters into hiding. If this keeps up, I cannot see how we will be able to create a sustained front against the Heroes."

After a few moments of silence, Sensei spoke up again. "I understand and share your concerns Kurogiri, but fret not. I admit that the situation presented before us is suboptimal but you know that I never leave things to chance. I have contacts in many places that are more than willing to help us in our crusade against Hero society, regardless of Shinigami's looming presence. If anything, they'll see him as a challenge to overcome. And so should you, young Tomura."

Shigaraki's scratching stopped at Sensei's words. "Don't worry, Sensei. I'm not gonna let some camper kill my spotlight. I just need to find a way to get to him."

"Your resolve is, as always, admirable. But where others might see an enemy, I see a boon."

Shigaraki titled his head. "Eh? You wanna recruit him? I dunno Sensei, from what you've told me, he has a hate-boner for Villains and corrupt Heroes, doesn't matter who."

"I do not intend to recruit him as I have others, but rather to use him to our advantage. There is trash everywhere, and we can hardly be bothered to clear everything in our path. Why not show the trash man where it lies?"

Shigaraki's blood-red eye twitched. Where was Sensei going with this?

"Kurogiri, I am forwarding a number to your cellphone. He is an old acquaintance of mine who is, shall we say, out of a job at the moment. I want you to meet with him and help him with the task I've set for him."

The misty man bowed. "As you wish." With those words, he faded into the dark, leaving Shigaraki alone with the voice.

"Is this still related to Shinigami?" the scraggly man asked.

"If he takes the bait, yes. From what I've been able to gleam, despite his methods, our mysterious Vigilante possesses a Hero's sense of justice. This little project should be just the thing to draw his attention. It will take time to set up, so he should have ample time of his own to keep clearing the underworld. And when those who dwell in the dark become desperate, they will flock to whoever shows the most strength…which is where you come in, young Tomura."

A grin filled with yellow teeth grew on his lips. "So we're gonna herd all the leftovers to us? Sounds neat. You sure your friend can do the thing you want him to?"

"Oh, yes. It may have been several long years since we last met, but he is not the kind of man to let his skills diminish.

Though I confess, I will feel a bit sad if our young Shinigami ends up as rat food. Araya's work, while intricate, is never clean."

Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin - Hassan-i Sabbah)

Stats:

Strength: D++

Agility: C

Endurance: C-

Mana: C++ (Only when using Power of the Valley. Otherwise, nonexistent.)

Luck: C+

Skills:

Presence Concealment C-: The ability to hide from others. A semi-decent level for any Assassin. Against ordinary criminals and some intelligent ones it works well.

Throwing (Dagger) B and Throwing (Retrieval) B: The expertise for throwing projectile weapons; in this case, daggers. His daggers have the same destructive power as firearms when thrown, typically spelling certain death for human targets. He can retrieve them to his hand with but a mere gesture

Information Erasure C++: Erases all traces of the user's identity, physical or digital, after leaving a scene of assassination. It does not hide the user's identity in any other situation, and clues can be pieced together to deduce identity. If the user's identity is discovered, then the effects of the skill weaken. Rank increased thanks to multiple exposures outside of Presence Concealment.

Power of the Valley of Death C++: A unique connection forged as a result of finding a relic of Alamut. Assassin can draw power from the Valley to perform certain skills he would otherwise be incapable of doing.

Quirk - Super-Hearing C+: A power gained as a result of evolution. Allows the user to hear precise details within a certain range. Can extend the range in exchange for loss of detail. Also alerts the user of incoming danger provided they can react to it.

Muraqubah D+: A meditative state that enhances Ritsu's connection to the Valley. If used enough times/for long enough, combat specs have a chance of increasing. In addition, it also enables ?

Noble Phantasm:

Zabaniya - Delusional Judgment Rank C+

An 'ultimate assassination technique' bearing the same name as the angels of hell, a title which all previous 'Old Men of the Mountain' used for their own techniques. Unlike them however, who were forged by extensive modification of the Hassans' bodies, this technique is a reflection of the Assassin's desire to inflict what he deems true judgment. Calling upon his unique connection to the Valley in the Shadow of Death, Assassin drags his target's soul to the Valley, where the First Hassan awaits them. Their soul is laid bare before the Great Founder and should they be found guilty of whatever sin Assassin finds them to have committed, the flames of Gehenna will burn away their soul and body until naught but ash remains.

Hi guys! Guess who's back? That's me.

So, I've been through a lot, namely uni tests, working on a portfolio for my 3D game art (that's my path in the game industry, I can't code to save my life) and a lack of motivation to do...anything, really. I'm trying to work on that. The most I have is a statue of Cthulhu with no rigging.

So we meet Shiki again and Ritsu has a spar. And finally, we see AFO plotting and scheming, trying to lure in our Assassin into his web.

I've been thinking about returning to my Harry Potter crossovers, namely On Black Wings. Would any of you like an update to that?

If you're feeling helpful, go to my page at pat . reon/user?u=47732921 and help!

I'm a member of the Shiro's Gaming Omniverse Discord (discord . gg/wd3tUYWVCd.) server and the Emerald Library (discord . gg/elibrary). If you want to hop over and chat, either about this story or anything else, feel free!

If you enjoyed this story, check out my other ones and look at my profile for challenges!

Most importantly...

Read and Review! REVIEW!